Not for Boopsie. For me. And make it a muzzle for my brain.
In recent days she has been really interested in letters. She’ll point at letters on the covers of books and look at me, asking me to tell her what each one is. I’ll tell her the letter , the sound it makes and use it in a word. Then she’ll point to another.
Here’s the thing…. this THRILLS me. I can’t even explain how excited I get. And it’s everything I can do to not get waaaaay too into some sick daydream about getting her to read early. The not-so-healthy part of me wants to buy flashcards and make storyboards and start working to help her read. And then the more sane part of me kicks in and says “Stop this right now. Stop.” And (but for the grace of god or the universe or whatever) I do. I remember that she’s 18 months old, and I’m just happy she loves books. I can tell I’m going to have to work to keep my craziness reined in. Now and later.
We will read as many books as she wants. We will look at letters when she wants to. I will step away from the idea of the flashcards and stop obsessing about early literacy. She’ll be literate… in her own time.