The Queen's Rambles

Before having children I imagined one of the most exciting things about having kids would be the trips to the library, the shared love of reading, the stories. . . oh, the stories!

Then I had a boy.

Not saying boys can’t love stories, but in my experience as an English teacher and mother a lot of boys don’t really enjoy things that aren’t true. The boys usually head straight for the non-fiction section and disdain stories. I still don’t understand how, in this modern world, men are still considered the holders of “real” literature. Yes, yes. Blame the patriarchy. All that. I weep for all the lost historical literature that never was thanks to a society that didn’t teach women to read or encourage them to write.

Anyway, we’ve struggled since Erik’s birth to get him interested in books and reading. I have basically given up on trips to the library because the effort was scorned. The only good part of the library? The fish tank. You think me, Ms. Fish Phobic, really wants to take a special trip so I can look at a gigantic koi that’s likely to jump out of the tank and. . . touch. . .me at any moment? I just about barf every time we walk by the tank. The koi is well over 12 inches long. I’m shuddering just thinking of it.

My friend is a scientist and as such her friends by her kid all kind of sciency types of books. I’m an English major. I don’t often delve into the world of science books. If there’s not a princess what’s the point?

My friend knows about Erik’s love of numbers (last night he went to sleep while trying to figure out Santa’s secret phone number. To make it even funnier than it already was, he said all the numbers in English except seven. Seven is sju to him.) so she got him a couple of non-fiction books. One is about the biggest number, googol, and the other is about planet Earth. She also got him a crazy book that is basically one gigantic geometry story problem.

The kid loves them. Ate them right up. Wants more.

I guess it is time for me to delve into the murky waters of non-fiction and forget about rhyming ducks and knights in shining armor.

He is so excited about books that he is currently writing and illustrating a book that he intends to donate to the library. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled and give it a place of honor. Surprisingly, it seems to be a work of fiction. There doesn’t seem to be much math involved. I’ve been helping him spell words for it. The title you ask? Because you care oh-so-much about my special snowflake five year old. You don’t have enough special snowflakeness of your own. Title: The Rolling Burrito who Kept Rolling and Rolling Away.

I just can’t believe this kid is sitting here, drawing and writing. I never thought I would see that happen.

In other news, he’s getting a pet bird. Mike even bought him some bird seed. Now, he just has a couple of steps left in this bird acquisition: catch one and fashion a cage for it.

Long ago I heard about some crazy people who don’t believe they should ever tell their children no. I am not down with that philosophy at all and can’t even imagine what kind of adults will result from this method of child raising. However, I did take away a few things that have stuck with me. Sometimes you can say yes even when the answer is really no because there is no way the thing will happen anyway. Example: Erik begged me for a talking dog. I told him he could have one just as soon as he found one. There was no argument. There was a happy kid. And heck, if he manages to find a talking dog he can keep it!

So he decided yesterday he wanted a pet cardinal or blue jay and that he was going to catch one. At first I tried to tell him no, but then I remembered the “why say no when the answer can’t be yes” theory and put it to the test. I told him he was very welcome to have a pet bird if he could catch one and figure out a way to keep it.

He spent a goodly amount of time building a nest and filling it with bird seed. He made it “cozy and snuggly and perfect for a bird.” He is sure he will have a pet soon.

And me? I know it’s never going to happen. But no arguments! No sadness! No mean momminess! I am liking this plan.

I am breathing deep and hoping this doesn’t bite me in the butt. It just isn’t possible for a five year old to catch a bird. It’s not. Right? RIGHT?????