The Problem with Paper

I've tried to instill a love of reading into Rachel. It worked because she loves books, sometimes to read, sometimes to eat. I think I may have tried a little too hard in this department though because she loves reading so much that I find it difficult to find time to read to myself.

I've heard that a lot of moms get reading done while they are nursing their babies. That is not the case for me. Rachel thinks that reading is more interesting than eating and this is what happens whenever she hears a page crinkle:

"I wasn't done with that page, mom!"

She's very much like a cat that comes to keep you company while you read the morning paper and just happens to choose the part you wanted to read as their throne. I don't typically read the morning paper, but I have lived with cats who made reading anything difficult.

I happen to enjoy reading while lying on my stomach with the book propped open in front of me. I can't tell you how many times I've had to dump cats off my books, be they textbook, novel, or picture books. They go after any type of paper.

Winter, one of our cats (well, my family's cat, anyway...Andrew and I don't have a cat. We have a baby) has gotten Josie in trouble with her paper-sitting habit. Josie wanted to go to a friend's house but no one was home to tell so she wrote a note explaining where she'd be. Then she looked for a place to put it where a big person would be sure to find it.

The fridge was cluttered with artwork and report cards and Josie didn't think anyone would notice an extra paper there so she continued her search. The counter had her homework spread all over it so she didn't think that was a great place, either.

She finally decided that she would leave the note on the entry way floor so that the first person to come home would have to step over the note, a fail-safe way for them to find it...

Well, I was the first person home but I didn't find the note. Josie was gone, though, so I panicked and started calling all of her friends. Eventually I found where she was and told her to come home right away.

"Why didn't you leave a note?" I demanded angrily.

"I did," she answered innocently.

"Where?" I asked.

She walked into the entry way and pointed.

"Right here!" she said, picking up the cat.

Sure enough directly under the spot the cat had been sitting was a piece of paper, covered in cat hair, with Josie's plans scrawled across it.

Rachel acts very much like the cats. She can spot a book or piece of paper from across the room and in a matter of minutes it will be in her grasp. And I know this will get us into trouble one day. Andrew will have to go to school with shredded, soggy paper and say, "My baby ate my homework."

We'll just have to continue to train her to treat books with respect. That's going to be a hard lesson for her to learn because she desperately wants to bite her books--even though we've never let her chomp on them before (probable because we've never let her, knowing her personality). The best is when she tries to grab (or bite) the pictures in the books. It's so cute.

In the mean time, I'll continue to meander around the room, my book just inches from Rachel's ever reaching hands. Who knows, maybe she'll learn to crawl this way.