My Baby, the Author

My six year old has learned to read this year in kindergarten, and she's really taken off with it.  But that said, you really need some background on the whole reading situation.  Caroline was very excited about her first day of kindergarten.  VERY excited.  So you can imagine my surprise when she came home that first afternoon and told me it was awful in response to my question about how the day had gone.  I was really confused and so I tried to figure out what had gone wrong.  When I asked, she put her hands on my hips and in complete disgust announced "I stayed there ALL DAY and they NEVER taught me how to read!!"  Yes, dear readers and loyal subjects, it's not just me that loves to read.

Well fast forward to 9 months later and my little one can read!  In fact, she has started writing her own book in a little journal and each night we read the "chapter" that she wrote earlier in the day.   Here she is writing tonight.  Isn't' that precious?!  It's like a mini-Queen!!!!  I'm so proud.

So far her book is about Eloise and a friend whose name she has apparently either forgotten or never known.  Oh and they both like princesses.  Go figure.  Ah the things six year olds think about.

Now then, the Queen has always been a closet writer.  Okay, I was a closet writer until I peeked OUT of the closet and started this blog.  Not the point though.  Growing up what I wanted to be was a writer!  Well, first I wanted to be a teacher... then an astronaut... but THEN I wanted to be a writer!  Unfortunately my mother, The Wicked Witch, wanted me to be a doctor.  So when I told her I wanted to major in English, she let me know her definitive thoughts about that.  They went something like, "I refuse to pay for you to major in unemployment.  You'll major in Biology instead."  And thus was born my Biology degree.  That said, I really was the only non-English major who worked as a tutor in the college Writing Center.  You should have seen the expressions of the English majors who came to me for help when they figured out they were getting advice from a science geek.  Some things are just priceless.

Anyway, Biology was the way things went for me, but last night my baby said the words I've been waiting to hear!  "I want to write books when I grow up."  I might have squealed... and offered her a pony... and told her she could dedicate her first published work to me, but maybe I just squealed.  Finally!  I have the chance to prove what I've known all along.  I am SO much cooler than my mother, AND I am willing to pay for my child major in English and become a writer!  Now, I'm just going to sit around for the rest of my life and pray that she's good at it and that I never hear her say the terrifying other statement that may come from this... "Would you like fries with that?"