The places you'll go!

July 4, 2014

Ordinarily, Devyn has strong opinions about what we will do and about where we will go, but not on the fourth of July. On this day, it mattered only that Devyn be allowed to read The Fault In Our Stars by John Green.

Cooling off in Canadian way

at Tim Hortons

A moment of clarity

I had an epiphany of sorts last Monday. I was in the kitchen when I realized something: I was the only mother in the universe who had just said, "No, you can't have a tomato; have a cookie instead."

I'm not sure if Molly was aware that she was likely the only child around for galaxies who was upset that she couldn't have a tomato (which was an ingredient for supper that evening). My impression is that this kind of insight only comes with age.

All around the Magic Tree House

While Keith and Devyn continue their nightly Harry Potter club meetings, Molly and I are at an impasse.

It isn't that I don't want to read or that we've run out of material -- we don't agree about which book it is that we should be reading.

It all started at the beginning of September when the girls and I visited a bookstore while waiting for Devyn's evening ballet class. Molly discovered The Magic Tree House: Midnight on the Moon (Mary Pope Osborne), brandished the book before me, and declared it The.Next.Book. that we just had to read.

Well, we started it that week but, by Friday, Molly had discovered a book about ninjas from the selfsame series -- and didn't look back.

(You need to know that she did not know what a ninja is (probably because I didn't know) yet she had decided that it would be far more interesting than the book that I REALLY WANT to read.)

"But," I protested, "we're on the fourth chapter! We can't just leave the story where we left it."

"Yes, we can," she giggled. "We just won't pick it up."

I was frustrated and bemused. (And, hey, did she just engage me in wordplay?) Here we were at the end of the month and we weren't moving forward. Each night since we'd read the third chapter, Molly had chosen a different book -- really, any other book -- to make her point that we would not be reading Midnight on the Moon.

"I thought you love the Magic Tree House?"

"I do love it and we can read it . . .If it's about ninjas."

I had to think about it for a while: what kind of reader was she? I reminded myself that I was dealing with the kid who -- I'm not joking -- used to refer to her alphabet books as nonfiction. Then, it occurred to me and I knew why she had lost interest in the book about the moon (a subject close to her) and I've mentioned it before: Molly loves nonfiction and she loves fiction but she's not terribly keen on the mostly fiction-some fact hybrid. The facts (obviously positioned) in the titles that I've read so far in the Magic Tree House lack sufficient detail to quench her thirst. Put another way, the books contain either too much or too little of the factual to keep her reading.

But, why ninjas? Like any four-year-old, the kid loved and still loves mystery and learning. The world of the ninja had yet to be explored at that point, but I sense that, just as she dismissed both Dinosaurs Before Dark and Midnight on the Moon, she will grow bored and we won't finish the book about ninjas.

After weighing the options, I don't think I should interrupt this emerging pattern because she gets something from her approach-retreat relationship with the series even if I don't know just what that would be. (It may be that she has yet to figure out that each book in the series will be similar in style; maybe she is optimistic).

On the other hand, I recently picked up one of the companion research guides that is available in the series which, I'm confident, would provide the missing facts that Molly wants. Then, the next time that she dismisses a Magic Tree House book, I could reach for a guide and see if that sustains her interest.

Who knows? I just want to avoid the mother-child morass of guidance vs. intrusion because I've learned my lesson with Devyn. Please note that I am patting myself on the back because I haven't pushed the issue of reading these books in sequence (though I really, really want to) because that's my thing, not theirs.

It ain't nothin' . . .

I'm pleased to announce that Devyn spent most of Family Day weekend with her head in a book.  I wondered if that was ever going to happen because she seemed uninterested in reading on her own beyond leafing through works of nonfiction (and, yes, books of the Star Wars franchise). That particular weekend marked a change in Devyn's relationship to books.

As glad as I am that Devyn's appreciation of reading has deepened, and that I can pinpoint a dot on a graph and say where and when it happened, I'm disappointed that it's the Junie B. Jones series that she has chosen. (Coincidentally, I'd been searching earnestly for a series that might be a good fit for her and I think I found one, but more about that later).

Why the distaste? Junie B.'s command of English grammar is awful. It's not to say that I'm incredulous of a six-year-old actually speaking or writing without knowing or using every rule of grammar; it's just that Junie B.'s language seems unbelievably poor. I've tried to recall Devyn's use of language at this time last year; except for the use of "good" in place of "well" at times and a tendency to use adjectives in place of adverbs in general, Devyn (and her friends) spoke as if they grasped most of the rules. (Ironically, I objected very strongly to the clipped, precise, use of language in the dialogue of Beezus and Ramona, which Devyn and I read a few months ago).

At any rate, issues of suspending disbelief aside, my just-more-than-slight concern with the series has been that my daughter would get the message that it's fine to speak like Junie because it's funny or because it seems like a viable alternative to what Devyn has learnt to this point . So, I've been hoping that Devyn -- who is bright and clever and has a good sense of humour -- would find Junie B.'s manner of speaking funny but unacceptable.

Wouldn't you know!  During the time -- long ago -- when I'd started this post, as luck would have it, Devyn bounced into the room and I had to take the opportunity to ask her:

-- So, what do you think of the Junie B. book? I see you've been reading it.

-- I really like it.

-- What do you like about it?

-- I like her dictionary; it's black. I like the pictures. I like the glasses. I like the writing, too. I think it's great, even better than mine. [Ed. By writing, I'm pretty sure she means the child-like printed text of Junie's diary.]

-- What do you think of the language?

-- What do you mean?

-- Do you think that she uses words properly?

-- No, not at all!

Here, fortunately, she laughed while furrowing her brows (which seemed to mean "As IF!") and I could breathe again because, in fact, she did find the character's use of grammar funny and unacceptable.

Then she skipped out of the room trying to decide how to wear her bangs the next day as I shook my head and smiled. I'd worried for nothing. As she was leaving, I looked at her pigtails -- at the back of her head, not at the sides, and lower down her head, too -- and I realized how much more mature she seems these days.

Each stage of the girls' lives, though predictable as developmentally-appropriate achievements, is unique and brings with it a refreshing newness that I sense in nuanced behaviour: it promises greater, unforeseeable things and delivers self-knowledge on my part as well as excitement about the future. I love the small but greatly significant changes that I see in Devyn. I love the surprises like the one just described. That one just made my day.

Aliens have invaded my house!

Molly loves the idea of outer space and all that our ideas and images of it in popular culture and science entail: stars, planets, aliens, and rocket ships . . .  She has even, over the past year, discussed her notion of an afterlife (though why or how she was thinking about what happens after death is beyond me): we are all going to end up in outer space at some terminal point.  There's even such a thing as a baby planet, she tells me.

Just a few days ago, out of the blue, she informed me that it's perfectly safe to go to outer space, to ride in a rocket ship, without your mother.  I agreed.

Still, I was surprised a few weeks earlier when I thought I could hear Keith reading aloud and, when I peeked around the corner, there he was, cuddled up with both girls, in his office. He was reading, My Teacher Is An Alien by Bruce Coville.  So, she had succeeded! I concluded.  Such interest and determination! Molly had finally convinced someone to read that book to her because she realized that I had been stalling. 

I did indeed stall on more than one occasion by asking her to tell me what she thought the book was about, what do the (few, black-and-white) pictures mean, etc. and then proposing some really exciting activity that could have us leave the book until another time.  I hadn't fooled her.  I just didn't think the book was appropriate for her yet I've always had a pretty liberal stance in that regard.  The target audience was 9-12 year.  It pushed the limits of my own belief that books shouldn't be off-limits.

As she and Devyn were both enjoying it nightly, calling repeatedly for "just one more chapter", I saw no reason to intervene or to object.  But I was still a little uncomfortable.

Fast forward to last week's Friday movie night.  Aliens in the Attic was the decision but I immediately grew uncomfortable with  the idea. This state was only exacerbated by almost everything said and done in the film up to the point that I, finally, convinced Molly to come upstairs with me.  I was drawing a line.

"Come on, Molly. This movie's not for you.  Let's go upstairs."

"It's fine. I'm OK."

"Molly, I'm telling you that the movie's not appropriate. I'll read a story and we'll cuddle."

"No, Mummy. The movie is just fine. Please, stop."

"Molly, the movie is NOT fine.  There is violence and . . ."

"It's not violent. I'm going to be OK."

"There's a gun!"

"It's a paintgun!"

"But it is for shooting with, so it's a weapon of violence."

"It just shoots orange stuff on somebody and it doesn't even hurt.  It's not a REAL gun."

"Molly, I'm not comfortable with you watching this and I've made my decision."

"Here," she says, getting to a standing position on the sofa. "Maybe if I cuddle in your lap, you'll feel better."

I'm holding her at this point.

"I get to make these decisions because you're only three," I speak into her copious hair.

"I'm not three! I am 3 and 3/4's!"

Well, folks.  I did win.  It wasn't lost on me that, if she could argue so well, she would probably have been just fine watching the movie.  Grey areas.  Gotta love 'em.

Happy Family Literacy Day!

Today, Devyn left for school dressed as her favourite character -- the cute kid from "I Like Myself" by Karen Beaumont.

And the winner is . . .

Pippi Longstocking.

Having finished Mary Poppins -- and enjoying the solitude afforded me by my weekly babysitter for Molly -- I intrepidly approached the basement stairs a few Wednesdays ago.  At the bottom lay one of dozens of bins containing children's books and I had the enjoyable yet daunting task of selecting a range of books from which Devyn (mostly) would choose our next read. My pile included:

Pippi Longstocking
Beezus and Ramona
The Prince and the Pauper
The Littles

So, as I sorted through the now dusty lot, it occurred to me that I hadn't read many of the classics in grade school. Why not? Why weren't they in the curriculum from year to year? They were available in the school libraries and we could discover them or be directed to them occasionally; but they weren't emphasized in my primary classes.

Just as importantly, why weren't the classics read to us on a regular basis? Etched into my brain somewhere is an image of myself as a grade one student sitting cross-legged in the library while listening to the outrageous behaviour of the Herdman children in The Best Christmas Pageant Ever (Barbara Robinson). I later revisited that book over and over again (though I sometimes mistakenly remember it as The Worst Christmas Pageant Ever, and, if you've ever read it, you'll know why). Only a couple of other periods of being read to in school -- once in grade five, another in grade ten -- really stand out.  I want my children to end up with more memories than I have in this regard.

I want to foster an appreciation of reading but I also want to give the girls a literary foundation before they enter secondary school. It doesn't have to take the fun out of reading; fun is built into the experience: Devyn speaks about and looks forward to our reading sessions before bed; the end of one book promises the beginning (and selection) of another; we spend one-on-one time together which is very special to us.

What I really like is the idea that, over the years, story after story, the girls will recognize that books tend to "speak" to one another long after they're read: associations arise, alternative interpretations occur to us, light shines on areas that we hadn't noticed before. I've found that while reading Middle Eastern/South Asian literature, The Arabian Nights (and all the variations of the title) has been of great value to me.

And doesn't narrative just seem to work its way into our lives? How much of our reading to this point in our lives is affected by our early exposure to, for example, Alice in Wonderland? The expressions in popular culture that derive from this story abound. (I fondly recall that the parallels between Homer's Odyssey and the Star Wars phenomenon, as well as other cultural events, was a favourite topic of one my late professors.) I hope that this endeavour of mine to ensure that the girls inherit many of the classics enriches their lives as adults.

In general, and not that Dora doesn't have her place, I want the girls to have more sources of cultural information in addition to what they receive via media, school, and peers.  Clearly, I can't control the messages that they receive through media and peer exposure (though I firmly believe even stemming the flow and limiting sources is possible and that it helps), but I can exchange one channel of information for another and mitigate the influences. So, this summer, but for a few isolated events, I turned off the television and introduced Devyn to another form of entertainment that went beyond the few minutes of bedtime stories that children expect; and, we often read for hours because we just can't wait to find out what happens in the next chapter . . .

So, my resolve strengthened, I realized, after carrying my little pile of books upstairs:  Devyn and I (and later, Molly and I) would read the classics of children's literature; not exclusively, not consecutively, but consistently.

So, Pippi.  One of my favourite childhood characters.  I actually remembered little of her except the lopsided braids.  How appropriate, considering the time of year, that, tomorrow, Pippi goes to school.

__

Astrid Lindgren - Official site (English)
Astrid Lindgren - Wikipedia
Pippi Longstocking

Astrid Lindgren's World

Mary, Mary . . .

Despite time constraints, Devyn and I have almost finished Mary Poppins.

The omniscient third-person narration is divided into chapter-sectioned anecdotes. She's a woman who has access to the unwritten laws of the world; she really does know more than the average nanny and more than the average person; she is exciting, if not a little intimidating, to be around. 

In her presence, animals and infants can speak with each other; actual journeys into pictures occur where imagination is tangible; relationships that require little conventional conversation transpire.

She may be an efficient nanny but Mary P. is also arrogant and possesses a sharp tongue.  This surprised me.  I think we'll have to watch the movie this week once we've actually finished the novel.

And so we've decided . . .

As soon as the shape was inside the gate the wind seemed to catch her up into the air and fling her at the house. It was as though it had flung her first at the gate, waited for her to open it, and then had lifted and thrown her, bag and all, at the front door.  The watching children heard a terrific bang, and as she landed the whole house shook.

Devyn loved the magic of Mary Poppins once she realized that the woman could slide up railings and pull endless items out of an ostensibly empty bag.

What enhanced my experience of the reading was that we have a particularly old copy of the book.Plus, serendipity being what it is, I found a packet of Certs (original flavour) just as I was about to read and gladly allowed her to have her first one.

She cuddled me, watched me as I read, closed her eyes and allowed herself to be drawn into the narrative. 

But today wasn't about Mary Poppins until the end.  Before this, as Devyn attended a pottery day camp at the local art school, Molly and I headed to the library.  There, she pulled book after book for me to read; in all, there were 19 books most of which were pretty short. Her selections aren't always so short but today I was pretty grateful that they were and, thankfully, as I grew tired, she decided to play and didn't choose a 20th title.

I thought it funny that people commented on the number of books that Molly wanted me to read to her since the place was crowded with children and parents participating in some sort of read-for-prizes club. But it might have been the rapid-fire pace with which the process of choosing, sitting, and reading, took place that drew attention to us.

At any rate, I declined to participate in the reading club this year, not knowing if I would actually have to list each book then and there and have Molly recount all 19 stories.  She gladly would have done it but it was, as I say, crowded, noisy, and chaotic to the degree that even Molly remarked on this and asked if we could leave.

Jon, Flora and the Odd-Eyed Cat by Stella Pevsner

Devyn and I love reading novels together.  Last night, we finished Jon, Flora and the Odd-Eyed Cat.

I loved reading with Devyn.  The book itself was disappointing, especially the end.

But Devyn loved it. I recall that, as we were selecting a book to read from one of our bins, she wanted to read it because she adored the cover.  She now thinks it is the most interesting story she's ever read. She especially enjoyed the variety of characters. She wishes she herself could be Flora.

I've proposed reading Mary Poppins next but Devyn would like to examine our options before agreeing.  Fair enough.

Time flies

I happened upon an online journal entry from almost three-years-ago to the day. 

The growth of my girls - July 9, 2007

"I didn't want to have my face painted today."

"No?"

"No. I was scared."

"Oh, I can see how that might be scary."

"Nobody else, just me."

"Nobody else was scared?"

"No."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Sad."

Devyn's aware of herself in the context of others. She compares herself to others.

She's also shot up another two inches in the last couple of months. She has a tiny waist, so her pants are long enough but she needs to wear a belt. (It's surprisingly difficult to find a belt for a preschooler.)

At her last Well Baby appointment (June 29th), Molly was 10lbs 8oz (I won a bet with K about how much she weighed) and 23 inches long. Funny, we didn't know how long she was at birth because that measurement isn't routinely sought.

We've had a difficult month, I'd say. Devyn's feelings about having a sibling aren't always positive and this is to be expected.

She's told me that she's disappointed that I can't spend as much time with her, so I spend as much as I can.

She's told her father that she doesn't always like being a big sister.

She's asked if we have to take Molly along on drives, etc. One day last week or so, while at the kitchen table, she asked:

"Why do we have to have Molly?"

"Because she's part of the family," I struggled. Begging the question, I know.

"Why was she born?"

So, she's struggling with big questions, too.

This might explain why, a couple of weeks before her 4th birthday, she is extraordinarily defiant, argumentative and generally difficult. This makes for long days.

One funny expression lately: when asked if she's ready, Devyn will say, "Ready as a liver bee!"

At least, Molly sleeps through the night. The breastfeeding clinic told me a few times that she's too young to miss feedings and that she needs to be awakened in the middle of the night. Everyone else, including my family doctor, told me to allow her to sleep and that demand-feeding is perfectly fine at this age (10 weeks). I've stopped going to the clinic.

We're continually amazed by Molly, just as we have been amazed by Devyn. She's started kicking and making sounds other than crying. She smiles easily and raises her arms up and down quickly when she's pleased with her toys, etc. She kicks now, lifts her head (but she has since the first week) and always has a pacifier in her mouth.

She's so calm, never cries anymore unless we let her go beyond the hand-sucking stage of hunger. Colic only lasted a few weeks.

Finally, my concentration has returned and I finished reading the first book since becoming pregnant (I'd been averaging about one per week prior to pregnancy) on July 7th.

Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I haven't collected my thoughts about this coming-of-age story set in a strife-ridden Nigeria. I do know that it made me long for some fiction by Uwem Akpan.

Pregnancy -- and then sleep-deprivation -- really affected my concentration and made reading impossible.  Considering thatI was on bedrest for much of the latter part, this was a problem. 

Devyn is now very comfortable with being a sister and they're usually the best of friends.

What a pleasant surprise it has been to look back!

Another library day

Molly was especially busy at the library today.  It was like a second workout for me.  She learnt how to use the self-service book withdrawal and did so while Keith and I were talking.  One second she was playing at the Thomas table and the next she was balanced on the stool at the machine, clicking "continue" and looking for her card in order to swipe the barcode. I gasped when I saw her. It really was time to go.  Besides, the little children's area was filled to capacity at the end of the school day and we'd already been there for three hours.

Bing - Ted Dewan
Beach Babies Wear Shades - Michelle Sinclair Colman/illus. Nathalie Dion  (x2)
A Bed Full of Cats - Holly Keller
My Very First Look at Sizes - Christiane Gunzi
Now I Eat My ABCs - Pat Abrams/illus. Bruce Wolf (x3)
Disney Bolt: My Hero - Apple Jordan
The Playground - Debbie Bailey

Both Girls
Island Counting 1,2,3 (x4)
Follow Me, Mittens - Lola M. Schaefer - Devyn on her own, too (x2)

Morning

As soon as it felt like morning to me, I went into the girls' room.  I hadn't spoken to them since supper the night before and the babysitter had mentioned a Molly meltdown.  As usual, they were both wide awake.  Devyn was pleased to announce that she had been able to comfort her sister in my absence.  I climbed onto the bottom bunk and covered up to get warm.

"I missed you so so much, Mummy," Molly told me. Then, she reached over me for something.

"Well, what did you girls do last night while I was out?"

"Here," Molly said, shoving a book into my neck. "Read this."

"OK," I croaked through neck pain. "I will, but I want to know how your night was first."

"Read this! Read Olivia! I want you to read Olivia."

It wasn't just Olivia; it was Olivia Saves the Circus and probably my least favourite Ian Falconer book.  I groaned inwardly.

Molly opened the book to the first page. "Please read Olivia, Mummy."

She wouldn't be deterred.

So started our day.  Then came the usual requests to go to the library but we both have trouble understanding why it's closed on Mondays. Tomorrow, however, is Tuesday and I promised we'd go right after my training session.

It was great to see Devyn reading after school.  Instead of becoming frustrated when encountering unknown words, she actually welcomed help from me.  She was very excited about two nonfiction readers -- one about cats, the other about dogs -- that she'd signed out of the school library.  We read the book on cats at bedtime.  Molly, who refuses to nap during the day, was exhausted from a late night and preferred to take things apart today though we did thumb through some volcano books.  She didn't even request that I spell words for her and help her print them!

Notes / A slow day

Robin Hill School: First Day of School - Margaret McNamara/illus. Mike Gordon
Scarecrow - Michael Rex (x2)
Doodledog - Eric Seltzer
Tiny Goes to the Library - Cari Meister/illus. Rich Davis (x2)
Robin Hill School: Earth Day - Margaret McNamara/illus. Mike Gordon
Sam Goes To School - Mary Labatt/illus. Marisol Sarrazin
Crossing the Street
Apple Trouble! - Ragnhild Scamell/illus. Michael Terry
Bear Feels Sick - Karma Wilson/illus. Jane Chapman
The Colours of Us - Karen Katz

An Experiment

I've been trying to decide how to keep track of the girls' reading. This blog is not simply about their reading but I think it ought to be included:

(1) Devyn, 6, in French Immersion, needs to read in French; but, I also wish to make sure that she can read in English as well, long before it's introduced as a subject in school. Posts about her will include both French and English titles.

(2) Throughout an average day, while Devyn's at school, I often guess at how many books Molly, 2, has requested that I read; keeping track gives me that, and other, information.

In both cases, I will be able to track developing interests and gain a deeper understanding of their personalities.  I want to see exactly how much I've learnt and how much they have changed by the end of December 2010.

So, there will be posts that contain nothing but lists of books which may bore the reader to tears; but, hopefully, other posts will compensate. I won't publish the list-of-books posts to the feeds.

The way we read . . .

I like to think that everyone has a reading style. I also like to think that mine is of the read-and-let-read variety. So, when Devyn showed interest in reading the Junie B. series, and I got excited about it, I guess I kind of assumed that she and I shared a reading style. Not so much.

"Hey, let's read a Junie B. book," I suggested this morning.

"O.K.," she bounced up. (At least, I think she bounced because she always bounces and that's my overall impression of her.)

And I actually meant that she would read it and that I would listen which would have been just fine with her except we got stuck at the Junie B. part.

"Here, let's find the first in the series."

"I want to read this one." She held it up to me as if she was holding something very precious which, if you think about it, it really is. Anyway.

"Is that the first one in the series?" I started comparing dates of copyright.

"Uh . . ."

"No, that's not the first one. This one is. It comes before that one, anyway."

She shrugged her whole body in that way that only six-year-olds have learnt to do. I knew what she was going to say . . .

"But I want to read THIS one, not THAT one. THIS is the one I want to read."

We rallied pronouns back and forth until I got caught in the net. It was her book and, ultimately, for her benefit that we would be reading. I couldn't walk away without admitting defeat. But I wasn't happy about it.

A series. It's a series and series are meant to be read sequentially, right? Does it really matter, though, if Devyn doesn't have all the information that would be available in the first book? Wouldn't there be sufficient information, anyway, in the second or third books for her to gather impressions -- however vague -- of what has gone before?

Yes, probably. But it didn't matter, at least not while we were disagreeing.

Yet I realized that we were stepping out of the matter of personal preference and into the morass of mother-child relationships. We weren't negotiating which book would be read first; we were staking territory. This is where my parental rights in the matter ended and I was clearly encroaching. I had the sense that I should not push further despite all that I believed that I had left to teach her in this area.

But I'm not surprised. In fact, I am continually amazed by the capacity of my children to teach me about this life stuff. For example, I know this wasn't the last territorial scuffle.

Notes / Reading with Devyn

Devyn and I spent every spare moment reading a chapter book together yesterday: The Red Ghost. It marked a change. I've always wanted to introduce her to the ghost genre of children's books and this was the best time.

I worried that she'd be frightened, even though the target audience of The Red Ghost is six to eight or nine years. I worried that she might not be able to follow along with the plot or the subplot.

The reference to a significant period in history could have been an obstacle.

I was wrong on all counts. Instead, she surprised me. In response to my, "What did ya think?" She said, "I'm disappointed."

"Why? What didn't you like?"

"Well, why did it have to come at the end?"

"What at the end?"

"The ghost."

"Good question! Do you think it should it have appeared at the beginning?"

"No, it should have come in somewhere in the middle."

I was proud of her, of this independence of thought, of this opinion of hers that wasn't at all groundless.

The suspense just hadn't worked for her; it had annoyed her.

But, anyway, as August rolls in, I'm reminded that my time with Devyn is about to change dramatically: We won't be together everyday or every weekday that she's not in school because she'll be in school full time. From this point on, it's about Devyn gradually letting go of our time together in order to embrace new and more complex social environments.

We'll have to work harder to get in those chapter books. I already know the next title to introduce to her; the earlier title, The Blue Ghost, followed by The Secret of the Painted House. Where we'll go from there, I don't yet know.

The Red Ghost
(a Stepping Stones book)
Marion Dane Bauer
Illustrated by Peter Ferguson
Random House
April 2008
Trade Paperback

The curse of Scooby Doo

This morning, Devyn asked me to read her a story. She produced a school library book and we sat on the sofa to read Shiny Spooky Knights (Scooby-Doo! Readers, Level 2) by Gail Herman (Author), Duendes Del Sur (Illustrator).

Just a few pages in:

"What's a Mummy?"

"It's the effect of a process that some ancient cultures used to preserve a person's body after death. Mummies don't come back to life."

"What's a vampire?"

"In folklore, the vampire is a person who drinks blood, has to stay out of the sun in order to survive and who doesn't die. Most people don't believe that vampires exist."

"What's a witch?"

"A witch is often depicted as an old, green woman who wears black and who stands over a pot making magic potions and who can cast spells on people using magic. But, really, a witch is someone who practices a religion called Wicca. Wiccans love the earth and nature and it's a very peaceful religion."

"What's a zombie?"

"A zombie is a dead person whose body is brought back to life under mysterious circumstances. But they don't live as people; they're scary looking. Most people don't believe they exist." (Ed. I left out the David Wade books, thinking that perhaps she has enough to think about at this point in her life.)

"Why are they chasing Shaggy and Scooby?"

"Well, because we've read this book before, we know that they are really people dressed up in costumes who want to invite Scooby and his friends to a party."

"Why do they want to invite them to a party?"

"Uh, I don't know."

And she's off!

It finally occurred to me the other day -- as Devyn read a book without any preparation or hesitation -- that she is now a reader. Yesterday, I realized she is also a printer when she showed me a sentence she had written on her own without dictation.

Wow. I've waited for these moments as I recalled taking a book impatiently from my own mother's hands and deciding to read it myself as she wasn't doing it "just right". I was probably Devyn's age.

The little reader books sent home each day gave her confidence to just "let go" and jump in.

The school's curriculum includes this as a goal: kindergartner's reading and printing. They started preparing in JK and now the feelings I experience as she is reading and printing are beyond joy. I'm happy for her, really very happy for her and another little reader has popped up in the universe.