"There are too many words on the page." That is what my little one would tell me last summer when I would try to get her to read a beginning chapter book. Of course my retort was, "It doesn't matter how many words are on the page. You read word by word and you know all these words."
No luck. She refused. No reading chapter books. Not that day. Not ever.
In her defense, despite coming from a family of readers, reading had never come easy. Her eyes don't focus equally, but we caught it. She undertook vision therapy and now the only stumbling block was the preprogrammed responses held in her grey matter. It was this parent's nightmare. Without reading where could she go? How would she make it through the growing rigors of third grade and then beyond?
We hired tutors; one hour a week. Lovely teachers, who would sit and play "the reading mommy" with her. Still this summer she fought the chapter books, and to be honest I was thankful it wasn't me in the ring.
Then this Fall it all clicked. Our tutor is a local kindergarten teacher; only 30 minutes a week, and she offers support to classroom materials first, then fun books. My lovely goes willingly. The lovely is reading beautifully and just might be at grade level for the first time ever in her school career. Last week her sister and she were reading the Star Spangle Banner in its entirety. Sounding out the old English and then figuring out each words meaning.
But the creme de la creme was last night. For last night, sitting at the kitchen table, having hot chocolate, the little one, her sister and I were reading our individual books; together. The little one is reading a Redwall, and at one point she announced, "This is a chapter book, (No clue the thing is huge.) but it doesn't matter 'cause you read one word at a time."
I nearly fell off my chair. Yet another Christmas present delivered early. No need for wrapping.