I am reader, hear me roar!

     Oh how I wish I could share with you how and when my love of books began. I wish I was good with remembering and keeping thoughts in some chronological order. I honestly have no idea. I know my love of books began in my home as a little girl and then it just got pushed aside for a while. Now it seems I can't get  enough of them. When I start a book, I can't put it down until it is finished. Then I am frustrated I have nothing to read. My husband and children can't remember taking a trip in which I didn't bring along a book.
     I hope that I am setting the same example of reading that my parents were to me.I hope that I have created an environment that is conducive to reading and writing in my home. I hope my children will continue to enjoy reading and writing as much as I do.

School Daze

     I have no recollection of anything specific after that. I read for assignments. I read for comprehension. I read because I had to. I do not remember reading Beowulf, Tale of Two Cities, Romeo and Juliet, and The Scarlet Letter for fun. I remember having a book bag full of books, but nothing I remember connecting to in any way. Looking back, I don't think I would consider myself a reader in middle school and high school.

First Grade

     I changed schools in first grade. I don't remember it being traumatic. I do remember liking my teacher. She had a caterpillar that we built around the room. Every time you read a book, she gave you a circle of paper. I wrote my name and the title of the book on the circles/segments. I learned in the first grade just how competitive I was. I counted my circles every day. I wanted to have the most. If someone got close to my number, that just made me read more. I guess this was not the stage in which I read for pleasure.

Kindergarten

     I entered a public kindergarten classroom fearing the unknown. I stood back trying to take it all in. My teacher approached me and welcomed me to school. She whispered that she heard I could already read. I wasn't sure if I should smile and admit it or lie and deny it. I decided that honesty was the best policy, so I smiled and said, "Yes maam." I did have my southern roots and values to uphold.
     I loved being in kindergarten. I loved learning new things and going home to share it with my siblings who were not in school yet. I would come home and read books to them. I didn't realize it until now, but I was a pretty good influence on their road to literacy.

Emerging Reader

     Imagine my excitement when I saw that one of my assignments for READ 3301 was to write a blog! I am a blogger, or was before school took over my life. The question is how did I become a reader? How did my literacy evolve? Right about now I am wishing my memory wasn't so fuzzy.
     I have fond memories of my mother reading me stories. I vividly remember her turning the pages, pointing to the words and showing me the pictures. I know I was very young, probably 18 months, when I was introduced to print. My father read to me as well, but he loved to tell stories and make them up as he went along. Both of my parents were readers and I saw them model that for me often. I continued to be read to as a child. As our family grew, I pretended to read to my younger brothers and sister. It wasn't long before I really was reading. I remember feeling like a circus act as my parents would "show off" my reading skills to friends and family. I am not sure if some of the reading I did at four years old wasn't just memorization because I had heard the books so many times. My parents were convinced I read at four, so who am I to argue?