Moments of Clarity

(Boofah engrossed in a favourite book, March 2007)

When I was growing up, I read to escape.

We lived in a rural area, half an hour's drive away from the nearest (small) town, and though I wasn't an only child, my next nearest sibling was still 7 years my senior and wanted little to do with an annoying little sister...no matter how devastatingly cute she was :P

A family friend, who used to visit us regularly, brought me books and continued to do so for ten years, several brand new titles with each trip. She was like my own personal Santa Claus. She dedicated the very first book she ever gave me - Enid Blyton's Anytime Tales - with "Dear Lizzie, may you always enjoy reading, 1986". And for the longest time, I worshipped the written word. I absolutely, 100% believed in the phrase "the pen is mightier than the sword". I was a bookworm, who eventually became a 'smart kid' - and therefore somewhat of a socially-deficient specimen in the eyes of my peers - but I didn't care. Somehow, the power of words intrigued me.

At the age of 8 and 9 I was picking up my sister's and brothers' high school English books and reading those. Of course, I quite often missed the point of the story, and the themes perhaps weren't that appropriate for an eight year old (*smile*) but from a technical point of view, I could handle them no problem at all. This pretty much confused the heck out of my parents, but it probably shouldn't have - after all, I learned to read sitting on my Dad's lap, reading the newspaper at the age of three.

Not surprisingly, English was always my best subject at school. I wanted to be a librarian for the longest time - my idea of utopia at the time.

And then something happened.

I left school. I didn't go to university. I tried to complete my final year of high school twice more - the last time with an 8mo old baby (Boofah) and a toddler (Master J) and failed miserably. I was in the midst of raising my family and being a homemaker and dabbled in other, less literary study because I felt I had to. No-one dared say anything, but I'm certain they all thought it at some point - what wasted talent! How does a straight A student fall off the rails so badly? I didn't regret having the kids so young - never did and never will - but I felt compelled to prove I still had a few active brain cells post-pregnancies and yearned for a creative outlet.

I found my current course by accident, and long story short, it is now three years down the track and though it has been tough as nails time-managing everything in amongst study, I can honestly say it was the best decision I have ever made solely for my own benefit. But...

...it is amazing that even studying WRITING, I have little time to read anymore. I deal with a constant cloud of assignment due dates hanging over my head and I'd be lying if I didn't say I felt like packing it in more than once during particularly hectic periods in our lives. I just wish I had the time to read more. Like actual pages-and-spines reading material :)

I have been blessed to have children for whom reading is just as much an integral part of their lives as say, breathing. Master J taught himself to sight-read at age 3 (quite an amazing feat considering he was completely non-verbal until age 2 ½), Boofah's giftedness means he reads three or four year levels above where his age suggests he should be, and Miss Moo seems to have discovered the magic of reading since starting school this year. I am insanely proud of this. It's like seeing part of yourself in each of your children, something you know will stand them in good stead throughout their lives and sustain their intellects and imagination.

We buy books for presents. We encourage them to buy books with their own spending money. We always suggest books to others as gifts for our family. Sometimes I just buy books for no special reason (not exactly the most frugal enterprise mind you!). As far as I'm concerned, a house can't have too many books, period. I would happily spend $15 on a new book that I know will appeal to the kids but I can't talk myself into $10 for a new shirt, LOL.

And then we catch one of the kids, happily curled up with a book, or reading aloud to a younger sibling, and we know, without a shadow of a doubt, that we're on the right track.

Cheers,
Lizzie