"There is No Friend as Loyal as a Book"

Ernest Hemingway.

So my step is obviously not at the point of reading Ernest Hemingway - she is only five, you know. But she is at the point where she's learning how to read on her own. That is, when you can convince her to.

A few months back were parent teacher conferences. My partner went to it without the bio mom, and I picked up him afterward. The teacher had glowing things to say about J - she's intelligent, she's sociable, she's friendly, and she LOVES to read. When my partner told me this news with a wry smirk on his face, I nearly died of shock. Yes, J is smart, sociable, and friendly. But loves to read? I think not.

For several weeks, we were told by her teacher that she had to read one book every other day and log it in her homework folder. Let me put it bluntly: it was a struggle to complete this log. Some days, we weren't able to do it at all. Let's elaborate.

When J comes to our home, she spends the vast majority of the time chasing our puppy (Doyle) around the apartment. From there, we have the inevitable struggle to eat (see previous post), and then she either resumes play with Doyle or dives into some other activity (often coloring, a puzzle, or my old Polly Pockets). Generally, I don't mind this system (excluding the dinner part); the playtime is good for Doyle. But it doesn't leave much opportunity to wiggle in a book reading.

When we try, there's often a sigh or a groan - roughly translated, "Do we have to?" We sit on the couch, and immediately J's attention is elsewhere. In fact, it's more of a hover over the general vicinity of the couch. She's constantly scooching forward, perpetually on the edge and ready to hop off at the drop of a hat. Each page takes an eternity; each time she encounters a difficult word, we prompt her to sound it out. Most of the time, she responds with an "I don't know," and looks on the verge of tears. She's either VERY sensitive about this or she's just testing her boundaries to see if crying will get her out of storytime. After a few laborious pages, she starts bartering - one more page? Okay, two more? There are only five left, why not just finish the damn thing (I say in my mind).

All of this is particularly perplexing for me. Not only does her teacher claim that J loves to read, but I'm an avid reader myself. I always have been, in fact. From the time my oldest sister taught me to read, I've devoured book after book. My bookshelves are literally overflowing (pun intended). One of my parents' favorite anecdotes is how, on a family vacation to Disney World around the age of 7, I shut myself in the closet so I could read my book in peace. My sisters were too loud, I remarked casually when my dad opened the door.

So how do we reconcile this? How do we get J to find herself immersed in a story so good, not even the allure of a wild puppy can draw her away? How do we help her make this most loyal of friends, this bringer of adventures and faraway places?

I don't have an answer, but perhaps a little light reading elsewhere might help me find it. As C.S. Lewis put it, "We read to know that we are not alone."