The Wee Reader

In light of Thanksgiving, I find myself thinking a lot about the gifts and blessings in my life and how grateful I am to be walking in my shoes. And in light of my last post, I'd like to brag a bit more about all the good stuff going on in my little corner. So here's my first toast to the gratitude gods.

The other day, I stepped away from Stella to make a cup of tea. When I returned, I found this.

Yup, that's my girl sitting in her block basket reading her books. Oh, how she makes me smile.

As an English teacher and lifelong reader, seeing Stella dive into books with such curiosity and passion warms my overly-weary-of-cheesy-sentimentality heart. Growing up, reading was my comfort and my passion. It's not like I was one of those tender hearted kids who only had books as friends, but I was known to stroll home as slowly as possible so I could walk and read another chapter of Anne of Green Gables.

Who knows if Stella's passion for all things bookish will continue. (I have a hunch it will since she's been on this kick since she was about three months old. As soon as she could hold her little bobble head up on her own, she wanted books propped everywhere.) All I know is I secretly dance a embarrassingly joyous jig inside every time I see her initiate anything to do with reading. On those days when I start to look for the escape hatch, if Stella comes to me with a book in her hands, I regain my mama cool, prop her on my lap and read until her heart is content.

If her interest dwindles, so be it. We'll find other ways of fostering her imagination. But for now, the dorky reader in me is jiggin' her little heart out.