Mrs. Frisby & the Rats of Nimh

I grew up reading Enid Blyton's books. I was and still am a voracious reader. Apparently that trait has been handed down to my children.

Beep!

Under the scanner.

Beep!

"Uh oh," chirped the librarian, as I frowned while trying to check out the pile of books H had gathered.

"Oh, you've already checked out 50, which is the maximum. Do you have another card?"

Librarians are known to be helpful and friendly people. That well known fact is proved at that very moment.

I shook my head, thinking I should have brought hubby's card along.

I told H to pick out which books he really wanted to check out, and we left the library with a pile of books stacked up hign in his arms. On the way out, he dropped some, attracting stares. It was worse than if we had brought our huge library bag in. I hadn't expected the kids to check out books, so we left the bag in the van. The bag in the van actually contained Upper Arlington Library's books we had to return. The Discovery Place has 50 as a maximum limit, while Upper Arlington Library has 100 as its maximum.

As of now, we have 50 plus 97 library books at home. There were times when librarians have made comments at the amount of books we check out. Everytime we got in line to check our books out at the Upper Arlington Library, I feel self conscious.

Three kids. A set of book for each. They strive to defy the logic that all three can read the same book by taking turns. Each one wants to claim his/her own set of checked out library books.

Despite all that, they do devour the library books like a hungry person devours a table set with steaming fresh food. S can finish reading a 1 inch thick chapter book in a matter of hours. H seems to be following in her footsteps. N is somewhat lagging behind, but she has her own reasons for lagging; she observes the detailed lines and colors of the illustrations.

Just today, as S was doing her reading assignment, I took it upon myself to read the novel she was assigned: Mrs Frisby and the Rats of Nimh. I had started reading it weeks ago but was interrupted, and totally forgot about it. I picked up where I left off this morning, and spent the rest of the morning finishing up the whole book. At the end of it, I exclaimed,

"I LOVE this book!"

Suffice it to say, I love reading children's books. I don't actually have the time to read it, what with also reading adult books, but when I'm sitting with the kids, I make the time.

They have stopped watching TV for about a month or more now alhamdulillah, with no complaints. Usually, kids turn deaf when they're watching TV. My kids lose all sense of hearing when they read. I don't know if it's worse than them watching TV, or the same. Either way, you will speak only to yourself if you try to get them to respond to you while they have their noses buried deep in their books.

It is during these times that I tend to pick up one of those books lying around (there are ALWAYS books lying around the living room, couch, bed, bedroom floor) and read them. I couldn't help giggling and chortling as I read Junie B Jones yesterday.

"Does she speak funny?" I asked S.

She nodded.

As I read out loud some funny sentences in the book, H said,

"Ummi! Don't! If not I won't be able to read it anymore!"

I heeded him, only for a while, and for the rest of the evening, I read out loud Junie's peculiar sentences, much to his annoyance.

We really need more Islamic fiction. We need them really BAD. Even the Islamic schools are using non Muslim fiction since we don't have enough Islamic fiction.