Almost nothing is more American than spending the day at the ball park, eating red hots and watching a game of baseball.  One of the reading incentive programs at Maverick’s school had as it’s reward a free ticket to a Kane County Cougars game.

As an added bonus, the child would be part of a pre-game parade on the field,  get to meet the players and receive a free t-shirt.  Now I am not  big sports fan, I watch it when I find myself in a bar or talk about it when I am playing poker, but as a general rule — I don’t shed any tears if a team wins or loses.

But the thought of getting to take my son to his first game — that is an entirely different thing.  Maybe it’s because I am getting older,  I find myself more cognoscente of how far time goes by and aware of the realization that before I know it he will be grown.  You have to treasure those “firsts” when you get them, because they never come back.

With that said, Sunday was a crisp, clear day.  The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.  I would later come to wish there were with our seats firmly planted behind home plate (great seats), the sun quickly became a sweltering eye in the sky.

With a shirt that would fit him in say, three years we made our way down for the parade on the field.  Since this was my first time to this park, we both admired the attached park area and pay to play or ride/slide games.

The line of people for the parade was huge, it had to be over 300 people long.  As we ambled through and around the outer track, Maverick didn’t want to wave to the people, the shy bug had bitten him but that was to be expected.

Immediately following, he informed me that he was hungry. One jumbo dog, a drink, a five foot long twizzler and a snow cone later, he was satisfied.  You would never know that this bone thin kid is my son!

After about 6 innings he started to get antsy, the game was not holding his attention so we decided to go and take a walk around.  The Cougar’s were losing badly so a change of scenery was cool with me.

Down to the activity area we went, and spent the remainder of our time down in the shade.  We left before the end of the game and got out before the mass exodus, it was a great day and a lot of fun, and one of those memories I’ll always have.

I warn you, the video in the link below is brutal, some people are not meant for video, I think, no I am fairly sure I am one of those people.

Weak Video Blog Attempt

That’s really what I should do. What has me worried/somewhat distressed? My son’s interest in schoolwork, in particular reading and writing. Some of you know I have a largely useless degree in English, both in relation to my job (computer geek), and my writing (largely atrocious and riddled with errors). But I do love to read, and do so whenever I can.

This struggle mind you is in my head; on the outside I am nothing but supportive, calm and reassuring; on the inside I fight battles with myself over how I can best help him to learn. Over what things I can do to help him, and ways I can spark his interest in learning.

And what I realize is that its my own passion for reading that is fueling my desire for him to learn to read. I guess on some level I can’t wait for him to read. I loved to read as a child, and its something that I want to share with him.

Which is a great thing… but why is it driving me nuts? I guess it’s no different than potty training. It will happen in time, just don’t push it. The teachers in his school are on the ball, and he gets extra time with a reading teacher so he has the best that he can get with my tax money.

And I have to remind myself that he is six and his attention span is short. The truth of the matter, as it suddenly occurs to me while writing this is that I see his disinterest in studying as an echo of how I used to feel about schoolwork, and it worries me that he might end up having those same feelings.

In what can only be the wheel coming full circle I find myself thinking about cutting back on TV time and video games, yes.. I have become my parents. And it’s funny as hell.

Its something that after almost thirty-eight years I take completely for granted. Like most I don’t have to think about reading — what is that word? what does it mean? — or writing — how does it look? how did I form that letter “a” ?

For my six year old son, its an entirely different story. Kindergarten, and learning to read. Not something I remember from way back when in kindergarten, about the most I can muster from those days is a memory of a prop hatchet that my Dad made for a class play and the fact that it wasn’t returned much to my dismay.

What I find myself struggling with is how I can best help him with learning to read and write. His teachers are great, and their teaching materials are amazing. But it doesn’t change the fact that right not its hard for him, and he get frustrated easy.

Through the praise and encouragement I asked him today if he had ever heard the phrase –

“Practice Makes Perfect.”

He shook his head no and I went on to tell him that it means that we only get better at things by practicing. I brought up his experience riding the bike, how when he started he kept falling and was having a really rough time with it.

But he stuck with it, and before he knew it he was riding his bike with relative ease. He succeeded because he practiced. The correlation worked well, and I could tell by his eyes that he understood what I was talking about. But it didn’t make it any easier.

I just can’t wait for him to be able to unlock the secret worlds and adventures that await him in the book world. With an imagination like his it will be as much of a candy store for him as it is for me.