So when I eventually produced children of my own, I had big plans to make them readers. My children have taught me a great deal about the reality of reading with kids.
Lesson #1: Don't feel guilty if you don't read to your children every night. I think I went through an identity crisis when I couldn't perform this simple task consistently. I was all gung ho about making this part of the evening routine, to spend a good chunk of time every night reading a few books from the HUGE selection of children's books I have collected. ( I think I have as many children's books as I do adult books) I tried, I really did, but sometimes I was exhausted, sometimes I had ninety things to do before my own head hit the pillow, sometimes, my son was just too wound up to sit for a book and needed lights out.
Lesson #2: You will find the opportunities to read. They will present themselves, just make sure you shut up and take notice. The biggest hint will be when you stumble on them looking through their books. Derp derp, go read with them! Sometimes they will come find me with a book. I am fortunate to be in a situation I can stop whatever I am doing and read their precious selection. You will also make opportunities. In the long road to potty training, I purchased a old school wooden picnic basket from goodwill and filled it with books. It provides some protection from my splash happy kids and they now consider our bathroom story time central.
Lesson #3: Your gremlins do not consider books as precious as you do. I am guilty of going through a period where I hid most of the picture books in our bedroom. I have two boys, and no matter how much I stress "don't stand on the book!" "you're bending the spine!" "ah, ah, ah you're tearing it!", well shit happens. I shed a little tear for the books I had to throw away but if you aren't willing to sacrifice a few to the Toddler Gods, they don't learn how to treat books period. I was so proud the day my son learned how to turn the pages of his regular picture books properly, something his younger brother picked up from watching him.There are still accidents, but I have calmed down quite a lot, now I leave out a good selection of picture books...and hide the rest in the bedroom for down the road.
Lesson #5: Books are fucking magic. It never ceases to amaze me which ones they attach themselves to. My older son has a rotation of about five or six he wants to hear all the time. Most of these selections have sound effects, like "Roar" which he loves to do with me. But curiously, his absolute favorite is a long story, one that leaves me flabbergasted. My son cannot sit through most Dr. Seuss stories, he has attention and learning disorders, but he will sit for "A Bad Case of Stripes" by David Shannon. He will also find it, no matter where I hide it in the house...
I read to my children everyday. Somehow, somewhere, we find a chance to sit a read together. Usually in the bathroom. Book love spreads, like a happy virus. As my youngest watched how much his older brother enjoyed these potty story times, he soaked up the book love. He now sits in my lap, pointing to the pictures, and picks his own book to join in. His current favorite:


No comments:
Post a Comment