Reading

Dear Quinn,

I am watching you learn to read, and it is the most stressful thing I have ever had to do. None of the other mom seem to worry about this, but I am a mess. I was/am such a crappy reader, so this is all probably just me reflecting a bunch of childhood insecurities. I know this, so I am trying to hold it all in and act super cool. But whenever we do homework, you probably feel like I hate you. Deep breathes we can do this. I can do this. In the end I know it will all be just water under the bridge.

For example, you WILL eventually learn the difference between a "b" and a "d." Once when I was substitute teaching for a kindergarten class, a little boy did not know the difference between little b and little d. I took great pity on him because his parents must not have loved him. One day I talked to the boy about the letters and he wrote them down correctly, I was so proud of him that I took a picture. That picture made me feel really important for a long, long time pre-motherhood. I now realize this boy probably had a sweet and frustrated mother who had already had that special moment over and over again and had since given up. It apparently takes a freakishly long time to learn this. And if you never do -- oh well -- Microsoft word will fix it when you write. And I guess you can get a text reader on your computer someday so you don't read "bed" as "Deb" your whole life and get all confused. It will be a little weird, but I'll love you anyway.

Also, I tell myself that eventually you WILL learn to actually look at the words on the page instead of glancing at the word "bat" and saying "sun." And eventually, I'm guessing, you will stop yelling, "I already read that word" when I ask you nicely to maybe try that one again.

Eventually (please) this will all work out. But I wanted you to know it was stressful and painful and awful and took deep breaths and patience and compassion -- and an expensive eBook about how to do homework with your child.

Someday -- in your motherhood -- you might need to know this. It is nice to know the truth. There are some things I thought were so easy for my mom when I was growing up. Now I find out some things were not so easy. I write this letter least you get confused. Reading sucks. I love you.

Keep reading, dade. I mean "babe." You're awesome, Bube.

(I mean "Dude.")