She learned the mechanics of reading soon after turning four. She could read simple little booklets with a few words a page. I ran around saying that she was a reader, so proud, except for one problem.
She hated reading.
Hated it with a passion, and eventually refused to have anything to do with it.
So I backed off. Turned off the pressure, and just let her be. I read to her every night from chapter books like the Rainbow Fairies, the Magic Tree House, and Ramona the Pest.
Then, finally, six months ago, she got bitten by the bug. Miraculously, she started to love to read on her own. And she started reading, and reading and reading.
She now devours a book a day, and often disappears into her room to lay on her bed and read. The other morning, she got into bed with me and we read our books quietly for close to an hour. It was one of those parenting moments I had imagined when I first felt her flutter in my belly.
My only problem now, if you can call it that, is how to feed her ever expanding appetite. She’s not quite ready for the classics I remember so well: a Wrinkle in Time, Harry Potter, or the Little Princess. But she’s reading books like the Magic Tree House and the Rainbow Fairies so fast that I think she may be ready for a little more. She’s a big fan of Ivy and Bean books, loves anything to do with magic, wizards, or dogs. She just had her first book cry with the children’s version of Marley and Me.
Any suggestions? I’d love some help to keep feeding her growing appetite.