Lately...

Michael has been asking to wake up early in order to have time to read from his new favorite series The Magic Tree House by Mary Pope Osborne.  I'm not joking.  ...But I may be bragging.  Michael is a child of the 'non-morning' variety.  As early as 3 years old I was dragging him out of bed to make it to pre-school on time, something I was sure didn't happen until at least  the sixth grade.  I have tried everything from rewarding, to punishing, to ET-ing (come on, trail of Reeses Pieces, keep up), and back again.  Nothing could motivate that child to get out of bed.  As my therapist put it, I hadn't "found his currency."  (Oh, don't give me that face.  It's 2011.  Look to your right and look to your left; that's how many people secretly see a therapist).  Then, my sweet Jim decided we weren't challenging Michael's reading ability as we should be (he's so smart, that guy!).  "Enough with Clifford!" he declared, and promptly went out and bought the 1st three Magic Tree House books.  (Should you be considering them, there are 50+.  Start small). 

Personally, I loved the big red dog...but that was mostly because it meant my baby was still a baby.  It felt like overnight Michael transfromed from a reluctant reader into a voracious one!  Having been on a 1st grade reading level since the beginning of Kindergarten (OK, now I'm definitely bragging), I wasn't surprised by his ability, but moreover his appetite.  He is hungry for books.  Enough so, that when I crept into his room today before the sun was up and gently nudged him, he sat up like the house was on fire and immediately began pushing back the covers, anticipating the adventures awaiting him on his desk.  I don't know if there is anything more thrilling than seeing my 6-almost-7 year old so thrilled himself over the world he's entered.  Part of me, the B.A. in Literature part, wants to tell him the thousands upon thousands of worlds that await.  His imagination has no idea what's in store!!  But another part of me, the Mommy part, wants to dust off The Berenstain Bears and sit and read with him while I do my very best Papa Bear voice (think Yogi Bear meets Eeyore).  Ultimately, I have to meet myself in the middle, learning to encourage and challenge his intellect, while easing him into his newfound literary independence.  My Mom used to warn me that school was the beginning of the end.  Once your children get there, each year carries them a little further away.   As depressing as that is, it's a bitter pill I will gladly swallow if it means Michael is excelling at one of, if not the most valuable skills we ever acquire.  And anyway; since "no one can do Papa Bear like me"....I think our daily story time will be safe for a while longer ;)