Family, friends, colleagues, strangers stuck with me in the elevator—STORY IS INTERESTED IN LEARNING TO READ! You’ve no idea how long I’ve waited for this day. Well, if you’ve spent more than five minutes with me in the last three years, you probably do. You see, I’ve had a not-at-all-unreasonable fear that I would be the only editor/writer with an illiterate child.
Story has always loved books. She loved to gum them. She loved to chew on them. She loved to color in them. She loved to spread them out all over her bedroom floor. And she loved for me to read them to her. But she had no interest whatsoever in learning to read them.
Oh, she would pretend to read, convincing the other children in her preschool class that the storybook upside down in her hands was providing the drama she was entertaining them with. But when she got home, it was “Mommy, read this. Mommy, read that.” Of course, I’d try to convince her to work with me to learn. She is wildly independent, after all. But she made it quite clear that she was independent in everything but reading. The more I fretted, the more she resisted. So I stopped. Outwardly, anyway. If there was nothing to rebel against, then there was no reason to be illiterate, right?
I’ve taken my frustrations and worries out on all of you instead (sorry ’bout that!) and put on my best poker face for Story. It’s only taken three whole years, but my brilliant plan has worked! As I nagged Story about getting ready for bed, she told me she was busy writing a letter. Sure enough, she was at her desk sounding out and writing ACTUAL WORDS (misspelled, but that’s beside the point) to the fairies. She wanted to gain “pixie dust knowledge,” you see, and felt that it was best to go straight to the source.
I’m downright giddy. I’m so happy, in fact, that I don’t even feel the need to edit her. I’m joking, geez. Celebrate with me; a child is learning to read!