I stumbled across your lj, as one does, through friends of friends and hours of tangential clicking, and I've been working my way back through your posts. Heh, I realize that that must sound creepy.
I'm told I learned to read at 3--certainly I never remember a time I wasn't reading--and was one of those children who had to be reading something, even if it was the ingredients on the toothpaste tube. My house is filled with teetering piles well-ordered shelves of books, and I have read to my children from the time they were infants. I was, therefore, completely baffled that they seemed to have no interest in learning to do the wonderful thing themselves, and that their reading came reluctantly and late.
A turning point for Elder Son came last year, when his incredible fifth-grade teacher (what would you call fifth grade?) turned him on to a love of learning. *pauses to worship at the shrine of Mrs. P--* One of the things she did, every day, was read to the class.
Elder will be turning 12 in a few days' time. He rarely can be found without a book these days, and birthday and Christmas wish lists are always for books, to the occasional ruin of my bank account. (The only book I've ever refused to buy was Eragon--I told him to check it out of the library.)
I've enjoyed these comments here, which remind me not to worry about Younger Son, not to push, not to stress, to banish the word "should" from my thinking about reading, and to try to buffer them a bit from our ridiculous school system of everything for the test. And, most of all, to let them see me enjoying books.
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Date: 2008-03-22 12:42 am (UTC)I stumbled across your lj, as one does, through friends of friends and hours of tangential clicking, and I've been working my way back through your posts. Heh, I realize that that must sound creepy.
I'm told I learned to read at 3--certainly I never remember a time I wasn't reading--and was one of those children who had to be reading something, even if it was the ingredients on the toothpaste tube. My house is filled with
teetering pileswell-ordered shelves of books, and I have read to my children from the time they were infants. I was, therefore, completely baffled that they seemed to have no interest in learning to do the wonderful thing themselves, and that their reading came reluctantly and late.A turning point for Elder Son came last year, when his incredible fifth-grade teacher (what would you call fifth grade?) turned him on to a love of learning. *pauses to worship at the shrine of Mrs. P--* One of the things she did, every day, was read to the class.
Elder will be turning 12 in a few days' time. He rarely can be found without a book these days, and birthday and Christmas wish lists are always for books, to the occasional ruin of my bank account. (The only book I've ever refused to buy was Eragon--I told him to check it out of the library.)
I've enjoyed these comments here, which remind me not to worry about Younger Son, not to push, not to stress, to banish the word "should" from my thinking about reading, and to try to buffer them a bit from our ridiculous school system of everything for the test. And, most of all, to let them see me enjoying books.