The Kid is learning to read. I mean, he’s in the years-long process of learning to read.
He loves to read.
Part of that is that he reads things that are interesting to him. It doesn’t have to be books. It doesn’t have to be at his reading level. Whatever is interesting.
Sometimes, he likes to read his old picture books. (The words in those are not always easy to read, since they’re generally intended to be read out loud by a competent reader. Even when they are easy, he enjoys them.
Sometimes, he reads LEGO magazines.
Sometimes, he reads chapter books.
Right now, he’s reading a Minecraft graphic novel. I believe he’s read it in its entirety three times since acquiring it less than a week ago.
Reading is reading. It’s all practice. It’s all building skills, building habits, nurturing a love of reading.
I remember overhearing a conversation years ago between two moms. One’s son was only interested in reading comic books. She forced him to read “real books” before he was allowed to read comic books. They weren’t school-assigned; she just didn’t think comic books “counted” as reading.
There are words, sentences. There’s a story. There are characters.
It counts. It all counts.
Reading is reading.
