Big House

It’s fairly obvious that I love to write.  I’m not particularly good at it.  I don’t have an impressive vocabulary, my grammar isn’t perfect, and my thoughts are often jumbled and choppy.  Don’t even get me started on my spelling!  There’s just something to be said for translating your own thoughts onto paper(or a computer screen) in a way that is uniquely yours.  If you think about it, the probability of someone else writing down the exact same sequence of words that you have, is nill. 

Instead of reading a book to Rowan during his bedtime routine, sometimes I’ll tell him a story.  It could be a classic-Little Red Riding Hood, Peter Rabbit,  or the Three Little Pigs.  Other times I make up a story.  Usually the main character is a blond little boy, around the age of two, and the plot revolves around the little blond boy riding a train, or driving a bulldozer.  There is not usually a twist or hidden surprise in these stories.  They are simple and to the point, and he loves them! 

As a result of telling Rowan these stories, he has started to tell his own.  This morning he brought me a pen and told me to write it down.  (The night before I had said to Rowan that I need to start writing our stories down)

This is Rowan’s story:

“Big House”

by Rowan Gabriel Dalenberg

Age 2 years and 4 months


 I’m going to build a house.  It will have 1-2-3 bedrooms.  Mommy, Rowan, and Ezra will live there.  It will be big all the way to the top!  It will be orange.  There will be a little one playroom with a big tent.  Huge!  There will be big books!  Much books! 1-2-3-2 books!  It will have a kitchen and a stove.  I can cook eggs and eat cranberries.

Leighton will come visit me.  Brother Lincoln too!  And Leighton’s mommy.  We will play toys.  We will play with Leighton’s toys.  We will knock over a tower, and clean it up.  Then they go.

Then Rowan goes sleepies.  Mama tells a story.  Rowan holds a taggie and goes night-night.

~The End~


At a few points during the telling of this story he got stuck.  I would ask him a question or two to get  him thinking about what happened next, and he would take off, chatting a mile a minute.  I’m proud of Rowan.  He spent a lot of time thinking about this story.  I followed him around as he told it, feeling like a reporter trying to get the scoop. 

 It was fascinating to watch the wheels turn, witness the story develop, and his reaction to me reading it back to him when he was finished was priceless!  “Good story, Mama!  Big, big good!”