reading allowed

Three weeks in to her school career and little a is reading already. Well, that's what I thought until I clocked that in fact she'd learned the words and was reciting them back. But I guess she's sort of recognising the letters and that's prompting her memory, right?

We have reading 'homework' to do with her: books to read together, and a notebook to write down what she thought and how she got on. The first book she 'read' is called Nog. It's about a dog. Gripping stuff: Nog goes in. The cat runs out.

As well as the total rush of pride (misplaced as it turned out) I've also got deep deep nostalgia for the books I learned to read from myself. Desperately want little a to be learning from Billy Blue-Hat and the Village at Three Corners.

I can't imagine that Billy and his chums were any more exciting than Nog - and Janet and John certainly not. So it's just making me wonder: by wanting to read the books I loved with little a am I trying to trap her in an old-fashioned childhood that isn't relevant any more? I'm definitely really protective of what she reads and even worse about TV (basically, Charlie & Lola on very rare occasions and that's it). I'm an entertainment fascist. Am going to have to find a way of letting go ...