"One more chapter"

 

 

There sits the stack of books we're currently reading.  Not one.  Not two.  Not three.  Oh no.  We read a chapter or more out of four to six different books per day.

 

Yes, I read to him in utero.  Yes, I began reading to him the moment he arrived.  But never in my wildest imagination did I think he'd have such a passion for books.

 

No one would believe us when we'd mention our baby would sit, contentedly on our lap while we'd read to him for an hour to an hour and a half nightly.  I'd usually begin.  Then either my husband or my mother would take over.  And I'd finish the reading off.   By age 10 months he'd begun asking for more. 

 

"Another please mama", he'd request.   

 

He always asks for more.  He's always disappointed we get tired.  He's not tired.  His brain is hungry for more. 

 

We feed it. 

 

"One more chapter?...Maybe just a page or two more?" 

 

Henry's been asking for more chapters since age 2, when he asked us kindly to "stop reading baby books" to him.  We still read picture books.  But only if chapter books are sprinkled in the mix of reading time.

 

Reading aloud is important for any child.  Reading aloud for our aspie son, is essential.  His reading comprehension is far above his ability level. 

 

When we read, he's able to lose himself in the story.  He takes it all in.  He memorizes chapters.  Authors.  Characters.  Each and every detail is captured.

 

And then he draws.

 

 

For Hours. 

 

 

Even obscure characters he hasn't seen before come out on the paper.

 

 

 

It all began one day out at a local sandwich shop.  My husband and I sat across from one another at a small two-seater table.  An 18 month old Henry sat to our side.  The restaurant was extremely crowded that particular late afternoon. 

 

When our young waitress seated us she brought with her paper and a couple of large crayons.  My husband and I kind of shrugged and chuckled.  Henry had shown zero interest in crayons at home.  He'd already developed a love of black pens. 

 

While Michael (my husband) and I sat there chatting, we noticed the quiet.  Not from the other patrons.  Mind you it's noisy in this particular joint we go to, even when they aren't busy.  The quiet came from our son.

 

We looked over.  He was busy adding lines under a large yellow circle. 

 

Daddy said, "What a nice drawing Henry!"

 

"What are you drawing Henry?" I inquired.

 

"Scaycrow" he stated it quite clearly, without looking up, without shifting his focus from the paper.

 

At the time Henry was *obsessed* with "Scaycrows" (scarecrows).  He saw scarecrows on every drive we took in the car.  Even mini scarecrows caught his eye. 

 

We read nothing else but scarecrow books.  At the time, I could recite his favorite scarecrow book. 

 

We've gone from crosses, to scarecrows, Oz, Alice, Narnia, dolls, snails, lifecycles....

 

The interests hit strong. 

 

We feed them.