I was inspired earlier this summer to improve the caliber of the material I read to my daughter. What's really been surprising to me is how much she loves it. Although I was going to "try" and see how it goes, I honestly wasn't too optimistic. I felt at 3 years old, good poetry and longer books wouldn't hold her interest. Oh how wrong I was. Instead, she is clamoring at me constantly to read even more to her.
We are currently reading Mother Goose over breakfast, Frost, Tennyson, Keats, etc. over lunch and Little House in the Big Woods at bedtime. I am so thrilled (and surprised) when I hear, muttered under her breath while she plays outside, "I think that I shall never see, a poem as lovely as a tree." Or when she makes connections between our life and Laura's. I might be doing some laundry and she'll ask if it's "Wash Day."
If you've read here very long you know that I frequently feel like I'm barely surviving parenthood by the skin of my teeth. You know I'm not writing about my daughter's love of literature to brag, but rather because it's such a wonder to me. I'm so glad I gave her a chance and hope you'll try the same with your kids.
pink paper pianos
17 hours ago