READY!

Jamie and Tess were up at 6:15 a.m.. From our bedroom upstairs, we could hear the clink of cutlery as they were setting the table for breakfast. Trying to hustle things along.

Poor kids. Didn’t have the heart to tell them that no matter how ready we are, we ain’t leaving until after rush hour…

My beloved boy

“Do we have a crayon blue?” French syntax is definitely wreaking havoc on Jamie’s mother tongue.

I kinda like it, though. When Jamie speaks, he sounds like a poem

Miss Chatterbox

She talks non-stop. NON-STOP. To the neighbours, to the birds, to strangers, to her teachers, to me, to Daddy, to her siblings. She talks everywhere: in the car, in the house, at the park, at school, in her bed, on her potty, on the sidewalk…everywhere.

As I was driving Molly home from school, I don’t think I uttered a single word. There was no opening. At last Molly paused, and with a smile and a tinge of reproach, said: “Mummy! You didn’t ask me how my day!”

So I asked her how her day went. And Molly talked some more.

To my future daughter-in-law: my apologies.

Jamie: “I know! We should have a cake for Mother’s Day!”
Me: “Uh-huh. And who will bake this cake?”
Jamie: “You will!”

On blogging our family record

My blogging became infrequent this past year, because of various family crises that required my energy and attention: job changes for me and Mike, surgery for Jamie and Mummy, the search for and discovery of a happier daycare setting for Molly, a new coaching job for me, and fluctuating energy levels for me due to age and lack of physical fitness.

This past month, things have finally settled back into a more manageable level of activity. I’m exercising and my energy levels are up, Molly is happy in Peekaboo, medical emergencies are over, Mike and I have finally hit our strides in our new jobs and really, everything is going tickety-boo. So I’m blogging again.

An extra motivation is seeing the joy this record is already bringing my kids. Every night, Tess asks for “funny stories” from the blog. We scroll through them, the whole family piled together in the living room or our bedroom, and I read. And we laugh, sometimes until the tears run down our faces.

I’m amazed, as we read, how much I’d forgotten. How many of the stories I’d read and Mike and I would look at each other and say: “Oh yeah! I had forgotten about that!”

I’ve been lousy, documenting our children’s childhoods with the camera. But I am so thankful for this record.

Junk Food

Last year, it was fairy books (all 1,000,000 of them), A-Z mysteries and Geronimo Stilton books. Junk, of all of them. But as Nana reminded me, when we read for pleasure, we often read below our level. Pleasure reading is also frequently junk.

But I want my children to discover the great literature I adored as a child. I want them to develop a taste not just for pizza, but for caviar. Tess, however, always eyes my quality offerings with deep suspicion.

I’ve been too tired and busy to push my agenda, but now I’m ready.

Here’s what works with Tess: I only let her sign out 6 or 7 “junk” books each Saturday at the library. Then, when she’s finished with those by Monday or Tuesday and moping around - “I have nothing to read!” – that’s when I spring to action. I go to Tess’s personal library, lined with classic children’s literature, and select a volume. Then at bedtime, we snuggle up and I read one chapter of the book in question. I read with interest, doing my best to bring the characters to life.  I read only one short chapter and then snap the book shut.  “Well!” I say brightly.  “We’ll read another chapter together tomorrow night!”

100% of the time, Tess starts to squirm.  Then she moans.  Then she begs: “But, can I read some more tonight, on my own?”

“Weeeelllllll,” I say reluctantly.  “I suppose…maybe that would be alright…?”

“THANK YOU,” she breathes, snatching the book from my hand.

This scenario has been lived out time and time again, with Pippi Longstocking, Roald Dahl books, the Judy Blume Superfudge series and one of my favourite books from childhood: From the mixed up files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler.  We relived this scenario last night with The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.  She read it on her own until lights out, and when I came downstairs this morning she was curled up on the couch, lost in Narnia.

Newberry and Caledcott Honour books, here we come!

* * * * * * * * * *

(I snuck a look at the open book, to see which chapter she’s on.  We read chapter 1 together.  She’s now on chapter 10.)

Reader Rabbit

So, so thrilled to have another reader in the house.

Jamie came up to me before supper, holding a book.  “I can read this,” he said proudly.  “Je dis la verite!”

The wonderful, astounding thing about Jamie learning to read in English is that it seems to be having a crossover benefit in French.  His French reading has improved by leaps and bounds since he started really making progress in English.

For my own future reference: Jamie is working his way through the Bob books and the beginning reader set.  His ability to recall the content of each story is truly excellent.  His success in this area is all the more astounding when compared to his ability to remember the storyline when a book is read to him.

I love how proud Jamie is of his new found ability.  I’m so happy for my little guy!