My son is six. He needs to read. Look for a book! It must be short. It must be simple. It is fun to read. We read every day.
(See?! Short little sentences are permeating my brain!)
Grade 1 means nightly reading homework, and it’s the very first homework we’ve had in our household so it’s exciting. Well, it was exciting for the first few nights. Now I twitch a little at the thought of listening to our son sloooooowly re-read one of the very, very simple books called “easy-readers.”
Don’t get me wrong — it’s awesome to hear him read. It’s like a miracle, sitting on the couch and listening to the speech therapy kid who communicated exclusively in sign language for nearly three years of his life reading me an entire book!
All throughout Primary, I was in awe every time he learned to read and write a new word (The! At! In! Me! Go!) and it almost felt like witchcraft. He’s an even better reader now, and that means instead of pointing to words on a list, he’s settling in to read a book from cover to cover. Mind-blowing.
It’s just that … well … the books are terrible …