See Jane Read

I'm not a fan of a lot of things that happen in early childhood. Colic? You can keep it. Potty training? A necessary evil. Tantrums? Don't even get me started.

But I am a huge fan of that day when we first start getting those signs of readiness from our kids that tell us it's time to pull out the Dick and Jane.

Some parents use fancy methods that involve spending money and changing batteries, but in our house we are Dick and Jane purists. There's a reason it's been around for generations.

The first month isn't fun. I won't lie. That's why Chris and I trade off every other night. (Yay for me having the best husband in the world!) This is no one man job. There's a lot of "I cant" and "That isn't even a word!". But then the magic starts to happen. They slowly begin to be pulled in by the story. They laugh at the pictures. They start to become confident in themselves. That's how it was with Emily and that's how it was with Jane. 

Tonight Jane finished the Dick and Jane treasury. I was sad and a bit misty eyed that I will never pull it off the shelf again. Because I love the magic that happens when a kid learns to read. 

We will continue to read with Jane. We will listen to her struggle through Danny the Dinosaur and Frog & Toad. Then she will move on to the (somewhat inane) stories of Magic Treehouse. But our Dick and Jane days are done. Someday our kids will be parents and we will try to pass the treasury onto them. They will roll their eyes and tell us we are out of touch with kids and learning styles. That doesn't matter. As far as I'm concerned Dick and Jane is inextricably intertwined with the magic of my babies learning to love reading.

Interview with a Vampire (and a Scottish Princeess)

We're all in candy detox right now so the memories of Halloween don't seem so golden yet, but I'll share them while they're fresh anyway.

This year we skipped the fancy internet patterns and the dremmel. Emily drew a face on her pumpkin, which was carved by a semi-responsible adult and Jane gave some general marching orders to daddy, who made her wishes into pumpkin reality.

(Emily's is on the left, Jane's on the right)

Someday, when Emily's a mom, she will appreciate the all the school holiday parties we attended. I look forward to the day when I can just send her to school with some juice boxes and tell her to have a fun time. Of course, this will mean that I'm no longer cool, but I will do my best to accept the downgrade gracefully.

Here she is, as Mavis the Vampire at her school party:

Just a few hours later, it was time to go trick or treating with Jane, who made an adorable Merida.

Grandma and Grandpa rolled into town just before the festivities began and came to wish the kids a happy Halloween.

And then we were off.

It was exceptionally windy this year so that red wig didn't last long. Jane lasted longer than the wig, toughing it out for about two hours and Emily lasted about two and a half before she fell and skinned her knee. They both outlasted me. I came home to switch with Chris halfway through, in accordance with our traditional Halloween agreement. 

The kids were rewarded with plenty of loot:

A couple days later we discovered how much joy $20 could buy in the Halloween clearance aisle. The answer is a lot of joy. The dress up box o'erfloweth. 

And now... less than two months left of the kids watching the Nightmare before Christmas. Because it's both a Halloween and a Christmas movie. Thanks, Tim Burton, you weirdo freak.