My Little Book Worm

I already mentioned that our present opening came to a halt so the kids could read for a bit. Well, the trend continued.

And continued
And continued.
When given the option to ride along with Daddy for a run to Starbucks (which usually includes a treat for himself), B chose to stay home and read. When his favorite shows were on TV, he chose to sit and read. I am not sure how much he comprehends the books, but he just keeps turning the pages. He asks for help with new words, both in pronunciation and definition, so I think he knows what he is reading. Either way, I am happy that his obsession is one I can really appreciate and love to feed.

Peace and Quiet

As we were all getting ready for bed last night, a sudden quiet fell over the house and I got nervous. Very nervous. Quiet usually means mischief in our house and not the silly kind, but the, "call the plumber" kind.

"Where'd they go?"

"I'm not sure."

"Hmmm. Not in her room."

"Found them."

I love not only that they were both reading, but that in his big bed, they were curled up together, sharing a pillow.

Read to Me

Books are one of the few items in the world which I consider to be truly unlimited. We have them all over the house and the kids are really starting to amass large piles of them in each of their rooms. I don't worry about making time to read to the kids too much during the day, because I know we end each evening with a few (and oftentimes several) books as part of their bedtime rituals. G asks for them in her crib. B sits with a pile to thumb through even after we leave the room.

Many nights when I do the final check of the kiddos before I head off to our room, I have to move books out of the way so they won't impede the tossing and turning I know is bound to happen during the night.

Saturday night, however, was the first time I happened upon this particular seen.

He's out cold. Open book in his hand. Dreams in his head.