Quinn Can't Get Enough of the Books and Casey is a Lunatic

Quinn has some kind of speech issues. Or maybe I should say, non-talking issues. We're waiting until he actually turns 2 this summer before we look into it, but we do think there is something going on. And because of this, and because I am a librarian, I have had this nagging guilt over the fact that I didn't read to him as a baby. Big sigh. I began reading to the girls when they were babies and they could carry on conversations when they were his age. Yes, I am fully aware of the research, and I still didn't read to him when he was 2 weeks old, 4 months old, 6 months old, one year old. And the reason for this is very simple. He hated books. He couldn't sit still. He did not want to listen. It was a battle. So I figured the worst thing I could do was to force him. We kept the books around. We had family reading time in front of him. He had books to play with. And now the time has come. He can't get enough of them. He needs at least 4 books before bed time. He needs to sleep with the book of his choice. In the first 30 minutes that we were home this afternoon I read Brown Bear, Brown Bear at least 9 times. Then he went and chose another book. I believe we have a book lover on our hands.

Casey, as we all know, is a perfectionist. She takes what her teacher says very seriously. She needs to be the best that she can possibly be at everything that she does. If she feels that she is going to come up short on something that she knows she could do better at, it sends her into orbit. Like tonight, for example. She has a seed project due on Friday at school. She has to collect 5 seeds to turn in. AND (here's the kicker) if she comes up with a creative way to display her seeds, she will make a 4 (the highest grade). She HAS TO make the 4. Tonight is Wednesday and we don't have all of our seeds yet. We also don't have poster board or an empty egg carton for seed display purposes. And she is FREAKING out! Sobbing. Wailing. Hyperventilating. Its *awesome*. As her mother, I know exactly what to say to get her to calm down. (Because I am a picture of a perfect, nurturing mother.)

Me: Casey, you have got to chill out. You cannot stress about this. You will have your seeds by Friday. You'll figure out some display by then. You have got to calm down.
Casey: But (gulp, gulp) I (gulp, gulp) caaaaaaaaannnn'tttttt....
Me: Seriously. Get it together. Dry it up. If you keep doing this to yourself you are going to have a heart attack by the time you're sixteen.
Casey: But (gulp, gulp) I (gulp, gulp) caaaaaaaannnnnnnn'ttttttt. I don't know how to stooooooooooooppppppppp ss-ss-tresssiinnnngggg. (wailing, hiccups and moaning)
Me: Well, Case, if you can't figure out how to stop stressing about all of these little things, Mama's going to have to take you to the doctor.
Casey: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! MaaaaaaaaaaMaaaaaaaaa! (sobbing and screaming) Not (gulp, gulp) the (gulp, gulp) DOCTOR!!!!! (runs and hides under the covers, sobbing, screaming, etc)

Anyone have a Valium? Or some seeds and poster board?