Ice Cream by Corey Magstadt

How Many Licks?

1...
2...
3...

It's all over me!

4...
5...
6...

A few more licks!

7...
8...
9...

I eat it all the time!

10.
10!

Let's eat again!

The Little Magician

The Little Magician

"Abracadabra!" the magician declared
As with a flourish he waved his wand in the air
Before spellbound children with awe on each face
Making coins disappear without a trace
His box full of tricks that he never discloses
Wait, how did his wand turn into roses??

The little magician thought he'd give it a try
"Hocus Pocus!" burst out his exuberant cry
Nothing happened? Well, that's no big deal.
"Alakazam!" "Presto Chango!" Hmmm…I'm starting to feel
Like something is missing; I can't do it right
I aimed at my sister but she didn't ignite!

The little magician sat down in his seat.
His hopes had been dashed; he stared at his feet.

"Jaron, come here," the illusionist beckoned.
"I need your help on the stage for a second.
Do you see the empty hat I have here?
There was a rabbit, but I think it disappeared.
My hands are too big; could you reach inside it?
I really need you to help me find it."

The magician-in-training rose from his chair
He reached out his hand and whispered a prayer
Then his expression changed from sadness to joy
When clutched in his fingers was Tricky Troy's toy
"I did it! I did it!" he shouted with glee.
A happier magician you never will see.

More Lily Pages

Breakfast, breakfast, my favorite first meal,
Can I have a doughnut, or maybe some oatmeal?
Remember, I can’t like butter or bread,
But please don’t take too long I really need to be fed!
All done! It was so good! Thank you thank you!
You know just what I like! How did you guess? You must like that too.

Good job, now go wash your hands, first soap,
Not so much, Lily, now don’t you mope.
Scrub, scrub, scrub, now for your teeth.

My teeth, my teeth! I love to brush my teeth!
I love my pink paste and princess brush,
Oooo did I see my baby in my room? I better rush
I think she’s stinky and needs a diaper change.
Baby, did you say you were hungry? That’s strange,

Where did your bottle go? Is it in the lego drawer?
I could make a tower… higher, higher, just a little more,
And crash! Jaron, did you do that?
What a cool hat!

Can I try it on? Let me try.
I don’t care if you had it first its mi-
Ow! You hit me! Why!?!
Now I’m going to cry!!!!!

I have to say sorry? But he hit me!
Yes. I took the hat and would be sad if he did that to me.
Okay, I’m sorry and I love you. Let’s play!
I won’t be mean, please stay!

I love to play with you all the time.
Hot or cold, at home or away- anytime!

Thanksgiving Poems by Jaron Magstadt

Thankful Turkey
We are thankful
on Thanksgiving
for fish and meat
and things like turkey feet.

I'm Thankful for...
Telling Mom jokes
Helping Grace with her morning work
eAting food
Napping on Mom's lap
Kids, and being one
Snow
God
lIstening to God's spriit
Vice President
lIly Rose
No school
Grace

What Pilgrims Do:
Thought to sail
bUild huts
Run away from England
King of England wouldn't let them worship God
Eat food Native Americans taught them to grow
Yes, God is faithful

The Pumpkin Pie is Gone!
Mom made a pie
Someone came along and put her face in it,
then she ran away.
Another girl came along and stuck her finger in the pie,
and sucked her finger all day long.
Then she ran away.
Another girl came and put her foot in it,
and then she ran away.
Then a girl giant took the rest of the pie
and then she ran away.
The End

29

"It sometimes happens, that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before; and, generally speaking, if there has been neither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely any charm is lost."- Persuasion by Jane Austen

I just turned twenty-nine a few weeks ago and was rereading Persuasion at the same time. To say the least, I liked this quote a lot. I've been think about life, what I've accomplished compared to what I want to accomplish in my life time and some days I'm satisfied and some days I'm not. But today, I'll just live in today- get what's on my list to get done done, play hide-and-seek with Lily Rose in the new curtains Corey hung up for me, and hope that the anxiety I've faced and the anxiety to come are not too much to fade what beauty I have, because that is most definitely the greatest deterrent to keeping my beauty of youth (although my diet could handle some changes :)). I'm not just meaning my physical beauty either. I mean my energy and blind faith too.

So, here's to pretending I'm a character in one of Jane Austen's books whose twenty-nine with her charm intact!

A Day with Lily, pg. 1

All is dark and quiet in the very early hours,
But soon little ones will awake and show their powers
Against stillness blandness and plain,
And show us the small joys of life that we gain,
When we look closer at the things of each day,
Rather than worrying about tomorrow and letting today drift away.

I hear little foot steps in the hall,
Here comes the beginning of all the small
Little things that will make today,
The next best day of all...




Good Morning! Good Morning! Can I cuddle with you?
There's plenty of room, here I come! The bed can hold more than two!
I know you're awake- stop pretending to sleep,
My tummy's rumbling get up or I'll leap
On your tummy and... ugggghhhhh
By Lori

The Swordfighter

EN GARDE!!!!!

Slashing, Stabbing
Crashing, Grabbing
Flashing, Jabbing
Smashing, Nabbing

Hitting, Fighting
Slitting, Smiting
Spitting, Biting
Splitting, Exciting

OUCH!!!!!!!!



Crying
Sighing
Whining
Dying

Comforting, Hugging
Kissing, Snuggling

EN GARDE!!!!!

By Corey Magstadt

the Snowman

A broken umbrella keeps off the sun.
An oblong head that won't be outdone.
Snow pea eyes and a carrot nose
That leaves orange streaks whenever it blows.

A little too short and a little too fat.
No need for ears or a mouth or a hat.
Beauty is found in the eye that beholds it
And maybe in the hands that rolled it.

By Corey Magstadt

The Books

So last year for Christmas I made Jaron and Lily each a book for Christmas. I wrote a little story about each of them and used pictures of them as illustrations. It was a huge hit and they still read them at least once a day. There is so much psychology and child development about why a child would love this and why its so good for them- motivating them to read, making them feel unique and loved, secure in who they are, etc. but really, it was just plain fun to do and and even more fun to see how much they value them. I've been reading (well, more like skimming) quite a few self-help books and am totally overwhelmed by all the five steps and little phrases I'm supposed to run through my head when I can look at life, relationships, conversations, activities, and see how the right things naturally form when the core issues of my heart are dealt with. These books are a great example. I realized that all of my kids' photos were on the computer and I didn't have pictures albums of them for the year and thought that these books would be a creative way to do it and wanted to make them Christmas gifts that were personal rather than generic. I didn't read about child's self esteem, I just knew. Enough of that tangent.

Since they were such a big hit Corey and I thought we would do it again. This year Jaron's will be a book of separate poems- that's what he's really into right now. He and Corey read two huge Shel Silverstein books in about a week so Corey is using his poems as a model.

Lily's will be about a busy day in her life- full of dancing, reading, singing, playing, whining, eating, not eating, going potty, spending time with family and friends, and finally sleeping.

I'll be posting pages here and there since getting these put together will be a pretty big part of my life for the next three weeks... after I get Lily Halloween costume made.

What Jaron's learned in the first four weeks of first grade

Really, its very impressive. He's learned or reviewed:

Spanish: colors, numbers, a few basic verbs, and greetings.

Math: number values and number families up to 8.

Reading: phonemic awarness for each sound and letter recognition.

Science: 7 different habitats, the animals that live there and what they need to survive.

Geography: Continents and oceans- he can even tell me what oceans surround which continents and on which sides, map keys, and the points of a compass.

Music: pp,p,m,f,ff

But even more importantly to Jaron, he has learned that Elixxxxth is bossy, Brxxxxxn is a smarty pants, Grxxxxxe is a kissy girl, Lxxxxa cries all the time, and Bxxxy is SO annoying and gets in trouble all the time.

At supper we got an earful of how Grxxxxxe in SO in love with Exxxxxn but he doesn't like her and so Jaron is trying to help Exxxxxn get away from Grxxxxxe. We also heard how Elixxxxxth likes to play school at free time, but always has to be the teacher and never lets them talk. Interestingly, we heard how Brxxxxxn always answers the questions, interrupts the teacher letting her know that he already knows everything, and uses big words. Jaron also curiously counts how many times Brxxxxxxn gets answers wrong and loves to list them to us later (maybe we're feeling a little competitive... who knows:)).

We also got to hear about recess- how he and Brxxxxxn (who also happens to be his best friend at school) were a pack of cheetahs and how Lxxxxxs was a crocodile and scratched him. We even got to hear how Grxxxxxce kissed her hand and then chased Jaron around trying to tag him with her kiss when he was pretending to be allergic to girls.

Yeah, I think he's learning everything important to learn in the first four weeks of first grade.

The Cliff

As the sun sets, the darkness creeps into my skin, making goose bumps appear on my arms. The dirt beneath my feet begins to crumble and I look down to see the tips of my white tennis shoes peeking over the edge of the cliff, where the loose earth tumbles down into the vast emptiness. Despair has paralyzed me and I can’t move from this place. The rocks below taunt me, mock me because they know I’m too sane to meet them but too much a coward to return to the pain I left behind. The frustration of the past presses against my back and from the left and the right like and invisible force. I know I cannot go back. The desire for hope has driven me here, revealing glimpses of itself here and there but always too far away to grasp. And where has it lead me? To a place just as bare and destitute as where I came from.

The cliff is sheer and unforgiving. It drops straight in front of me and to the right, but as far as I can see to the left, about thirty feet down, a small shelf protrudes. The light gray rock looks almost white in the fading light and I notice a small clump of green grass on the small shelf. The color stands out amongst the dull, colorless cliff. Its contrast gives me the smallest glimpse of hope in this desert landscape. The bright contrast colors the dull shades in of my heart. Where does the grass get its water, I wonder? What is the purpose of it, to grow where no animal can taste it, where it cannot be seen and enjoyed unless someone is crazy enough to stand in this hopeless place? Then I think of the change it is doing to my heart and I think, did God put it here just for me? Does He think that much of me that He would cause this small miracle to give me hope in the midst of hopelessness? Then I hear a faint sound. So faint I have to listen a second time to make sure I’m not hearing things. But there it is again. A soft, desperate bleating. Its coming from below, on the shelf. I risk leaning forward just a tiny bit and see, clinging to the side of the rock, the small kid of a mountain goat. I forget the risk to myself when I see the terrified look in its huge brown eyes and a small bit of grass slipping from its lips. The grass. How did the goat get down there? It was obviously tempted by the bright green and risked climbing the cliff to get down, but could not find its footing to get back up. But where was there a path to the ledge? Can I help this little one? With out another thought, I start walking over to where the shelf is to find any way to get down. There is no reason not to take this risk, I have nothing to stay here for. I see a small rock jutting out of the cliff about five feet down and I swing my feet over the edge, holding on to the crumbling dirt. My right foot finds in and my left begins the search for the next. How did the small animal get down here? I finally find a foothold and begin my treacherous decent. After what seems like hours I my shoes touch the shelf. I drop down and the goat freezes, staring at me. It’s unsure if its salvation or execution has just arrived. I crouch down and grab a clump of the grass, making sure to leave enough that it can reseed and remain as hope to other passersby. With my hand outstretched with the grass in my hand, I look straight into the goat’s eyes. My gaze does not hold promise of a way out of this, but rather a promise that it will not die alone on the ledge, that we will suffer together. Slowly, gradually, the kid inches closer to me. Finally it is eating out of my hand, then inching closer, looks for an embrace. I give it freely and the warmth of its little body and the pounding of its fragile heart remind me that this life is worth living. If not for myself, to get this small helpless animal to safety. For the first time I stand up and look around. I’ve already seen all there is to see to the right, but to the left a whole to view is open to me. What I see makes me stand in disbelief. A lush, green valley full of fruit trees, grass, goats, sheep, cattle, and a river flowing through. The goat did not climb down, it climbed up. I look back up the way I came. It rises up so sharply that I can barely see the indents I used as foot and hand holds. How did I do that? I’m not rock climber. Where did I get that kind of courage? I take a deep breath. I need to tap into that courage to get down to that valley. Combined with hope, I know that I will make it, but before making the descent, I sit down with the goat in my arms, making sure I do not forget this place.

So was the grass just for me? The baby goat? Or was my pain and despair so that I would be led to this place to save the kid? From somewhere in the back of my head a voice that I heard as a child whispers a promise I have long forgot.

Whatever you do for the least of these you also do to me.

Caddy the Caterpillar

Caddy the Caterpillar
Illustrated and Dictated by Lily Rose Magstadt, age 3 years 5
months.























Caddy ran away from his mother.










His mother doesn't like him to be green.
















He came back.











There was a monster in his way. The End.

The First Day of School

Yesterday was the first day of school, not only for Jaron, but for Jaron's school too. How exciting the last year has been laying the foundations for what just started when all those little kiddies ran into those doors yesterday. Cologne Academy is now the home of seven classes from kindergarten to the 5th grade with approximately 130 students. I still can't get over it. Last year is was just a dream on paper and now its a reality.

I must admit that I was really nervous yesterday. Not about the school, I know its in great hands- the Director has done an amazing job from ordering healthy lunches to hiring the best teachers to getting furniture in the classrooms and everything in between. I was a nervous mom. Will Jaron make new friends? Will his strange sense of humor be appreciated by the other kids or made fun of? Will he get confused and frustrated in transition time from one place to another? When did he grow up? Is him going to school going to change our relationship? In good ways? What will his behavior be like when he gets home from school? Will he be exhausted? I probably don't need to go on. I'm sure you get the point.

It seems to have gone very well though. He came home excited and ready to go to his piano lesson, full of stories about his day. His favorite thing during the day was making up verses to the song, "Shoo Fly, Don't Bother Me" with another boy in his class. He ate all of his veggies and didn't even touch his chips. He met his music and PE teacher and loves his classroom teacher. They even did a little math it sounds like.

One thing that our school is doing that I LOVE, is that they are creating an individualized educational plan for EVERY student with the goal that each student will be at least a year ahead of where they are at now by the end of the year. As a parent of an accelerated child, this excites me so much. Last year Jaron had fun in kindergarten, but he most definitely was not challenged, or at least was challenged very little. This way there is less chance that he will get bored and start to make poor choices with his time. I want him to learn to do his best and am so glad that he will be challenged at his own level. I'll post more about this after his plan is in place in a few weeks.

On the flip side, this was a first day for another person in our family. Miss Lily, or I should say Lily Rose as she has informed me she would prefer to be called, had her first day alone with Mommy and her first day at preschool. The first thing Lily Rose did when Jaron left was go down to his room and look for toys that he never lets her play with. She then played with them for about an hour, then decided she liked her toys better anyway. After that we went to her Preschool Open House. It was just an hour of unstructured play and she was in heaven. She cried when it was time leave and can't wait to go back next week. She's growing up so fast and cant' wait to be independent. If you ask her how old she is she says, "I'm three, but I'm trying to be four." I hope this doesn't become a pattern and continue all the way through high school although something in my gut tells me it might.

So my babes are growing up right before my eyes and it fills me with emotions I can't really put words to yet. A sense of pride mingled with a sense of loss is the best way to put it I suppose.

Punching to Read

My son, Jaron, is now six and is suddenly learning how to read. He has known his letters and sounds forever, but just started to care about learning to read. I'm very excited the day has finally come- there were times when I wondered if he'd ever be motivated.

We were reading together yesterday and I was reminded to how many different sounds different letter combinations make and how hard it makes it to decode. The book we were reading had a lot of "ou" words in it, but also words with the "oul" combination. So, before reading I introduced the different sounds and letter combinations to him through several activities, but it just wasn't sinking in.

Then I decided to think out of the box. I gently pinched him and said what does "ou" say? And in response to the pinch he said, "ow!" and I said, "right!" Then I pretended to punch myself in the gut and said, "oouuh" then I pretended to punch him in the gut and said, what does "oul" say? And, of course, he got it. Now he doesn't miss them a single time and loves to teach new people his what he's learned- especially by pretending to pinch and punch them! Ah well, one lesson at a time :)

Lawn Fire

I have the tenancy to over exaggerate my personal abilities now and then. Last night was one of those times. My husband wasn't home and we have had this huge pile of dried out lilac trimmings just sitting in the driveway for a month now. Usually Corey (my husband) takes care of such things, but I thought, "how hard can making a fire be?"

Well, much harder than it looked. I squatted on the ground for a good half and hour trying to get it to start while the kids whined for my attention and begged for smores. Finally I got it started. It really got going so I decided to start piling on the dead leaves and branches. It was amazing to see them turn into tiny pieces of black ash so quickly. The flames grew quickly too and I noticed that I had put the portable fire pit too close to a low branch on our butternut tree. First the leaves turned dark green, and then began to curl a bit.

I should have realized at that point that I was putting too much on at once, even more importantly, I had not been wise in my placement of the fire pit. There was a circle of grass that was dry and yellow from the last time we made a fire, so instead of putting the pit somewhere away from the dry grass, I wanted to save the rest of my lawn from becoming a yard of yellow circles. So, I did the only logical thing and put the fire pit right on top of the driest grass in the yard- you can tell where this is going.

I only had so much time before I had to put the babes to bed so I wanted to get as much burned as possible. I just kept piling on, and not carefully at all. The fire was getting hotter so I was tossing the branches from a farther distance. The branches started landing on the fire so that leaves were draping down either side of the pit, but this had happened before with no consequence, so I didn't even think about it, until I noticed that the smoke was not only coming from the pit, but the grass underneath it too.

I sent my kids in side, where my six year old quickly found a plastic left over magic hat from his birthday party and started filling it up with water. I started taking trips from the house and back until the fire underneath the pit was out, but not before the yellow circle of grass was completely black. Now what am I going to do with a black circle in the middle of my yard?!?

The Set Up

I love books written in the mid 1800s. I'm still in the process of figuring out why. Part of it is the reflection of the Industrial Revolution and the empowerment to the lower classes it brought, but there is more. For a few years I've been reflecting on why I would rather read Elizabeth Gaskell, the Bronte sisters, etc. Even Jane Austen a little earlier and E.M. Forester a little later hold my interest much better than authors of today.

Finally I realized what it is. Its the character development. I love to understand and identify with the characters. Through the characters, I find truth to my own life or realize I identify with them about things I never before knew about myself.

I'm not a plot reader. I'm a character reader. Fancy plots mean nothing to me without being able to identify with the person or people experiencing the action. Maybe I'm alone out there- I must be to some point because not many books are being written these days focused on the characters rather than the plot, but if anyone can recommend current fiction with amazing character development, I'd love to know about it.

Any way, back to the point. I just started an Elizabeth Gaskell book, Mary Barton, and as I was starting it I quickly noticed that the first chapter did not even introduce Mary, the main character, and not even until the fourth did she become a major character. It was about her parents, her mothers death, and the effect it had on her childhood and relationship to her father. Now, as I start to read about her life as a young adult, I have a much better idea of what she is thinking and how she will react to events that come her way.

Its all about the set up. Its all about the introduction to the story. The best story would be left bland and tasteless without drawing in the audience before complexities start.

The same with education. Controls and variables to experiments mean nothing to children who have never wondered about the world around them, and had that curiosity encouraged. Addition means nothing to a child who doesn't understand the power of being able use it in their world.

Its all about the set up.

Relationships too. With out actually taking the time to listen, to hear the background of the life that they're living, to crawl into the skin of a friend in an interesting situation, how could one ever identify and care?

Its all about the set up.

The Wall

Its covered with vines. There's no way to tell if they could hold my weight, but what option do I have? The slapping of rubber soles on the cement grows louder and louder. Taking a deep breath I jump up.

Its strange the things that run through your head in heat of the moment.

Concentrate.

Concentrate.

Think of where your foot can find a hold. Save your attention for looking for the thickest vine, not if you turned the coffee maker off. Its a hotel room. The maid will be in the room within an hour to turn it off any way. I suppose she'll also find... concentrate.

Concentrate.

You're almost there. These vines won't hold on much longer.

They've seen me. There's a shout. And another. They've found me. Two more feet. Just two more feet and I'll be up. A vine breaks out of my left hand, and the one my right foot is resting on too. I jump up with my left foot, grab the top of the wall with my left hand. I pull my body up and with out even looking what is on the other side, I jump. I land, well fall really, roll, and stand up.

Oh my....

What have I done?

I should have stayed on the other side and risked what the consequences would have been if caught.

I hear them chuckling on the other side. They know my mistake.

But maybe...




Okay. I've obviously been reading too many novels. :) But its the moment of making a crucial decision and the consequence of the decision made by the character of the story that draws us in, doesn't it? Maybe because a part inside of each of us wants to be in that place of having to choose the unknown and the excitement that is involved, but its so much easier to read about it than actually place ourselves in such a scary place, and have to live with whatever the consequences are once we've made that decision.

I have some very good friends who have taken that risk, just last Saturday. They're great friends and have always had my respect, but now they have raised a level in my mind. Now they are role models, examples to live my life like.

They sold their home, he left his job where he was well respected, where he had been given liberties to help grow the company, and where he was making enough that she, his wife, was able to comfortably stay home with their small son. Now they are somewhere between here (MN) and New York in a rental car going to meet their few boxes they shipped that are waiting at their one room apartment at the International House at Columbia University where they will live for two years while he gets his MBA. They have this crazy dream wrapped up in ambition and excitement that caused them to leave the comfortable life to possibly become something great. There's no guarantees that they will do great things as a result of this move, but they were sure they wouldn't do great things unless they did take an incredible step like this. Leaving all that's familiar to them- friends, family, the Midwest, income, to whatever might be on the other side of that wall.

Amazing.

I hope someday I'll have that kind of courage.

Handing it Over

I can breath again. I have thoroughly enjoyed starting this school and handing it over is an even greater step of enjoyment. We hired a director a week ago and it has been amazing to see how he has taken the work I have done and expanded it in such a short amount of time. It was like the board and I created this small seed, and he is making it into something real and big. As you can see, the building is going up too. The amount of responsibility of the school was weighing on me much more than I realized and its more wonderful than words can tell to hand it over to someone qualified to take it from here.

So I am starting to wonder, what will I do with all this time I will have now that about 30 hrs. of time is freed up each week? Well, here are some ideas...

So We're Starting a School....

Yes, that's right. Starting a school, from scratch. We have our second open house tonight. We have been working on this for about a year now, and so far everything is in place. Next month we will hand it over to an administrator and trust that it goes the way we have planned.

The thing that concerns me the most is fulfilling the answer to one of our most important values- individual student achievement. I have a huge desire to stay away from over labeling, pulling students out during important instructional time, and leaning heavily on standardized assessments. How do we create a learning environment where students are able to sit down and learn what is appropriate for them, not being confused or bored? There has to be better answers than testing them every month and pulling students out that need more help out but then expect them to be responsible for the information they missed.

Some of the answers we have come up with are smaller class sizes, we're capping at 25 students per class in elementary and 20 in kindergarten, and the use of other types of assessments- anecdotal records, self assessments, etc.

Those of you who are teachers- if you were able to create the ideal classroom, how would you answer this problem?

Ability AND Motivation

Jaron, my five year old son, has been able to identify all the letters and their phonetic sounds since he was two and a half. After learning the sounds he promptly stopped having any interest in growing his ability to read. I thought, "No big deal, he's only two, I'm not going to push it." and then I said the same thing when he turned, three and four, but last summer when he turned five, I thought maybe I would push him a bit since it seemed obvious that he had the ability. He had long since learned other pre-reading skills, like rhyming beginning letter sounds, ending sounds, and some phonetic rules besides basic letter sounds. I began with phonics, and he quickly learned rules like, "when two vowels go walking the first one does the talking," and the "silent e," but when I sat down with a book with him, we would quickly find a work that did not follow the rules he had learned, or any phonic rules at all, and he would throw the book in frustration and refuse to try again. Jaron is a major perfectionist, so his response was a bit more extreme than most, but I understood his frustration. I do not question the need for phonics, but I am beginning to wonder if maybe it was not the best place to start with Jaron. We also have redl out loud to him all his life and have now read approximately 50 chapter books to him in his life. He loves to listen to us read to him and associates reading with spending time with me and his dad. I wonder if this also plays in his lack of motivation to read for himself. I think maybe he is afraid if he learns to read we won't read to him anymore. Another possible lack of motivation is that the books he could read independently do not have the more complex character development and plot as the stories he enjoys listening to. This point I question because he still enjoys listening to the more simple books we read his sister.

I am trying a few things to see if they help his motivation to read. First and most importantly, I'm releasing my expectation for him to be an early reader. I always expected this from him because he has been early at everything else, especially math, and because he learned his pre-reading skills so young. He does not need this pressure and is certainly not behind. I also don't want him to loose the enjoyment of looking at books, gleaning what he can about the story from the pictures and listening to us read to him. Secondly, I'm pointing to the words as I read to him. Lastly, I occasionally ask him to take turns reading pages in a book as I read to his sister. He can easily do this since we have been reading those same books to him for two or three years. He still is very hesitant to read a new book to us, even if it is REALLY basic and I know he could do it. Every once in a while I ask him if he would like to try, about 50% of the time he does, but I don't push it too hard.

In a few months I'll post again about this and see where we are at!

Comfort Reading

I must confess. I am a comfort reader. The busier life is, the more I read, not less. Why? Because the books I choose at this time comfort and soothe me. They tell me life is the way I would like it to be rather than how it truly is. My favorite author to read when I am looking for a comfort read is Jane Austen. Her writing style lulls me, makes me feel a little less strongly about everything and colors the sky blue. She stands up for her sex in a way that makes her readers proud to be a woman (lets face it not many men read Jane Austen books). However, when you look at the other authors of her time, the Bronte sisters and Charles Dickens for example, and the historical and political events of the time, it is obvious that she is not giving a complete picture of life in England. In my comfort reading, that's fine with me. I don't want a real picture. I just want beautiful words and courageous characters.

My whole point of this in not to harp on Jane Austen, but more to harp on myself. It is amazing how we can use books to create at world around us that protects us from the realities we most hate or fear. We choose our genre, time era, etc. to fit the world we want to live in, to hedge into when life becomes overwhelming. Of course, the authors have done the same thing, they write about the world they have created. How amazing some of those worlds are! JK Rowling's is so amazing that she has drawn an incredible amount of people into it too. No wonder is was so hard for her to end it, to end the world that she has lived in for so many years.

Even dark literature do not live in reality. They pull out for us what the author most wants his or her readers to see. The pain and deceit, but these authors are not showing the whole picture and color of life either. Poe certainly does not give us a clear picture of reality, nor the other Gothic writers. They write for reaction.

Since we all live in our own realities, is it possible to write the world as it truly is? No. Most definitely not. From our backgrounds we all pull in different aspects, colors, virtues, religious tones. The question is, is there only one reality? Are all the worlds we live in true secluded from the rest or should they be balanced by other worlds? Should my beautiful English country side world be balanced by Virginia Woolf's tints added by the industrial revolution's impact on England as a whole? Should by view of the life of the pioneers painted as a child by Laura Ingalls Wilder be impacted by Willa Cather's shading of societal impacts as the communities evolved? And another question- if it were possible to write life objectively, would anyone read it?

Lily's Library

I am currently reading The Read-Aloud Handbook by Jim Trelease and really appreciated the story about a little girl named Erin and how her mother had made a journal of her experience with books beginning at birth. Its too late for me to start so early, but I thought I would still give it a try and see if I notice patterns of success or frustration in the whole process of learning to read, beginning that first day a book is put into those chubby hands and that wet little mouth.
Lily, now two and half, has always loved books better than any toy. When she first was able to reach out an touch, she loved the Touch and Feel books. By the time she was eighteen months old she would sit on the couch by herself for forty-five minutes with a stack of books on her left hand side and carefully read through each one and put them in a pile on her right side. She would tell the story in her own language and every once in a while we would recognize a phrase that was on the page of the book she was looking at, like "Down down down!" from Cat and Mouse in the Rain by Tomek Bogacki. She then went through a phase that lasted about nine months where she would not let anyone read a book to her, but wanted to read familiar stories all by herself, and if you messed up her piles, she would let you know! This show of independence in reading is very encouraging to me. I am curious to see if it evolves into independent reading at a young age. My prediction is that it will, but I am willing to be wrong. I do not plan on pushing her into it sooner than she is ready.
Now she is starting to want to discover new, longer books and will tolerate me as a part of it since she does not know the stories to these new books by heart yet. Although the majority of the "new" books have plots that are too lengthy for her to understand (I think), she is still finding so much enjoyment in the language. One of her new favorites is The Story About Ping by Marjorie Flack and Kurt Wiese. She gets so excited for the phrase, "La la la la lei!" that when I start the read the last sentence on the page that is before the page that has this on it, she gets off of my lap and starts jumping up and down saying, "Wa wa wa wei!" with the exact sing-song intonation I use.
Her vocabulary is hilariously filled with common phrases and idioms such as, "I can't see and thing," "I can never go to bed," "That's a great song," and "He's a big old baby!" but she still cannot create her own grammatically correct sentence. We do not watch very much TV, so I think these most likely come from her literary exposure. It will be exciting to see where her love for books takes us in the coming months and years!

My Garden of Literature

From Science Fiction, to Classics, to Fantasy to Non Fiction, I love to read. I'm learning so much about myself and my opinion through it all, but more importantly, I'm learning all the questions I have that I never knew I had before. Questions like, what author is NOT influenced by religion? I mean really, there are so many books out there with moral and ethical guidelines, Christlike figures, etc. And, how does what I read change my opinions? Do I want to have those opinions, or am I just simply a product of my environment, spouting the opinions of those put into a position of authority over me, either by force or by my personal choice? Then come my questions about reading itself. Should reading be so influential, rather than personal experiences? Do I allow characters in books to live experiences so that I can enjoy the feelings and emotions without actually ever having to be in danger or leave my living room? How do I want reading to effect my young children? Should I concentrate on teaching them to read, or should I just continue to read aloud to them making reading a bonding time, making reading a symbol of safety and nurture? That brings me into the question, what is my philosophy on reading? And learning altogether? I'm part of starting a charter school in our town and the curriculum was already chosen when I joined. Since I have a decent amount of educational background, I have done a lot of the representing of the philosophy of education we have chosen and it makes sense to me, but I never really questioned it. I just said, "I can see how you could come to that conclusion." While I'm not saying its wrong, I'm slapping my own hand for not at least hearing the other side of the argument.

So, from my opinions on what I read to how to learn to read, I will be documenting my personal discoveries on what might end up being a fairly disjointed blog. Feel free to come with me on this journey and question my ideas until I can defend my ideas because they are truly what I believe, not just what I heard someone I respect say.