My little bookworm. I don’t know that my love affair with books started as early as first grade, but every time I looked at Em this weekend, I was transported back to a time when I was in the middle of a good book. Impatiently rushing through the other stuff I “had” to do, so I could get back to my book. Making myself sick because I wanted to read in the car. Trying to walk, looking over the top of the book, and read at the same time.
I think I probably said “Let’s just put the book down until we get there and then you can read,” at least five different times over the past two days.
Her class has been reading the Magic Treehouse books aloud. They have a chapter or two left in the first book of the series, but Em came home and finished it on Friday. Then she started book two on Saturday, and finished it during church yesterday.
Yes, I know. Part of me wanted to tell her she needed to pay attention in church, but she is reading. READING! Full on chapter books on her own. And I’ve been kind of quizzing her along the way – she is comprehending it, too. I just can’t squelch that. Plus Sunday school starts next week, which is much easier to focus on than “Mama’s church.”
Then last night we started the ‘Little House on the Prairie’ series as our “bedtime reading.”
FINALLY! The Little House books were my all-time favorite books when I was a girl. I’ve been patiently waiting until she was ready for them. We got through a few chapters last night and when I went to wake her up this morning, she rolled over, stretched and said, “Mornin’ Mama. Tonight can we read Little House on the Prairie again?”
Yes. Yes. YES!
While I was making breakfast, she started on the third Treehouse book. At this rate I think we are going to blow through the entire public library by the time she is in 3rd grade.
My little bookworm. (Yes, I’m beaming. I could not be more proud.)