College Education Is Not For Everyone?

I just read this article about whether or not college is for everyone:

http://www.usatoday.com/news/education/2010-03-16-1Acollegeforall16_CV_N.htm

Personally, I grew knowing (I was quite sure) that college was the only way to succeed in life. I spent a large chuck on my life getting an education, and I knew that I was doing the absolute right thing.

During my college years, I fell in love my husband. He had no desire to go to college-he told me that he knew it would be a waste of time and money for him. He told me that he knew kids that probably weren't cut out for college and spent large amounts of money for a degree that they never achieved. Now we own a successful plumbing business and he has a masters license and has achieved his dream.

Then there's me. I remember taking an IQ test and being told that I had the same IQ as Oprah. So, where's my talk show and my billion dollars? Actually, I really don't care about the money. The truth is, I have been bothered by my lack of accomplishment ever since I was watching Oprah the other day. She had a show about amazing people and she said, "I always felt that I would do something great." I always believe that I would, too. We have the same IQ and grew up with the same feeling about ourselves-we're also both African-American women. What happened to me? Lately, I've felt like the most successful thing I accomplish during the week is finishing the laundry.

The other day my sister brought me some stuff from my childhood. Occasionally, when my dad is cleaning out the crawl space, he randomly dumps old stuff of mine at my house that I don't want. (He's probably laughing as he reads that.) This time my sister brought a story that I wrote in 1991. I ignored it for a while, but the other day I picked it up during some down time. As I read it, I realized that I was actually a better writer at the age of 13 than I am now. My ideas for the story were definitely immature, but they were written really well. It got me thinking that maybe there is something that I can do and take care of kids at the same time. Maybe writing can help me to feel a sense of purpose and accomplishment outside of my children.

So, I'm trying to be optimistic again. I'm starting up another blog. This blog is for cathartic purposes and the other blog is more for future job purposes. I'll reveal that one as it gets closer to being finished. Best wishes as you discover what you were meant to do!

A quote I just read on USA Today:

"We must learn to honor excellence in every socially accepted human activity, however humble the activity, and to scorn shoddiness, however exalted the activity. An excellent plumber is infinitely more admirable than an incompetent philosopher. The society that scorns excellence in plumbing because plumbing is a humble activity and tolerates shoddiness in philosophy because it is an exalted activity will have neither good plumbing nor good philosophy. Neither its pipes nor its theories will hold water."
--John Gardner, "Excellence"

Babies Never Have Gas During the Day

Sorry I haven't been around, but I was being reminded of law 47 (or so) of Murphy's law: Babies never have gas during the day.

Monday night seemed like a normal night. We watched Chuck with the neighbors. Mark was a little under the weather, so he went to bed at 10:00 while I chatted. I returned to the house at about 10:30 and got ready for bed. At 11:00, just as I was laying down, I heard Isaiah start screaming.

Disappointed that I couldn't go to sleep, but glad that he woke up before I fell asleep, I picked him up. He was NOT happy. He had gas. LOTS of it. After about 45 minutes, I decided that I might as well get comfortable, and I went down to the basement where the nice couch and the TV are. I watched Chuck again with Isaiah screaming, rotating his position during the commercials. At 1:00 Mark showed up.

I went to sleep, but Mark said that after an hour of screaming, at 2:00 he took Isaiah on a scenic drive of the neighborhood. He said that he checked out the new shops in the Highlands Ranch Town Center. He even found a nice new restaurant. By 3:00, he and Isaiah were asleep.

Enter Micah. He decided that he wanted to join the fun. At about 5:00 he had an accident. The first accident he had at night since the first month we potty trained him--of course it is the same night that Isaiah was up. I drug myself in his room, changed his clothes and all of his sheets. I put him back to bed and then dropped into bed--at which point Isaiah woke back up with more gas.


At 5:45ish I fed Isaiah a bottle and helped him relieve some more gas. Exhausted, I climbed back into bed.

At 7:00 the alarm went off. Time to get the girls to school.

Tuesday night we had a similar routine. I totally need a vacation.

The Worst Tooth Fairy Ever

I have a confession to make. I am the worst tooth fairy ever. Let me share why--I'm sure you'll agree.

Elena lost a tooth on Thursday. She couldn't find her tooth fairy pillow and was a little concerned, but I told it would be okay if she put the tooth under her pillow in an obvious location. She chose a basket and went to sleep with happy expectations.

Well, Mark and I forgot about the tooth. Didn't think about it once again all night. The next morning, Elena rushes downstairs.

"Mom, my tooth is still here!" She looked worried.

Ooops. I tried to make a recovery, "Maybe she's on vacation?"

Elena looked confused, "The tooth fairy went on vacation?"

"Tooth fairies need breaks, too. Where's your backpack?" I knew I had to change subjects before it got too deep.

That night, Elena faithfully returned her tooth to the basket under her pillow. (I have no idea how she slept like that.) Mark and I had a relaxing Friday night with my dad. Once again, the tooth never crossed our minds.

Saturday morning came and Elena was upset when she realized that the tooth was still under her pillow. This time she picked it up and brought it downstairs to show me that the tooth fairy didn't show up again. She was upset as it was, but being a normal child, she set the tooth down somewhere on the trip to visit me and forgot where it was. By the time I saw her she was sobbing hysterically.

I went to see why she was crying. I found her dramatically sobbing with her head buried in her arms. To help visualize the scene, remember that my daughter is a TOTAL drama queen.

"What's up?" I asked.

She looks at me with red, tear filled eyes, "The tooth fairy forgot...." dramatic pause, "AGAIN!" She continued her crying.

I've never been a guilty mom, but at this point I'm starting to feel a little bad. I couldn't believe that I forgot AGAIN.

Taking a deep breath, Elena then proceeds to tell me that she lost find the tooth. "It's so HORRIBLE. This is the worst day EVER."

I sighed. I knew I was in for a long, emotional day of drama. The worst part was that I did it to myself. "I think the tooth fairy is still on vacation. Maybe she wanted to see her mom."

Elena looked at me, "Is she ever coming back?"

I hugged her, "I'm sure she is."

"Well, I lost my tooth. How will she know I lost it?"

"Write her a letter."

Elena ran straight to my office to find paper and a pencil and wrote the following letter to the tooth fairy (word for word--wrong punctuation and all):

Dear Tooth Fairy,
I lost my tooth and I can't find it. I tried and tried to find it but I just can't. I wan't to find it just for you.
From,
Elena.

Elena tucked the letter in the basket under her pillow. That night she went to sleep assured that the tooth fairy was coming.

Fast forward to Sunday morning. Okay, I am ashamed to admit it--we forgot again. Repeat previous drama. Repeat the story that the tooth fairy is still on vacation.

By the way, my daughter does not at all believe in Santa. Every year she gives me about 10 reasons why Santa's trek across the earth is impossible. Why can't she figure out the tooth fairy? Especially since I'm so BAD at being the tooth fairy. It would relieve a lot of parental pressure. Mark and I joked about writing a blog about this mess that evening. It made me feel a little better.

Fast forward to Sunday night. We went to sleep and forgot. I know, I know. How is that even possible? All I know is that I have 4 kids and I haven't had enough sleep in weeks. Plus, Mark and I painted a lot of the day. All that adds up to falling asleep on the couch in a state of exhaustion. Luckily I got a break.

Mark jumped straight up out of bed at about 3:00. Yanked out of a great sleep, I jumped up, too.

"What in the world?" I asked groggily.

Mark looked at me, "I was dreaming about you blogging."

"And."

"You said you were going to blog about being a bad tooth fairy. We never took care of the tooth fairy thing!"

We stumbled out of bed- Mark much faster than I. Half asleep I tried to direct him to where I had some cash. We decided that we should pay a dollar for every night she waited. It was the tooth fairy's way of say sorry.

Elena was ecstatic the next morning. She thought that it was awesome to receive 4 whole dollars. Mark and I tried (in our exhausted state) to show just as much excitement. In fact, I'm yawning as I type this.

Most parents are good at playing the roll of the imaginary fairies with their first child and then lose steam as more kids get older. What are we going to do? We're on the first child with 3 more to go.

I'd really like the tooth fairy to get fired, but in all honesty she probably won't be. By the time Isaiah starts losing teeth I'll probably end up owing him enough money to pay for a year at a small private school. Cha-ching.

Flashback Friday: Trust Me, You're Going to Need a Stroller

I've decided to make Friday an official flashback day. It is the day that I can share some of the crazy things that have happened to me in years past. This flashback is in honor of Micah.

When I was in my last trimester of pregnancy ever, my son Micah decided that he should be an Olympic sprinter. Since we did not have a track--or room enough for him to get in his sprinting practice, he put in his best practices when we were away from home.

One day, as Mark, the kids, and I were passing the mall, I needed to buy some pregnancy clothes. The mall we were passing was an outdoor mall, and it was easy to run in and out of stores. Mark decided to take the kids to Cold Stone for some ice cream while they waiting.

When I left Mark with the 3 kids at Cold Stone, I began to take out the stroller. Mark shook his head, "I don't need it--it will just get in the way. I'll carry Micah." BIG MISTAKE.

Trying to make him see reason, I told him, "Micah likes to run. I keep him strapped in a 5 point harness at all times when I'm out in public." You'd think that he would listen considering I am with the kids all day long.

"I'm not pregnant-I don't need it. How fast can a 2 year old run anyway?"

I shrugged, knowing that he was just asking for trouble. Then I left. Here's what happened next as told to me by both Elena and Mark:

Cold Stone had the door propped open for fresh air. The side wall of the store was lined with windows, so you can see a panoramic view of the mall. Between Cold Stone and the next store was a street leading to a small neighborhood. Mark sat the 3 kids at a table and told Elena to watch Micah. (She was about 7 1/2 at the time). He then went to order ice cream. Just as he pulled out his wallet to pay, he turned towards the windowed wall and saw Micah running and laughing and Elena chasing him-outside. About a second after he turned around, Micah looked back at Elena and then dove into bushes that were separating the sidewalk from the street and proceeded to run as fast as possible down the middle of the street toward the neighborhood. When Micah cut through the bushes, Elena stopped and stared at him with her mouth dropped open.

At this point, Mark dropped his wallet and keys on the counter and took off running. He ran out of the side door, hopped the bushes, and then ran after Micah down the middle of the street. He said that he was running as fast as he could to catch up to him. Then, when he grabbed him, Micah giggled and had that look in his eyes--that look that said that he loved this game!

When I returned to the store, Mark was holding Micah in his lap with an unusually tight grip.

"How'd it go?" I asked. It looked like he had it all under control.

"Don't ask."

He never questioned why I used a stroller again.

Mom vs. The Wii

I regret asking for a Wii for Christmas. There, I admitted it. Or more accurately, I regret letting my kids know that we got a Wii. I'm really okay with having it around for me and Mark to enjoy.

Let me explain... On Saturday it was BEAUTIFUL outside. The temperature had to be near 70 degrees. Before the Wii, my kids would beg to go outside and play. They would love to explore the yards and play with their friends. Not anymore.

Saturday morning my kids begged all morning to play the Wii. I kept telling them no, but they were persistent. I don't know how many times I told them to get dressed and go outside, but they had one thing on the brain--the Wii.

Finally, I got their clothes and got them dressed (Elena was gone--I learned later that she was playing the Wii at someone else's house). Finally, I literally opened the door, picked up Micah and Christina, placed them on the porch, and then closed the door. I peered through the door hole and saw them stare at the door for a few moments and then slowly walk towards the other kids.

What have I done to my children! Last year at this time we had no video games and a 19" TV with a weird spot in the corner. My kids had no problem playing imaginative games and LOVED to play outside. Now they think that they have to be entertained all of the time. Right after Christmas I let them have fun playing on the Wii for half the day, but now even with the 2 hour TV limit reinstated, they still don't seem as excited about free playing as they used to. Now they act like going outside to play is some kind of punishment. After about 20 minutes they seem to remember how have fun, but getting them outside is painful for both of us.

I think I'll invest more time reminding my kids how they used to have fun just 2 1/2 months ago. Maybe I'll hide the Wii in my bedroom so Mark and I can play, but the kids won't know about it. We can play Super Mario Brothers while they rest up for their next fun day of running around outside.

Beautiful Is Looking Like Everyone Else?

The Oprah show had a special report entitled Beauty Around the World. I found it very disturbing and just had to react to it.

Part of the show was about how western (aka. American) culture has influenced the rest of the world. Just 40 years ago Chinese women were forced to dress like men and makeup was outlawed. Now, I guess the beauty industry in booming in China. The editor of Vogue, Chinese edition, said that when a new trend is shown in the magazine, they have to explain where the trend came from and why it is popular. Things we take for granted like nylons are even new to many women in China. (And why would anyone intentionally want to embrace that tradition?)

The part that disturbs me the most is that companies are showing the Chinese women what is popular so they can sell their products. They aren't using Asian models. Companies are selling the same look that they sell over here. That just is preparing a new generation to want to look like someone else. How is that good?

For example, Chinese women are having thousands of eyelid surgeries to make their eyes westernized so that they can, in turn wear trendy eye makeup. I think that Chinese beauty needs to be promoted to Chinese women. Encouraging women to look more western so you can sell more eye makeup is SO wrong on so many levels. We need to love what God has blessed us with and not want to look like someone from a country far away.

As an African American woman, I have seen the self-doubt that is produced by living in a society that valves a beauty different than your own. African American women aren't changing their eyelids-they are paying way too much money to change their hair so that they can have the hair styles that are shown on the popular models. I think that embracing ones own natural beauty is the first step towards embracing who you truly are.

I am always trying to tell my girls how beautiful they are. I know that they have a unique look because they are a mix of races. I'm just not sure if I'm winning the battle against popular culture. At least one person a week tells me that Elena could be a model, but she still wishes that she could have blond hair or green eyes like her daddy. I'm trying to figure out how I can make her realize that God made her perfect just the way she is. I'd gladly take any suggestions.

I just think that there is SO much more that we can instill in our girls than vanity. How about character and integrity? We could even mix in a little fiscal responsibility. That reminds me: I was in the toy aisle at Target and I saw that a lot of the dolls were pushing an empty fashionable coolness. I guess a Helen Keller doll wouldn't sell very well next to all of those fancy dolls out there. I guess it's hard to "sell" character in a toy.

I could go on forever on this subject, so I'm going to end here. This is just a subject that touches my heart. Feel free to comment! I enjoy listening to other opinions.

George Washington Lives in South Dakota

Christina asks me the other day, "Do you know who George Washington is?"

"Yes. He was the first president of the U.S."

"Well, he lives in South Dakota. Can we go see him sometime? Here's a map."

She hands me a picture of a colored rectangle, a line going from the rectangle up, then it goes to the right to another rectangle. She might be a little confused when she sees that "he" is a mountain, and not a person. At the least the map was generally accurate!

I Stand Corrected

I was incorrect in my last post. Mark read my blog and rightly accused me of not listening to his story. SO, Tabitha and Shabitha (not Sabitha) did not, in fact, have rainbow socks. Their story was lame, so Mark had started a new story about the magical socks. The jist of it is this: The rainbow socks went to a few different houses by mail until it landed at a boy's house. The boy made the rainbow socks stinky and dirty and then the boy tossed them away. Then a poor girl, who had hardly anything to her name, found the socks. Anyone else would have thrown them away, but the little girl didn't have much and so she washed them and took care of them. When she wore the socks (this is where it gets good), apparently they made her into a professional basketball player for the WNBA and she was never poor again. They were better than a pair of Nikes. LOL! I must apologize to Mark for not getting it right the first time. :)

Magical Stories

Tonight Christina begged to sleep in our bed with us. I tried my best to explain that we don't go to sleep right away. I left out the part that we stay up as late as possible so we can have as much fun as possible without kids. Instead, I told her to sleep with Elena.

Well, Christina went to ask Elena if she could sleep in the bed with her. Elena "all of the sudden" had a stomach ache and couldn't sleep with anyone for fear that she may throw up on them. How considerate of her... So, I jumped in bed with Christina. Soon Micah wanted a part in all of the love.

At this point, Elena was feeling a little left out. The girls share a room, and Micah kept counting the three of us in Christina's bed--kind of rubbing in that Elena was alone. So, she called her daddy. Mark came in, looked at both beds, and then jumped in with Elena. That's when the fun began.

"Daddy, tell us a story!" Elena begged. Mark has this ritual on the nights that the girls go to bed on time--he makes up bedtime stories. He had been working late all week and the girls had missed his stories. They always rave about how wonderful they are. I was honored to be a part of the story time magic.

We turned off the light and only the glow from the hallway remained. Then, Mark starts this crazy story about a girl named Tabitha and her sister. He had a hard time coming up with the sister's name when all of the sudden the name Sabitha came out of his imagination. I really wanted to laugh, but the kids were totally engrossed in the story.

A whole story about Tabitha and Sabitha begins. They had some magic rainbow socks, and no one ever could see how magically special they were because the girls didn't have shoes and the socks were caked in mud. That's about where Mark lost me because it was way over the top corny. Before I spaced out, I looked at the girls-- and they were totally invested in the story.

Kids are so innocent. We expose them to adult themed shows and movies so early in our culture. I think that they just want to believe that the world is a magical place. I watched them as they listened to Mark. Elena forgot about her stomach ache. Christina forgot why she wanted to sleep with us. I could see from their faces that they wanted a magical pair of socks of their own. That story-corny as it was-was better than any movie we could have shown them.

Somewhere near the end Elena sat up, "We need Isaiah! He's the only one not in here."

At that point Mark jumped up to check on him. He had fallen asleep in our room. She was disappointed that he couldn't join the rest of the family. (It's not like a 9 month old wants to hear a story about socks.) I tucked the kids in bed.

"Don't worry," I told her. "I'm sure Daddy has plenty more stories for another day."

I'm sure they are dreaming about their magical rainbow socks right now.

The Famous Shoeless Christina Friesen

Christina and shoes have never gone together. Ever. In the summer she loves to run through rocks, bark, mud, and sand in just her bare feet. Cold? No problem. She has been known to run outside shoeless in winter weather. I really wasn't sure how to remedy this situation.

For example, almost every day my daughter has her shoes on backwards. I don't know how many times Mark has sat down with her and showed her how to figure out which shoe goes on which foot. Nevertheless, even if we send her to school with her shoes on the right feet, she returns home with them on the wrong feet. I swear she does this because it irritates us and we can't get mad at her about it.

One morning we got all the way to school and I hear her little voice from the back seat tell me, "I don't have my shoes."

I looked at her through the rear view mirror. "What do you mean you don't have any shoes?"

"I left them at home."

At that point I let the other kids out of the van and put the van in park. From that point Christina and I proceeded to climb through the car looking for anything that might fit her feet. I really didn't want to go back home.

We were in the car searching for her shoes so long that we heard a knock at the window. I reached over to open the window. It was the vice-principal. "Is everything okay in here?" he asked. I can imagine what he was thinking. We were sitting at the front of the carpool line and I'm sure that he could see the car shaking and shadows moving around inside.

"Everything's fine," I smiled, "We're just having shoe issues." I then went to the trunk where I found a pair of snow boots. Christina began to put them on and then made a mad dash into the school. Another exciting shoe related day.

Almost every morning we do a housewide shoe search. About 90% of the time Christina has no idea where her shoes are. We drive carpool in the morning, so we really need to leave on time. All 5 of us who can walk end up searching through the house for the creative location of the day where Christina's shoes might be. They are almost never in the same place. This morning one was in the laundry room by the cat litter box and the other was in the bucket with the train pieces in the play room.

The fact that we are almost late every day had been bugging me until I got a great idea on how to remedy the situation. I was listening to Kevin Leman on Focus on the Family. He is the author of the book Have a New Kid By Friday. He shared a hilarious story about a mom who had a son that made everyone late everyday. One day she left him and took everyone else to school. Then she picked him up and dropped him off without a note to excuse his absence. He was never late again after he had to go to the principal's office and explain why he was late. I thought I'd try this idea myself. Christina is too young to leave alone, but Mark is usually home until I return from dropping the kids off at school.

I gave Christina a week of warnings. I told her that if she wasn't ready that one day I was going to leave without her. One day she had the nerve to tell me, "You always say that and you never really do." Game on!

On Tuesday I gave her a 15 minute, 10 minute, and 5 minute warning. Then I told Elena to get in the car. (She wanted to go find Christina's shoe herself, but I wouldn't let her.) I think Christina was hand feeding the cat. As soon as the garage door opened she showed up at the door. No shoes, socks, coat or backpack.

"Mommy-don't leave me!" she screamed in a panic.

I leaned my head out the window, "I told you I was going to leave and you didn't get ready. I'm outta here!"

From that point she didn't run in the house. She started crying from the garage door with a look of shock on her face. She didn't believe that I was going to really do it. The most amazing thing was that the rest of us were actually on time to school with TIME TO SPARE. No one had to run into the school to make it before the bell. It was so much more relaxing than usual.

When I returned, Christina was dressed and laying across the floor in a state of depression. "I can't believe you left!" I put her in the car and took her to school. When she entered her classroom she paused, looked at me and sighed. I figured that she wouldn't do that again. I was wrong.

The next morning was a complete repeat of the day before. This time when I was driving her to school late she told me, "You don't even like me!"

I looked at her through the rear view mirror, "This has nothing to do with me. You are responsible for yourself. If you had been ready, you would have made it to school on time."

She crossed her arms and huffed. I continued, "Do I have to ask Elena to put her shoes on in the morning?"

A weak NO came from the back seat.

"Do I ask her to put her coat on?"

"No."

"Do I ask Elena to get her back pack ready?"

"No."

"What were you doing when I left?"

"Ummmmmm. Playing with the cat?"

I think it was beginning to sink in. I closed the conversation, "All you need to do is get yourself ready. I'm not going to do it. Elena is not going to do it. Daddy is not going to do it. I always love you. You just need to take care of yourself."

The car was quiet for the rest of the trip, but I think she learned a lesson that day. The next day I went to leave and she had been waiting in the car for ME. She was so proud of herself--she was beaming. I told her how proud I was at her when I saw that she even had her shoes on. They were on the wrong feet, of course, but she had finally taken some responsibility for herself.

Reading ideas...

Let me just preface this blog entry by saying that I do love the Tattered Cover Book Store. I thought it was awesome that someone from the store took the time to read my blog and comment on it. Of course, I wasn't saying a lot of nice things about the new reader chapter book literature selection, but I don't think that the selection of chapter books for new readers is even their fault--the publishers want authors that pump out a book every 3 months. (And they at the Tattered Cover say that is what sells-probably because sometimes we as parents don't take the time to find out what are kids are reading.) Maybe I should write children's books instead of talking about them.... There's a thought.

Here are some reading suggestions from Dawn. Other friends suggested some of these books, too, but they were all the same books that Dawn chose, so she gets all of the credit. (Sorry everyone else!)

The Little House books, Anne of Green Gables, Narnia, The Secret Garden, Peter Pan, the Ramona series and Superfudge. Also, Ella Enchanted and Lloyd Alexander's Chronicles of Prydain.

My friends at The Tattered Cover also gave me some suggestions to help find a good book. I haven't had a chance to check them out yet myself, but I will this weekend:

http://www.ala.org/ala/mgrps/divs/alsc/awardsgrants/bookmedia/newberymedal/newberymedal.cfm

http://tinyurl.com/yam7js6

http://news.bookweb.org/features/7307.html

http://www.publishersweekly.com/article/417656-Best_Children_s_Books_of_2009.php

Coming soon to my blog.....Yet another crazy adventure with Christina--but that will have to wait until the morning. I can't keep my eyes open!

Success By Bribery

I was going to write some more of my never ending adventures with Christina. I have a great story to tell, but Elena says that all of my blogs are about Christina. That's probably true--she is the one that exasperates me the most. To be fair, today is about Elena.

Elena is bright (if I do say so myself), but she just didn't have ANY interest in reading. This really bothered me. As a child I spent a large amount of time reading books with a flashlight under my covers. I read everything. One of the hardest feats in reading that I accomplished was reading the Lord of the Rings series in 5th grade. That was a challenge. How in the world could I give birth to a child that had no interest in reading.

SO, I went to the Tattered Cover to check out the juvenile fiction section. About 95% of the section was populated with books from some Fairy series or the Magic Tree House books. I bought a few books (they were really cheap), and I still didn't have any luck.

Frustrated, I decided to read a few of the popular books that are around. I figured out pretty quickly why she didn't like to read much. The writing is TERRIBLE in the new popular book series. I was really shocked at the low quality of the books that were being pushed on kids. I remember the Fudge and Ramona books from my day. They were books for kids that were written by writers. The books that I looked at were just words printed on a paper with a wizard or fairy to make them cool. I was NOT impressed.

I had no idea where to start. I was going to give Elena Superfudge, but I remembered her first grade teacher telling me that it talks about doubts about Santa. That was right around Christmas. Although Elena doesn't believe in Santa, I didn't need to remind her about that belief and have her ruin some other child's Christmas. I looked at some other options before I ran into one of the new American Girl books.

Now, I have to be honest---I was not expecting much, but once I started reading the book I was interested in the story of the girl. I started looking at some of the other books and I was impressed at how history came alive in the lives of the characters.

I guess I'm a little idealistic. I want my kids to read books that improve their skills in reading. I don't want to have them read just to check another book off a list. I think we're already dumbing our kids down and making them immature by putting them at the center of the universe and entertaining them mindlessly at all times. Don't even start me on the effect that texting is having on the younger generation's writing skills...

Crossing my fingers, I handed Elena two of the books that I wanted her to read. She just sighed, put them in her room and then returned and asked if she could play on the Wii. This is going to be harder than I thought-she is already convinced that reading is boring. For a couple of days I tried to come up with a way to get her to start reading. One day I passed the books sitting on her nightstand and had an idea.

For Christmas I bought the kids all 1 large Christmas gift each. I bought Elena an American Girl doll. She had been hinting that she wanted more clothes for her doll, but they are so expensive that I knew that she would have to earn them. When I looked at the American Girl book, I figured that I could merge the two: She reads books and earns clothes for the American Girl doll. Perfect! I wish that my parents had paid me to read!

Elena was all over my proposition. She actually picked up one of the books and started to read it. Not long after that, she was hooked. I found her reading the books on her own. I even found her reading at night with a book light that I had stuffed in her stocking at Christmas. She was finally enjoying reading (and I was enjoying watching her read)!

Elena was told that if she read 4 chapter books (that I chose) she could get an outfit for her doll and one to match for her to wear. At first she talked about the outfits that she was going to pick. Now, she talks about the next book she is going to read. All it took was a good book and a little bribery. In fact, my sister just gave Christina an older American Girl doll. She just asked me today, "Mom, can I read to get clothes for my doll, too?" That made me smile!