What's most fascinating about her is that if we don't catch her reading exploits, she most always feels the need to confess them. I will often see her padding down the hall toward me well after bedtime, hair mussed from lying on her pillow, a guilty look on her face. Or the next morning after finally dragging herself from slumber, she'll level a serious gaze at me. "Mommy, I read a little bit last night."
Currently, she's working on The Chronicles of Narnia. There are so many worse things she could do than sneak in a bit of C. S. Lewis after bedtime.
Being a night owl, she loves to sleep in next day. She got this honest. And as she's nine now and nearing puberty, I've discovered that she needs to sleep a bit extra. That's a luxury of homeschooling. The day's work waits for them, not the other way around.
Her little brother is a different story. On designated reading nights, I'll often step into their room to tell them it's time to put their books down and go to sleep, only to find him already passed out on his bed, his book shipwrecked at his side.
He's an early bird. In fact, he's the only honest early bird in the family. Some wouldn't consider him very early (approximately 8am), but being a night owl, I do. If they get in bed early enough, most nights we let them have a bit of reading time before lights out.
He's my happy, chatty, sweet and smiley alarm clock.
Two mornings ago he sneaked into my room and crawled into my bed immediately upon wakening, as is his custom, and announced, as is not his custom, "Mommy, I want to be your huggy pillow."
Awesome! I moved the pillow and hugged him close instead. Five seconds later...
"A huggy pillow's job sure is a hot job."