Sunday, October 18, 2009


My boy can read.

I mean, I hate to be that Momma that brags on her kids all the time, but dang, my boy can read!

This morning, as we were reading a “Franklin” book, there were probably only ten words he flat-out didn’t know. The rest, he read with confidence and vigor. Not only that, but he reads with inflection. When he would be reading dialogue, his voice would rise and lower in register and pitch, showing that an adult or another kid was talking. It was truly amazing to watch—I cannot thank Mrs. B. from his former school and Mrs. Davis, whose class is is in now, enough for their work with him. It’s very exciting to see his talent and interest budding.

I will admit, though, that it is kind of frustrating, sometimes. I was writing an email to my boss the other day, letting her know that I would be out the next day. Harrison was reading the email over my shoulder, quietly sounding out the words.

“Hey Mom, what does ‘I will not be in the classroom tomorrow’ mean?”

“Well, it means, that I’m going to be staying home from work tomorrow.”

“Awesome! What are we going to do?”

“Well, son, you’re going to school to continue working on your reading and I’m going to stay home with Laura [who was sick at the time].”

“Awwwwwwwww. I never get to stay home!”

I guess I’m going to have to get rid of my Napoleon Dynamite pants, too, since they’ve got “You’re an Idiot!” written all over them. Sigh. They were my favorite pair, too.

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