My Mother ironed our sheets and pillowcases. It was a treat to climb in-between nice cool and crisp sheets.
That is really special, not a lot of Mom's know how to sew that well or have the time to do such a great thing.
(Mom’s Moms)
No apostrophe.
My mother taught us how to read at home at an extremely early age long before we entered school, and even though I don’t know how old I was at the time, I can just say that I have very little memory of never knowing how to read. I have a lifelong love of reading, because it either was part of forming my imagination, or it vastly fueled and enhanced my already vivid imagination, it really opened up my world. One extension of loving to read is that I’ve also loved learning too. By the time I started school, I had already done so much reading that I exceeded the average child of my age. Being a five-year-old, I didn’t really understand why some other kids in the kindergarten class couldn’t read as well as I did, or could not read at all; it was as natural to me as thinking or talking. As a youngster, I never understood kids who resisted reading, resisted learning to read, or who stated that they hated reading.
Another thing my mother did was that she never used baby-talk with us, nor did she allow anyone else to do it either. My verbal interaction with people was always at a much higher level than was expected for my age. That resulted in a vast vocabulary and a deep understanding of word meanings, word usage, sentence structure, heck, it even spilled over into better cognitive reasoning than children of my age should have had.
I have always credited my mother with those benefits she ingrained in me, I have always been grateful to her for them. When I became a father, I continued the tradition with my children too.
~
Er, um, I never post actual photos of myself nor of anyone in my life. All of the photos I post are results of internet searches that I do.
We have two children.
~