Bloggers are Real People

It’s Thursday and I’m Crafting my Life! March’s theme is blogging. Last week I talked about blogging your dreams. This week, I’m talking about the literal community of bloggers.

I like to wax poetic about online community and how supportive it can be, and it is. But as much as we talk about the virtual support, it can sometimes be hard to remember that there are real, live people on the other side of the screen. Or, I suppose, somewhere in front of another computer that is connected to yours through a series of tubes.

The people reading your words and maybe (or maybe not) sharing their own have their own lives going on. They bring their own experiences and biases and current moods with them when they read your blog. I re-learn that regularly, as commenters interpret my words much differently than the way I meant them to be understood. This is fine, really. I receive some of my best insights when the conversation veers in a direction I never would have expected. I have learned not to take my posts too personally, and I’m giving up the need to be clearly understood at all times. Blogging is a fluid thing, and while this virtual space is primarily mine I do not need to control every word that appears here.

You learn lessons like that through blogging, many lessons. I have learned that the best way to get better at writing is to just do it, and do it a lot. I have learned that I don’t really enjoy personal conflict, and I prefer to address people’s questions or comments one-on-one through email. Long debate threads are fun to read, but hosting them makes me sort of nervous. I suppose I have learned that I get far more of a thrill from positive feedback than is maybe strictly healthy. Through these lessons you can figure out what works best for you, and tailor your online experience accordingly.

Blogs are still a relatively new platform, and they are fundamentally individual. What I do, and the way I blog, works for me. It might not work for you. I post photos of my kids and use their real names. My last name is embedded in my blog title. I post 6 days a week, even on days when I have other posts appearing elsewhere. I use Twitter prolifically, and comment on other blogs a lot. I try to keep my posts under the 700 word mark, and rarely or never go about 1000 words. But I admire other bloggers who do none of those things. This is about finding your own way, there’s no single right way to blog.

Bloggers are real people, just as our readers are real people. We have strengths and weaknesses and weird idiosyncrasies. The best way to learn that is to get together with a bunch of them, like I did last weekend. Vancouver-area Twitter mamas (and papas) met up for brunch. There were babies, toddlers and awkward greetings when you feel you know someone you’ve never actually met. There were comfortable conversations and jokes and note sharing from people who understood what it’s like to be a blogger. But mostly, it was just a bunch of women getting together for a social outing. The little ones who came along were remarkably well-behaved, and 4 of us who came without kids hung out for over an hour after everyone else left reveling in our freedom.

I have to thank the amazingly real Nicole for organizing the meet-up, and my also real friend and fellow suburbanite Carrie for sharing the car ride and helping me get back in one piece. I was delighted to see Michelle, Crunchy Carpets and Left Coast Mama again. I was thrilled to meet, in person, Alexis, Janet, Stephanie, Marilyn and Harriet, who gave me a hug right away. Harriet is very real. And I was perhaps most thrilled to meet Scattered Mom, who baked us all cookies and packaged them in lovely little bags.

The people who attended that brunch all have their own approaches online. Our sites have different content and platforms and audiences. But I’m willing to bet you that none of us enjoys receiving negative comments, or maybe even worse, no comments. None of us likes feeling like the odd one out or the low man on the blogging totem pole. We all value the community we’ve found through blogging, and through befriending other bloggers in real life. There are commonalities, even in the middle of the differences, just like anywhere else in life. We are all people underneath it all.

So tell me, have you learned things about yourself through blogging, and cultivated your own blogging style? And have you met other bloggers or Twitter users in real life? How does getting together with other bloggers change your perspective on blogging? I’d love to hear!

March’s Crafting my Life series is about the whys and hows of blogging, and what blogging means to pursuing your dreams. On the last Thursday of the month, which just happens to be the 25th, I will include a link up. To participate, write a post on this month’s theme anytime in March, or track down a post you’ve written on the subject sometime in the past, and add yourself to the list. Then read everyone else’s ideas and thoughts and be inspired! Check out the link-ups from January and February to get a feel for how it works.

My Shampoo-Free Experiment

Have you heard about no poo? In spite of the slightly unfortunate-sounding name, it has nothing to do with your bathroom habits. It’s short for ‘no SHAMpoo’, and it’s about ditching traditional hair cleaning products in favour of more natural choices. No poo’s following is growing, and people choose it for a variety of reasons.

Some people don’t like the idea of using chemical-laden personal care products. Modern shampoos typically contain artificial colours and fragrances, and a variety of ingredients that haven’t been specifically tested for long-term toxicity or carcinogenic effects. Shampoo and conditioner usually come in plastic bottles, and there are problems with recycling plastic. And some people find that their hair is healthier and more manageable when they don’t use shampoo.

Prior to going shampoo-free

I decided to try going shampoo-free myself. I attempted it once before, but I didn’t really commit and I didn’t really follow the recommended procedure. After a few days I gave up. This time I committed to two weeks shampoo-free, and I tracked down the suggested apple cider vinegar in a glass bottle. I like the idea of reducing my plastic consumption, as well as my exposure to chemicals. I was also hoping that ditching shampoo would somehow net me miraculous hair results.

Day 2 shampoo-free

Another shot of day 2 shampoo-free

I am washing my hair using baking soda, and rinsing it in an apple cider vinegar solution. What I do is wet my hair, and then mix 1-2 tsp baking soda with a little water to make a paste. I spread it through my hair, starting at my scalp, and then rinse. I have re-purposed an old 8-ounce shampoo bottle for the apple cider vinegar. I put in about 2-3 tablespoons of the vinegar, filled the rest of the bottle with water, and added a few drops of essential oils to make it smell not so vinegar-y. I squirt a few tablespoons of this solution on my hair and then rinse it out.

Day 4 shampoo-free

It’s been two weeks now, what’s the verdict? I would say my feelings are mixed. My hair feels very much like it did when I was a kid – it’s softer than it was, but also very thin and fine. And I have not achieved the results that some people report, where they can go days without washing their hair. I have tried skipping a day, and I end up having to keep my hair in a ponytail when I do that, because it gets greasy. I have oily hair in the first place, and giving up shampoo hasn’t eliminated that.

Day 10 shampoo-free

Day 10 shampoo-free from the front

Having said that, the results aren’t awful. I asked my husband if my hair looked different and he appeared befuddled and confused. No one else has said anything, either. My feeling is that for the most part, any differences I’m seeing are undetectable to others. I think that I will keep up the shampoo-free experiment for now, and since I am showering every day anyway, if I have to wash my hair it’s not exactly a huge inconvenience.

What about you? Have you tried no poo? Any tips, tricks or disaster stories? Please share!

International Women’s Day, One Day Late

This is one day late, but I wanted to share it. Yesterday was International Women’s Day, and I spent the day reflecting on my experience as a woman, and the challenges that I feel women (and men) in our society still face.

I was born in the mid 70s, to hippies who rejected the cultural mainstream. My father wore long hair and a long beard, and worked as a self-trained goldsmith. He made jewelry in the back of our house and sold it out of a room in the front. My mother left her job at a bank to stay home when I was born. In my house the adults chopped wood for heat and held meditation circles, and until I was almost 9 years old nobody held a ‘real’ job.

My parents wanted my sister and me to believe we could be anything we wanted to be. In the late 70s and early 80s it was a popular message, and a lot of TV shows reinforced the idea. There was a common storyline that went like this: a hapless man is looking for ‘Dr. Pat Smith’, only to discover that the woman he assumed was the receptionist is actually the good doctor. Hilarity ensues. We learned not to judge a book by its cover, and that women could be doctors just as well as nurses.

I believed it. It never occurred to me that I couldn’t do something based solely on my gender. I think most of us got the message, because you don’t see Dr. Pat Smith on TV anymore. She’s no longer considered noteworthy, although I am tremendously grateful for her example.

In high school I did just as well in math and science as English and French. After high school I attended engineering school, where I was surprised to find that women made up only 20% of the students in my classes. I never felt singled out or discriminated against, but it is hard not to notice when the gender numbers are overwhelmingly skewed against you.

I worked as an engineer, in a male-dominated environment, for 5 years before my daughter was born. I was treated with the same respect as my male colleagues, and I generally liked my job. The work environment was comfortable and I was paid well. We had team-building activities and treats on Wednesdays and flex time. My co-workers’ offices were filled with math textbooks and photos of their children, and there were company-wide policies ensuring that all employees were treated fairly.

Things changed a bit once I was pregnant. People joked that I was leaving them to have a baby. I didn’t laugh. I wondered why my decision to procreate implied that I was abandoning my post, but my male colleagues’ similar decisions did not. I wondered why I was asked if I had to work, and my husband was not.

I used all of the year-long maternity leave available to me. When I returned to work I negotiated a part-time schedule, in an attempt to find some kind of balance. I understood that working less and telecommuting would affect my career trajectory, at least for a time. I was willing to sacrifice some of my professional advancement, though – kids grow quickly and I didn’t want to miss it.

Still, questions nagged at the back of my mind. Why was I naturally the one who worked less (and now only sporadically) once the babies came? Would I be able to recover from my time on the mommy track? How come it was so hard to find quality childcare? And why don’t more fathers take advantage of flexible work policies or parental leave?

Over my lifetime Dr. Pat Smith and I have seen gender roles shift. Pretty much any career path is open to a woman if she chooses to pursue it. In my home housework is evenly distributed, and my husband does nearly all of my laundry. We do our best to approach parenting with gender neutrality. I don’t feel that the balance of power swings one way or the other.

And yet the glass ceiling still exists, especially for mothers. While parental leave is available to most fathers in Canada, only 11% of them use it. It’s still uncommon to for men to work alternative schedules to care for children. Working mothers still sometimes hear statements like, “Why even have kids if you’re not going to raise them?” Women bear the brunt of child-rearing, and face most of the conflict over balancing career and family.

I wish that everyone had better access to family-friendly work policies, and that there wasn’t a stigma for using them. I suspect many men feel the same way. There are dads who would enjoy being at-home parents, or taking one day a week off to volunteer in their kid’s classroom. Our current system does not exactly work perfectly for anyone.

On International Women’s Day I am so grateful for my feminist foremothers, who fought so that I could be an engineer and have access to birth control and maternity leave and daycare. I am grateful to live in a country where my rights are recognized and my standard of living is not significantly diminished because of my gender. But I am reflecting on the work there is still to do. I am considering how I can contribute to creating a world that is more equitable for everyone, which better celebrates diversity and variety in life paths and choices. That is the world that I hope my children and grandchildren will inherit.

Play Dough Disaster and Redemption

My kids love play dough. Because, you know, they’re children. I keep thinking that I should make some of my own for them to play with. A quick visit to Google will provide you with several dozen recipes to choose from. And yet I have only attempted it once in 5 years of parenting. That single attempt left me feeling somewhat reluctant to try it again.

When I was growing up we referred to salt dough, that very salty substance that you make into shapes which are then baked and painted, as ‘homemade play dough’. Call it a regional quirk, I’m not really sure why. Anyways, my friend Kirsten and I had this brilliant idea to make homemade Christmas ornaments with our daughter’s hand prints. The girls were around 19 months old or so, and we were going to roll out flat circles in red and green and press the children’s chubby little hands into the dough to make an impression, that once dry could be proudly hung on a relative’s tree. Easy, right?

Um, not so easy, as it turns out. Like I said, until that fateful day I had never heard the term salt dough, so I set off on the internet and found a recipe for ‘homemade play dough’. One of the key ingredients was cream of tartar, which is a leavening agent. Oops. So Kirsten and I rolled out all of these little circles of dough and wrestled our toddlers to get 10 hand prints each. Not. Easy. When we put these ornaments into the oven, the cream of tartar worked its magic and they bubbled and rose and were completely destroyed. Trauma, sadness, the last time I ever attempted to make play dough again.

So, when the lovely Carmen from Eden Home contacted me and offered me some free organic play dough to review on this blog, I was really quite happy. Because it saved me from some of my guilt over never getting around to re-trying homemade dough of my own.

Max’s Mud organic play dough

The play dough is gluten free, vegan, non-toxic, fragrance-free, soy-free and corn-free. And maybe other things-free, too, I’m not sure I remembered everything. Its main ingredient is organic rice flour, and it comes in many colours. Your children will mix these colours together and if you are anything like me, it will make you more than a little neurotic. But try to remember, they are children, and the point is to play, not to keep the play dough pristine. Although it would be a better world if it were kept pristine, wouldn’t it?

Pretty colours, still pristine in their tubs

I loosed my children on the play dough, because honestly, my opinion matter just doesn’t matter here.

I asked my 5-year-old Hannah what she thought, and she seemed to think that it was just like other play dough. She did say that it doesn’t smell as good as other play dough, although it smells fine to me. It just doesn’t have any fragrances in it. It was the same as any other dough I’ve tried in terms of consistency. When my kids left it out, it also dried out the same as other doughs. It’s basically the same stuff, but less scary.

The biggest downside I can see to the organic play dough, aside from the cost that is understandably higher, is that it still comes in plastic tubs. The tubs are a little bit better than the traditional ones, because they are much easier to open and close. They are like small margarine tubs, so you could re-purpose them for other uses. Although the most ecologically-friendly choice would still have to be making your own, and one day I may just try it again myself.

So, please tell me your crafting with children disaster stories or tips. Have you attempted ornaments that didn’t turn out? Or are you a homemade play dough star with perfect results every time? I would love to hear all about it!

PS – The Green Moms Carnival is up today, and it is all about Environmental Toxins and Cancer. Read my post about the toxins found in breastmilk, and then drop by Nature Moms to see what everyone else had to say.

Maternity Leave in Maple Ridge

Guess what! I have my first public appearance. I can’t even begin to tell you how excited this makes me. I am going to speaking about my passion, maternity leave, at the fabulous maternity and baby boutique Tiny Fingers Tiny Toes in Maple Ridge, BC. I love talking about maternity leave. In fact, if you ask my husband he might tell you I never stop talking about maternity leave, so I am thrilled to have the chance to share my pearls of wisdom with others. I promise, they will be pearly. Ish.

If you are in the area, I would love to see you. Here are all the pertinent details:

Date – Saturday, March 20, 2010
Time – 10:30am
Cost – $10 per person
Location – 11997 A 224th Street, Maple Ridge (street parking only)

To register, call the store at 604-466-8637. Space is limited, so call early and all that jazz. My talk will include an overview of how maternity leave works in Canada, a rundown of its history, and some discussion of the benefits parents and babies experience when they have access to quality leave. I will also address any questions that come up as best I can and coo over babies and / or expectant moms who show up. But that’s not all! Attendees also receive $10 in store credit to Tiny Fingers Tiny Toes, so when the presentation is over they can go shopping for some truly fabulous maternity and baby gear. Is there a downside? I don’t think so!

Stacy, the owner of the boutique, is a friend of mine and fellow breastfeeding advocate. She is an example to me of the kind of mama I would like to be – volunteering, running a business, raising a lovely family, supporting new families. It means so much to me that she asked me to give this talk. I am pretty much tickled all over, and my ego is growing to monumental proportions. So, hopefully, there will be room for it in the store.

Now, please wish me luck! And share words of wisdom if you have ever done anything like this before. Or, if you are a local come on out and say hi – I would love to see some friendly faces.

You Can’t Shovel What Isn’t There

My toddler Jacob loves anything that comes with a stick attached to it, including plain old sticks themselves. Because he is a toddler and they are sticks – I think it’s a pretty universal trait, isn’t it? This love of extends to objects like brooms, mops and shovels.

Unfortunately, the love of stick-like objects isn’t always convenient. Jacob has taken a particular shine to our snow shovel, which lives right inside the entrance to our garage. You know, for easy access in case of snow. However, easy access for me also means easy access for my kid.

Ironically, there isn’t even any actual snow to shovel. Vancouver has had an unusually mild winter, and as we like to point out you don’t have to shovel rain. I have explained this to Jacob, but he remains unconvinced. He resolutely shovels our bare driveway every chance he gets.

I should probably just move the snow shovel. But a part of me is convinced that having snow removal equipment ready is preventing the snow from falling. As soon as I let my guard down and store the salt and the shovel, we’ll get 6 inches of the white stuff and all my neighbours will glare at me as they shovel their own driveways. And so every time I open the garage I get to wrestle Jacob away from the snow shovel.

He’s just lucky he’s cute, this little shoveling man of mine. Because honestly, taking 5 minutes out of every trip to fight with a toddler bent on shoveling isn’t fun. I am totally lame that way. Also, conventional and stubborn in my refusal to think outside the box. Jacob isn’t so conventional, and he has the pirate hat to prove it.

(OK, the pirate photo isn’t really on topic, but I couldn’t resist it.)

What objects has your toddlers taken a shine to, good or bad? Share your stories of kid cuteness or exasperation, that I may know I am not the only one whose kid shovels snow that isn’t there.

Blogging Your Dreams

It’s Thursday and I’m Crafting my Life! March’s theme is blogging. This week, I’m talking about blogging your dreams, and why that can be a really great thing.

My husband Jon started this blog in May, 2003, which means that it’s pretty old as far as blogs go. I have posted regularly here for over 6 1/2 years, now, but it took me a long time to figure blogging out. In fact, I didn’t like the idea of a blog when Jon first set it up. I made him create a landing page that had links, including one to ‘Amber’s Thoughts’ or something like that. I declared he should not use the word blog, because what was a blog anyway, and why would I want one?

For years, I kept up this blog and visited others, but rarely commented. I have some social anxiety, and I was convinced that somehow I would say the wrong thing in someone’s comment section and suffer abject humiliation. I was also afraid that people would follow me back to my own blog, not like what they saw, and more abject humiliation would result. When I decided to start extending myself more, I would leave a comment for someone and then go hide in my bedroom. Because, you know, if I stayed in front of my computer they could see me or something.

Once I got over my fears and started reaching out beyond my own thoughts I discovered something amazing – a fabulously supportive online community. The truth is that there are countless blogs out there. If someone doesn’t like mine, or yours (although who wouldn’t, we’re both lovely), they will just move on. Similarly, if I come across a blog that doesn’t really speak to me, I will just move on, too. But a lot of the time, when I find someone that I think is great they think I’m not too bad, myself. In our words we recognize commonality, and it is really a fabulous gift.

The true value of this gift came to me full force when I lost my job almost a year ago. I went into a bit of a tailspin, trying to figure out what to do next. Getting laid off forces some soul-searching, because you can’t really just continue in the well-laid and secure path you have set out for yourself. You need to, at minimum, look for another well-laid and secure path. Or, some of us decide to scrap our well-laid and secure paths, and embark on a journey to craft our lives into something new.

Anyways, when my life was all up in the air and I felt discouraged and unsure, I had this space. I shared a lot of my fears and dreams with you. It was scary, I’ll admit it. Putting yourself out there like that can leave you feeling pretty vulnerable. The last thing in the world that you want to hear is that someone thinks your dreams are silly or that your fears are justified and you probably do suck. But I didn’t hear that. I heard lots and lots of positive feedback, and encouragement, and support. I heard that I was not alone, and that other people had the same thoughts and fears. I even heard that some people had fulfilled their own dreams.

Not everyone feels as comfortable as I do sharing their thoughts with the internet at large. And not everyone has to – blogging is hardly a pre-requisite to a life well-lived. But I personally wish that I had figured out how the blogging community works much sooner than I did. My life is much the richer for it.

How about you? Has blogging about your dreams helped you? Have you found a supportive community online? Please share!

March’s Crafting my Life series is about the whys and hows of blogging, and what blogging means to pursuing your dreams. On the last Thursday of the month, which just happens to be the 25th, I will include a link up. To participate, write a post on this month’s theme anytime in March, or track down a post you’ve written on the subject sometime in the past, and add yourself to the list. Then read everyone else’s ideas and thoughts and be inspired! Check out the link-ups from January and February to get a feel for how it works.

Extinguishing the Flame

On Sunday my 5-year-old Hannah and I attended the Closing Ceremonies of the Vancouver 2010 Winter Games. To get the tickets, I entered into the Canadian ticket lottery last year. You could request tickets to events, and back-up events, too. They tabulated all of the requests, and when demand exceeded supply, they used a random drawing. I requested tickets to the Opening Ceremonies and short track speed skating. My back-up events were the Closing Ceremonies and another short track speed skating event.

I chose short-track because my husband Jon was working at that venue. The speed skating events were short, so they seemed like a good choice for kids, and I assumed there wouldn’t be much demand for them. I was wrong – short track tickets were the 3rd most requested after men’s hockey and the Opening Ceremonies, and I didn’t luck out. But the Closing Ceremonies were a pretty amazing score, even in the nosebleed seats that I could barely afford.

I decided to take my daughter Hannah because Jon was sort of Olympic-ed out by the time the Games ended, and he wanted a chance to stay home. So Jon and 18-month-old Jacob got some quality time together and Hannah and I headed out on our own.

Hannah and I waiting for the SkyTrain

As it happens, we left the house about 3 minutes after the Canadian men’s hockey team won Olympic Gold. This was huge, I’m not sure that I can even say how huge it was. On our train ride downtown more revelers got on at every stop. I quickly picked up on the rule that when someone boards the SkyTrain decked out in a Canadian flag, or like a Canadian flag, or wearing a Team Canada sweater, everyone on the train has to cheer and clap and yell things like, “Gold, baby! YEAH!” That train was filled to bursting with national pride, so much that we spontaneously broke out into ‘O Canada’ at one point.

Our destination, BC Place, is right next door to General Motors Canada Hockey Place, where the gold medal game took place, and they share a SkyTrain station. When we got off there were big crowds milling around, cheering and carrying on and generally celebrating the win. It was fairly good-natured, and at just 4pm I don’t think anyone was too drunk (yet). I high-fived several strangers on my walk to BC Place. How could you not?

Canadian hockey fans high-fiving passersby after the gold medal win

The trip to the stadium was smoother than I expected. We got through security no problem, and there was a bit of a back-up waiting to get up to the main entrance, but it wasn’t awful. Luckily, Hannah was pretty patient and good-natured about the whole thing.

Hannah was very good-natured about all the walking and waiting

Waiting in the crowd outside BC Place

We made it to our seats with time to spare. We all received audience participation kits, which contained various props to help with the show. There were snazzy ponchos so that they could project images on to us, moose antlers, snow globes and big coloured paper cards. For the hour before the ceremony started there was a pre-ceremony show with periodic interruptions so that we could practice our roles. And then during the show there were audience leaders in the stands showing us what to do.

My audience participation kit, made just for me

It was pretty cool to be there, I must say. I didn’t get emotional as I expected I would, partly because Hannah kept interrupting the action to share a choice tidbit about her friend at school or complain about the noise level. She’s 5, it’s what she does. And then she sobbed for 7 minutes straight when they extinguished the flame, and that was no fun. But on the whole she enjoyed herself immensely, and I was glad to have her with me. I hope that it turns into a great memory that lasts her a long time.

The ceremonies begin

Being in the middle of the Olympics was a pretty surreal experience. I’m really glad I got to have it, because I won’t get another shot in my lifetime. Plus, now I have a snazzy poncho to wear around the house. What’s not to love about that?

Modeling the cool new wardrobe options that came in my audience participation kit

What I Learned in February 2010

Monthly reviews are my favourite tradition. Here’s how it works – every month I come up with some things I learned. Then, I ask you all to join in with some recent revelations of your own. And we all learn and grow and what-not. Or at least share a laugh at our own expense, because some of these lessons are both hard-fought and funny. Sound good?

So, without further ado, here are some things that I learned in February.

Things I learned in February

1. I discovered what it’s like to have an 18-month-old and a 5-year-old. The verdict? Sort of crazy, but in the best possible way.

2. I learned that walks to nowhere are sometimes the best kind.

3. I found out the hard way that you should always schedule your pet’s veterinary appointments for a time when you won’t have to bring your children along.

4. I discovered, once again, that sprinkles really do make any cake better.

5. I found some peace and redemption when one of the articles that I submitted was declined. Here’s the thing – your work can be good, even if it isn’t the right fit for one particular venue. And no one else thinks badly of you for trying, and trying again, and not succeeding. Life is about making mistakes and learning from them, after all.

6. You need a shocking amount of documentation to register your child for kindergarten. And you will cry at least once on the outing, wondering where the time went and how your baby can possibly be going to kindergarten already.

7. I remembered that I am just not that good at solo parenting, as I did it for most evenings this month. I could probably become good at it if I needed to, but I’m glad that I don’t need to.

8. I discovered the joy of cinnamon bark.

9. I re-learned how suddenly the end of February creeps up on you. February is short, yo!

10. I saw communities come together, in the most inconvenient circumstances possible, just to glimpse the Olympic Torch. I felt awe-struck.

What about you? What did you learn in February? Please share!

My 5-Year-Old Can’t Read

My daughter Hannah is a perfectly normal 5-year-old. She can hold up her end of a conversation, she enjoys books and music, and she loves to play outside. She can print her name, most of the time. She can dress herself and use the washroom on her own, and she plays well with her friends at preschool. All things considered, she is pretty typical.

Like a lot of parents, I still feel anxiety about my daughter’s development. The other day I met a child exactly 1 year younger than Hannah. An adult was reading a book that neither kid had seen before, and would occasionally point at a word. Hannah guessed based on context and the picture, with about a 30% accuracy rate. The other child, though, was clearly reading the words. I’m not particularly proud of myself, but seeing that a child a full year younger could read words when my own daughter doesn’t recognize all the letters in the alphabet sort of caught in my throat. I became concerned that my child is behind somehow, and won’t catch up.

There are a lot of organizations that prey on these parental fears and concerns. Of course we all want to make sure that our children have the basic skills to succeed in life. And so people and organizations step up to the plate, promising to help our children do better. They claim that the younger that reading starts, the better a child’s reading skills will be in the long term. In reading I even heard somebody cite the Matthew Effect as a reason that babies should read.

The Matthew Effect is named after Matthew 25:29 in the Bible, which says:

For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.

In the context of reading, what this means is that when children don’t master reading by a certain age, it negatively impacts their educational advancement. They continue to fall farther and farther behind. This is because reading becomes critical to learning about many other subjects – children can’t research whales, or ancient Rome, or do mathematical word problems if they can’t read. However, it seems that most educational experts believe that the threshold for the Matthew Effect is around grade 3, not in preschool.

I have no doubt that people touting the benefits of teaching your baby to read are very sincere. But I will admit, reading their sites fills me with panic. If the sensitive period for reading really does start to close at 4, as one site claimed, then we have totally missed the boat and I have failed my child.

And then I came across a fabulous post by BluebirdMama, who is writing a series on her thoughts as her son gets ready to start kindergarten in the fall. Her post, Let Them Play, spoke to me and calmed a lot of my fears. In particular, I was delighted to hear about a study from New Zealand that demonstrated that by the time they are 11 years old, there is no difference in reading ability between early readers and later readers.

Anecdotally, our own family confirms that study. My husband Jon apparently started reading at around age 4, and I didn’t learn to read until I was in grade 1, at around 6 1/2. It makes no difference today, just as the fact that I was an early walker makes no difference to my current walking abilities. The fact is, children develop in their own time and at their own pace, and most of them end up just fine regardless of what that pace is.

Current research actually indicates that preschool-aged children, like my daughter, often do better in a an open-ended and creative environment that focuses on their social and emotional development. If children are interested in reading, that’s great. But if they’re not and we force them to complete academically-oriented tasks they can actually become discouraged and develop negative school associations. If we don’t impose academics on preschoolers who aren’t ready, they will catch up down the line. In fact, strong social skills in early childhood are linked to learning abilities in school-aged children.

Sooner or later my daughter will learn to read, when the time is right for her. In the meantime, we will do puzzles and paint and dance and role-play. And I will feel confident that I am not, in fact, dooming her to a lifetime of illiteracy.