the Yes Effect

“Girls, if you grab the book we an read a chapter or two before bed”.

“Cool Mom, ya!” said one; “Can I just play legos qwietly while you guys wead?” said the other.

She came downstairs with The Secret Garden in her hand, “Mom, can I read it this time?”.

I glanced at the clock, it would take longer if I let her read.  It was already past bed time.  But I’ve said no every other time she’s asked; I was due, way past due.

“Yyyyyeeees”.  It sounded more like a question than a statement, but it didn’t matter to the girls.  

She read.  She impressed me.  We worked on pausing, on pronouncing, on slowing down and using a quieter voice so she wouldn’t get out of breath.  She amazed me with what she could comprehend while focusing so intently to sound out longer words.  

And then  she came to the words 'garden hoe’  …  ”hoooeee”, “hooooeh”, “hhhhh…..” , her face was contorting so much that she made herself laugh and then we all laughed with her.  Then said it again, then laughed, and laughed some more.

And while she read, her younger sister played her legos and practiced writing her name, the best I’ve seen her do yet, and she gave her drawing to me, so proud was she.   

And when it was time for bed we talked about what we were thankful for and Hadz ~for the first time~ grasped the concept of what it meant to be grateful, and she said she was glad that her sister played with her today.  

And when it was my turn I said I was grateful for getting to take them to school today, because I was so happy to do so this morning.  

And May was thankful for our family dinner the night before, for her cousin’s birthday, for being with family.

And I realized the effect of Yes is felt long after the “yyyesssss” has left our larynx.   

The Yes Effect.

 © Houseman 2013