What We Need

     Once a month at C’s school, they have Friendly Friday, where family members can come and read to kids in their child’s class for 30 minutes. The kids love it, and it’s probably a nice change of pace for them. They really seem to enjoy having the family members come in to read to them. I try to go as often as possible, and spend a fair amount of time picking out books that I hope the kids haven’t read before. Today I took books with serious morals in their stories (such as The Thirsty Moose - a Native American story about a big moose who drinks all the water in the river, and the little fly who gets in his ear and drives him crazy, causing the moose to leave the river), hoping to impart some wisdom to the kids, however subliminal.

     Yet I’m pretty sure there’s a conspiracy going on. Sure, the school tells us “it’s for the kids,” “reading to kids 30 minutes a day ensures their love for books,” and other such propaganda. I bought into that completely, and patted myself on the back for doing my civic service. But I realized today as I walked out of the school, big, stupid grin on my face, that it’s not for the kids at all. It’s for us, the parents who arrange an hour off work to go into their child’s classroom, the grandparents who nervously walk down the hall not sure exactly where to go, the stay at home Moms who are forced out of sweatpants and into the world. I’m quite sure I got much more out of it than the bright-eyed kids who sat in a half-circle around me and listened to me read to them.

     I love to read. My Mom used to buy me Nancy Drew books at the bookstore, and I’d finish one before we got home. I devour books. Imagine my delight when we discovered, at age 3, that C could read. He barely spoke 10 words, but we realized he could read all of them and more. It’s called “hyperlexia,” and is considered a savant skill relating to autism. Generally it levels out as kids catch up, but in terms of comprehension children with hyperlexia tend to fall behind their peers.

     Tonight I had a joyful moment - we had done lights out and it was very quiet in C’s room. In the past, this has translated to him filling up his bathroom sink with water, putting way too much toilet paper in the toilet, or opening his blinds to look out the window. Tonight, however, I caught him doing something I used to do as a kid - reading with a flashlight. He was sitting cross-legged, flashlight in hand, reading a book. It made my day.