Linnaea really likes the superhero persona – she is, after all, the Rescuer. So it should come as no surprise that the character Word Girl is one of her favorites. Trip even likes it too, and is quick to resound the battle cry: “Word up!” (Though I must confess,as cute as that is, hearing my two-year old state “I have a hypothesis” brings a tear to my eye.) Part of Linnaea’s attraction to superheros is that they are helpers, and Linnaea loves to help those in need. She takes care of us when we’re upset, she sings to her siblings when they’re crying, she genuinely wants things to be good for everyone. She always speaks of how when she’s a grown-up she will do whatever it is she currently doesn’t have the power to accomplish that will improve someone else’s situation – such as build lots of libraries, or build me a house close to work. I love her so much.
But the dark side of her fascination is that she is afraid. It really breaks my heart at how scared she is of various things and how she tries so hard to steel herself and be brave. And there is something inherent about donning a cape that empowers one against all manner of evil things – like barking dogs, and getting shots, and car washes. But her most paralyzing fear – is that of being wrong. And looking back, it was evident before she even turned one. She started walking just before her first birthday. She was ready before then, just too scared to let go. Tekla will be running within the next couple of weeks if she can convince her muscles to strengthen up faster. And so I think Linnaea doesn’t read yet because there are so many possible ways to fail. Do, or do not. There is no try. Linnaea’s jedi wisdom is perhaps misapplied.
Confession of guilty parents: we haven’t really been working with her very much on reading. We’re still trying to figure out how to feed and clothe a household of five plus pets. Linnaea has been making wonderful strides without us, however. She writes stuff: menus, letters, signs, decorations, etc. And will spell the words out phonetically herself. Sometimes she asks for a little help, like what letter makes the wuh-sound? And if you know her style, and lettering peculiarities, it’s legible.  I think we owe much to Leap Frog’s Tag Reader. It is an excellent system with real books and tasks of layered difficulty. The books can be read pages at a time, or word by word, which is often the case these days. According to her performance with the system, most of her written language skills are at a first grade level. But as far as we know, if we were to sit down with her and a book, and ask her to read it to us, she would get frustrated/anxious after the fourth or fifth word she had to sound out and would quit and want us to finish for her.
Last night when she came over to say goodnight to Mater, Linnaea asked “Why does it say ‘over’?” Bwah? She pointed to the corner of a piece of paper, poking out from a pile on the desk, a corner adorned with the parenthetical (over). Last week, while playing Wii Fit, the in-game balance board character mentioned that it was Trip’s birthday (in the middle of a paragraph of text). Linnaea always skips through the pages of text, that’s not the matter she’s interested in when she plays those games. The message was on the screen about a half-second, it seemed. She turns to me, “Why does it know it’s Trip’s birthday?” So the kid can read. I’m not sure the extent. I’m not sure she knows. But it is in there. Now we just have to suss it out.
For a while, I had a Zelda game in my DS that I was playing, and then would let Linnaea play. She liked it. Now I’m playing a more traditional role-playing game with lots and lots of text – dialogue and menus. She can watch, but she doesn’t get to play it, because it requires a lot of reading. “The game is going to teach me to read,” she tells me emphatically, excited for a crack at playing. No, little girl, you are teaching yourself to read. Now let’s talk about how Marvel superheros are superior to those generally offered from DC…