My son has discovered the joy of books--the joy of diving into strange new worlds...it's not that he didn't have this experience before now; but more and more often these days, he's sitting down and immersing himself in a book by himself for several minutes. (He can spend forty-five minutes staring into his iPad as he plays a game, and the book-reading only lasts about seven minutes, max; but he's on the right track now, finally.)
His focus right now is limited--dinosaurs, monsters, ghosts and spooky creatures, knights and dragons, sea creatures, cats, dogs and farm animals...but whenever we go to the library, I grab at least a few books on other subjects, anything about which he has expressed an interest. Today my add-on books were about the Ohlone Indians, making paper airplanes, germs, and a book about knights in the Middle Ages. He picked out ten books on his own (another new development--just a few months ago I was selecting most of the books) so we have quite a nice stack of new reading material.
I feel both exhilarated and claustrophobic when I'm in a library...like the world is both opening up and closing in. After about thirty minutes I sometimes feel a desperate desire to leave. This occurred today...why? I don't really know...I love the world of words, but I love to escape from it as well.
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