Getting your kids to read to each other

Sometimes my children are so wonderful, they read books to each other without me asking them to.

Sometimes my children are pretty wonderful and they read to each other when I ask them to.

And sometimes my children won't read to each other without serious harassment and threats of other jobs.

Hmm. I don't like threatening when reading is involved (though I am perfectly happy threatening them about other things like chores—I'm especially good about threatening with treats and not following through with my threats. Like giving them treats anyway, even when they haven't done everything as I asked them too. I am consistently inconsistent in this regard... which makes me pretty wonderful too, I suppose).

So the solution to this problem—when they won't read to each other—would just be to not make them read to each other.

But I love it when they read to each other. I love it. They love it. Really. Most of the time. Once they get going.

So sometimes I pay them.

This is probably illegal in some states. I mean, you shouldn't have to pay your children to do a service like that, right? And if you pay them for reading to each other sometimes, will they ever read to each other without getting money?

I do not know the answers to those questions, they are too deep for me, but I've discovered that I am willing to pay my children to do things I think are really, really good for them. Consequences, shmonsequences.

The other day I asked Shaemus (who really needed to do some reading aloud—always worried that kid isn't reading enough) to read aloud to Flannery (who could always use some more read aloud time and will take it from anyone, anytime, anyplace). Sometimes he will do it for fun, but he was in the middle of building himself a rocket ship out of cardboard (something I highly approve of) and didn't want to be interrupted. I knew he would go back to the rocket ship the second he was done, so I wasn't worrying about interrupting his creativity, and Flannery really needed some attention I couldn't give her.

"Two dollars," I told Shaemus. "If you read Flannery fifteen books of your choice (not baby books), you can have two dollars."

And this was the result:
http://youtu.be/QZbqZPGorEQ

Please excuse the quality of this video. I was trying to be sneaky. I didn't want them to know what I was doing, and they didn't until Shaemus's head turned. If you can make it that far in the video, notice when I finally focus in on Flannery's face, how fascinated she is by the story. She doesn't care how imperfectly Shaemus is reading. She is so involved, she can't even suck her finger properly (we're working on that finger sucking—just in case your worried...). And they sat like that, close together, snuggling, reading books, having a great time and not fighting a bit, for well over an hour.

Two dollars well-spent.

(And I will gladly pay for therapy if they have issues later in life.)

My Love Follows You Where You Go

There's a song I can't stop listening to right now. I listen to it every chance I get, and every time I do, I cry. So I listen to it again so I can cry some more.

This world seems like an overwhelming place. There's war, pollution, political turmoil, disease, flu, insurance, job insecurities, national insecurities, moral decay, sex abusers, cyber hackers, disabilities, and on and on.

It's easy for me to fret daily over our budget and what our family gets involved in and what we don't. It's easy for me to stress about paying taxes and keeping up the yard and doing enough to help our church and community. If life is hard now, what's it going to be like for our children in just five years, fifteen, twenty?

These fears are so real to me, and I think that's why I love this song, My Love Follows You Where You Go by Alison Krauss.

(Here's a link to a clip of the song:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B004V7FW9W/ref=dm_mu_dp_trk5 )

My oldest is now twelve, going on thirteen. She will be considered an adult in less than six years. Will I have given her what she needs to survive in just six short years? The strength and courage she needs to push her way through what sometimes seems a dreary world? Right now, she is sick, or she's claiming she is sick, I honestly can't tell—I'm a little skeptical because she seems to have no real symptoms, and other kids have had the stomach flu and I'm afraid she just wants some attention. Some love. She's been begging me to read to her all morning, and I really don't have time. Yet, I'm sitting here, writing this post instead of reading to her, which, sick or not, is what she wants right now to feel my love.

Here are the lyrics to this song about a parent saying goodbye to their growing up child:

More wishes than a thousand hearts can count for you
More smiles than a merry-go-round
The sweetest ending to a bed-time story told
My love follows you where you go

More laughter than a kindergarten out to play
One Sunday morning song that says it all
More summer than a California beach can hold
My love follows you where you go

Future like a promise, you're a city of Gold
Stubborn in your bones and Jesus in your soul
Seeing you stand there, staring at the unknown
I won't pretend that it's not killing me
Watching you walk away slow

Take forgiveness, take a prayer, take the deepest breath
Take the answers in your heart
When you wake up and the world is cruel and cold
My love follows you where you go

Future like a promise, you're a city of Gold
Stubborn in your bones and Jesus in your soul
Seeing you stand there, staring at the unknown
I won't pretend that it's not killing me
Watching you walk away slow

More freedom than a field of flowers in the wind
More beauty than a morning after rain
Up the steepest hill, a dark and crooked road
My love follows you where you go

Future like a promise, you're a city of Gold
Stubborn in your bones and Jesus in your soul
Seeing you stand there, staring at the unknown
I won't pretend that it's not killing me
Watching you walk away slow

One day I will watch her walk away from me, hopefully slowly. Hopefully she won't be running. The walking away won't be forever, but there will be a change. Her future is a promise. She does have a city of Gold ahead if she'll take it. She is stubborn, and I pray with all my heart that Jesus will be deep within her soul. She will most definitely be staring at the unknown, and it will be killing me to watch her go.

Will she know that my love follows her?

In the first stanza is one of the only answers I can give her. "The sweetest ending to a bed-time story told." So much of my time spent with my kids is cajoling, nagging, pushing time. This is important. They need to be cajoled, nagged, and pushed, but reading to my kids should be a time of none of that. It should be a time of love and nothing but love, a shared love, a breath, a blink, the tiniest fraction of time where our souls are united around a good book. That love, I hope, will follow her always.

So I have to stop blogging now and get to it. I have to go read to my twelve-year old so that she knows my love truly follows her wherever she goes.