When I became a mother, I had a few simple wishes for the Little One:
- That he would be happy.
- That he would be healthy.
- That he would be a reader.
And, despite my best efforts, the whole reading thing hasn’t been going all that well. Although I model the preferred behavior by having my nose stuck in a book at every opportunity, the Little One has been a reluctant or disinterested reader for most of his life.
But that all changed this week.
This week, he came home from school all fired up about a series of books that he discovered at school. He told me about these books at least 150 times—going out of his way to mention how they were chapter books. Big boy books. With chapters. Some with up to 10 chapters. And he could read them. All by himself.
Unable to resist, I took him to Barnes & Noble and, in a supreme act of sacrifice and motherly love, I gave him my entire $25 Barnes & Noble gift certificate that I’d received as a birthday present. (YES! You read that right. I gave him my entire gift certificate to use to buy these books he was so excited about.) How could I resist this kind of enthusiasm? He found my Achilles heel.
He got his books, and he was over the moon—chattering the entire way home about how excited he was about them. Thanking me over and over again for them. (I swear I’ve never seen him this excited about something before … not even LEGOS!) He woke up early two days in a row to read his books before school. Then he came home and read them. Seeing him curled up on the couch reading his books just melted my heart. I don’t think I’ve ever been so fulfilled or happy as a mother.
Thank you, Barbara Parks! You are a genius! I love you!
And, as an added bonus, a 9-year-old girl who I gave the first three Harry Potter books to for her birthday finally started reading them this week. She ran over and said: “Miss Jen! Miss Jen! I started Harry Potter. I love them! I can’t wait to read all of them!!!!” Sigh. I think I can die happy now.