Very recently my son finished reading his first big kid book.
He just finished first grade, so he's been reading for a while. First the phonic books, then things like the Elephant and Piggy books by Mo Willems. He LOVED those books. We read a lot of other easy and first readers.
I tried to push him to read from The Magic Tree house series, he loved listening to those at bedtime and I was certain he could...but he didn't think he could.
Then one day Scholastic sent me an early release of Diary of a Pug (coming to a scholastic flyer near you soon). It was definitely a step above the books he loved, but it was also full of pictures and the story was so fun. A smart girl making an invention, and her sassy pug is telling the story. He read it with no complaints.
So I pulled out a boxed set of Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney I had purchased years ago (when there were only four). I threw them in his Easter Basket and hoped for the best.
He looked through them and was immediately curious. A few days later he strolls out with that book and shows me a picture. He's read around it and is amused. I ask him to start at the beginning because it sounds fun, and I want to hear more. Then casually say it will count as his reading log time.
HE STARTS READING. It takes him about 20 min to read 5 pages. He keeps stopping to make sure he read the word right, or to ask what something means or to comment on the pictures. He enjoys it. It's a fun story. I don't love it, but I love seeing the progress he's making reading 5-7 pages a morning. I love the confidence he's gaining. I love spending the time with him, being in this story with him, hearing his opinion about what the characters do, and his predictions about what will happen. Some mornings (that's when he reads to me) are rough because he's distracted, but this is also his homework so it needs to get done. But most mornings when he's reading to me, it's a little slice of heaven, because reading with my son is EXACTLY me being the mom I dreamed I would be. Not the one that's always in a rush. Not the one always feeling like I'm not doing my best. Not the one that doesn't know what she's doing. Not the one that feels like she's doing everything wrong.
I'm super proud of his accomplishment. I'm excited for the books he will choose for himself. I'm excited for all the things he can learn and be, because he can read. I'm maybe a little proud of me for helping him get there.
