#ReadingWithJolene - plans

When we sat down to read, I had it all planned out. We had an artist-themed selection of new books, as well as continuing our progress in Help, Thanks, Wow. I would stage some lovely reading shots, come away inspired by artists, and hope to instill in Jolene a love of art, either as an observer or a maker. It would be magical, and this post would inspire you, and we would all go about our days.

Instead, things did not go as planned, and I drew my inspiration not from the artists and writers, but from silly little Harold and his purple crayon. Why? Because his whole story is about making it up as you go along. Improvising. Drawing a hot air balloon to catch you when you start to fall. Starting with a simple, straight path but ending up having adventures instead. 

What could possibly go wrong, right? He's got a path!

Falling in thin air?! Thank goodness for those wits and that purple crayon.

We made it through Harold and the Purple Crayon without incident. And then I wanted Jolene to hear Mark Twain's cheeky Advice to Little Girls, which essentially advises girls against the expected order of things, and encourages mischief and a little sass. Much to my delight, Jolene seemed enthralled with this one.

But after that, she was done. Wanted nothing more to do with the little lamb mat, nothing to do with the books. She was fidgety, and tired, and I can't even remember anymore but probably a little hungry, as I suspect she is working through a growth spurt. And I, with my love of this new project and eagerness to tell you all about the good time we had, was annoyed. I wanted to sit there and lovingly flip through all our books. But she is a baby and pretty much calls the shots on what she needs at any given moment. So we had to think differently. Whip out the crayon and draw a new activity for the morning. 

The next day, we resumed with Artist to Artist: 23 Major Illustrators Talk to Children About Their Art, where I had bookmarked four artists I wanted to read from. We made it through almost three, I believe, before Jolene started getting fidgety, her tiny toes trying to flip the pages. I honestly worried about a paper cut. But at least we had time to learn from Alice Provensen, who turns out to have no use for a straight line like Harold's.

After that, I thought we'd at least have time to get through Neil Gaiman's Make Good Art speech, which has brightly colored pages and loads of inspiration. 

Nope.

I tried reading in our usual position on the floor. I tried reading with Jolene cradled in my left arm, my right hand holding the book. I tried lying her in her crib and reading to her over the edge. 

Nope.

Abandoned on the changing table.

My poor little reader was exhausted (probably from that growth spurt). I left her alone to nap, while I pondered the books we had gotten through. I had included Harold to have a kids' book represented, the Mark Twain for humor, and the other three for life lessons and books that I love. But Harold had the lesson all along.

I am a strange combination of someone who loves adventure and novelty, but also likes to have a plan. What that ends up looking like is a plan that changes constantly. A well thought-out, well-researched plan that I was totally set on last month might take a completely new direction next month. Now that I see that played out on a daily basis with Jolene (that schedule from yesterday? Yeah, we're changing it up today.), I realize how exhausting this lifestyle is. It's forced me to relax both elements - seeking out slightly less novelty, and making slightly less cemented plans. Having a general idea of what I want (I should say we want, since Kevin and I now make decisions based on our family of three) - but also keeping that purple crayon and my wits close at hand.

Plans change. It happens.

But it doesn't have to destroy us. It gives us the opportunity to draw a hot air balloon where there was only a boring straight line. It gives us the chance to discover our strength and explore who we really are and what we really want. And it gives us the peace to breathe when we realize we're falling into thin air. 

I hope Jolene will know this. I hope she'll seek out adventure and try new things, and that she'll be comfortable knowing that sometimes life has a plan of its own. Sometimes you'll get through all five books in one sitting, and sometimes you won't. Sometimes the path is a clear, straight line, and sometimes you'll have to walk in a zig-zag. Either way, the journey can still be beautiful, and there will always be time to read later.