books n' reading (repeat)

i read a lot.

not so much for myself these days, but when we visit the pediatrician and the nurse asks how many minutes we spend reading to our daughter, we chuckle. "uhhh, not minutes, hours" is our answer.

we supplement our book collection with frequent visits to neighboring libraries. selecting a book for a toddler is not as easy as it might sound. unless we all go as a family, one watchful eye is on her and the other is scanning the book quickly for content, illustrations, non-offensive gender stereotypes, a topic that might be relevant to her world, and the oh-so-important characteristic: repeat readability. few books are read once in our world, in fact, as i type, i can count no books under our roof that were read just once. repeat. that's our motto. or from her, "uh-gan!"

a friend mentioned the other day how hard it is to find decent books for her almost-3 year old. i concurred, sharing that i've been planning to blog about the goodies in our world, both for our own benefit--i hope to notice patterns and be reminded of good authors--and for anyone else who might stumble upon or be directed to my blog.

and so it happened that what spurred my first post on this topic was not a book, but a magazine. i don't subscribe to any magazines right now, but i picked up a Saveur at the grocery store a few months back that continues to move around the rooms in our home as someone reads another article. (the subtext to my first sentence being that our reading habits include slowed pace and a hunt-and-peck quality.)

our daughter is a talented narrator of her world, and when she sees this magazine, she points to the cover and yelps, "sandwich! sandwich!" the image of a gigantic bread-laden sandwich delights her in its relevance to her own eating habits, and it was this knowledge that coaxed me to sprawl on my bed with her and page through the varied sandwich concoctions. we talked about the ingredients she recognized and about those she didn't (sprouts, for one), about the different types of bread, and about elvis, who was pictured eating his favorite sammie: creamy peanut butter, banana, and honey, a combination she could happily imagine.

this activity brought me back to our visits to the pediatrician and the concept of minutes. reading isn't just a 16-page story between 2 boards. it's ascribing words and letters to meaning. it's taking moments--hours, even--to imagine a world outside our own. it's fun. and lovely to share.

don't ever wake a sleeping baby. unless.

we've been so focused on sleep the past (almost) year that i'd forgotten how sweet, how charming, how positively magnetic a baby in deep slumber is.

i had to wake her to help out my sister. when i saw how peaceful, how asleep she truly was, i held my breath. and tears flowed. such a sweet, sweet face, breathing and then sucking on her paci. like nothing else. i couldn't do it. but then i had to, and so i began to sing. i didn't want to startle her, so i sang, and then gently touched her face, and she stirred, ever so slightly, so i sang a bit more loudly, and pop! her eyes alighted on me.

sweet sweetness.

believe it

i wondered what we might chat about, and now i know.

today i asked her where her daddy was, and she resolutely turned and pointed to david. it was amazing. since friday, she's been pointing and chatting and really enjoying how this new found skill has changed our relationship with her. she's always been a curious kid, and now when she points, she learns new words, and most importantly, she can signal her needs. this evening, her meal centered around a variety of foods, and when she wanted more of one, she pointed and received. such a gratifying leap for her and for those around her!

a leap

today siena's pointing took on a whole new meaning. she began pointing to what she wanted--oatios--and when i handed one to her, she smiled broadly while i cried. it was so sweet, so tender, and so meaningful... she communicated, i responded, and we both understood our exchange was an enormous leap forward in our relationship.

she continued to point and receive, point and receive. i can't wait to find out what we'll talk about tomorrow. :)

the wind up

it is so worth it to watch this video. she pulls out every single move, and each one serves her well. it's hard to believe that she is already moving so much more than this video illustrates, just a week and a half or so ago. many of these moves are already a memory; she has new ones, now.

vast generalizations

the world can be divided into two camps...

i sorta dig wild generalizations. there are a few in which i truly believe, and others i just like to toss into the air, watching it float or fall flat: splat!

one such nugget that was tossing and turning in my gooey, sleep-deprived mind is that there are two type of humans: those who can be consoled and those who cannot.

i am of the first camp.
as of late, my daughter has joined the latter.

we tell ourselves that she is teething, that these high-pitched screams, these violent gyrations, these normally consolable fits are due to hard, angled bone mass shoving through soft and tender flesh.

but we're not really sure. we're consoled by the apparent normalcy of this reasoning, especially since her daylight self is cheery, playful, and seeking fun. we yearn to share her sunny disposition; each day less sleep turns me into a grumpski fusspot, and i'm a better person when sleep stretches longer than 3 hours.

i'm a reader

books, magazines, newspapers, blogs, twitter--i read all formats (yet prefer the type that folds). i also love reading out loud. i loved reading each week to young children in seattle, and when i suggested to david one evening on the oregon coast that we read aloud a book i'd been reading, i fell in love with the words all over again. i had been reading "crossing to safety" by wallace stegner and was enjoying it so much--and felt david would, too--that we started the book from the beginning so we could enjoy reading chapters to each other. it took us a year to read that book, because we decided that it could be read only when we visited the oregon coast. what a dreamy way to spend a year!

fast forward four years: reading aloud has shifted from husband to daughter. siena loves words, pictures, and turning pages. gone are the days (as illustrated in the photo) where books could capture her attention for a few short minutes. oh how grand a life is with books!