A couple of years ago, my mother-in-law gave me a bookmark that contained the following poem:
Reading Mother, by Strickland Gillilan
I had a mother who read to me
Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea,
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
"Blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath.
I had a Mother who read me lays
Of ancient and gallant and golden days;
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
Which every boy has a right to know.
I had a Mother who read me tales
Of Gelert the hound of the hills of Wales,
True to his trust till his tragic death,
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.
I had a Mother who read me the things
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings--
Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Oh, that each mother of boys were such!
You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be--
I had a Mother who read to me.
One thing that I most want my children to inherit from me is a love of reading. This poem applies to my life growing up- I remember my dad reading
Les Miserables to me as a bedtime story when I was a kid, and my family can all attest to the fact that I was rarely without a book in hand. I love the way this poem captures the excitement and adventure that can be found in the pages of a good book, and I love that the author gives credit to his mother for forming his love of reading.
Our home is a place where books are always accessible. And don't tell my kids this (because they might abuse the information) but I will rarely say no if they approach me with a book in hand. "Please read this to me!" is a common refrain throughout the day. We generally have at least 25 library books scattered around the house, but there are also the favorites that we own and continually revisit, namely
Winnie the Pooh, anything by Dr. Seuss or Mo Willems, and a whole pile of others.
Max was born a die-hard book lover. The instant he hears a book being read aloud- whether by his mom at home or a complete stranger at the library- he will drop whatever he is doing and worm his way close to the reader to listen in. He recently listened to his dad read three full pages of
The Nicomachean Ethics, a super dense philosophical text, before Paul finally convinced him that he might rather hear something else. This kid would listen to the telephone book being read aloud, I swear.
Lucian is coming around to books, in part because we have started to make a concerted effort to read stories that are at his comprehension level. It took me awhile to discover that if it is not interesting, he will not stay to listen.
The Hobbit, Max's latest bedtime story, holds Louie's interest for about a paragraph. But he will bring me a whole stack of his own favorites and soak up every word.
When I recently caught the boys in the guest room reading on their own, it made my heart leap a little. Books were such an integral part in forming me as a child, and they continue to form me today. I am so glad that I see the beginnings of two young book lovers in my house.
We try to introduce our kids to good literature, and we have discovered a few lists that we keep returning to for new ideas. Our favorites are the Thomas Jefferson Education family reading list and their classics for young readers, and I also like to browse Charlotte Mason's Bookfinder, where you can search by title, author, or keyword to find great picture books for all ages. The Caldecott Medal Winners are always good to check too.
