Traditions, Continued

I have read to my kids from day one; ok, maybe not DAY ONE, but all three were read to starting as young as 1 month old. They may not have been able to interact, but I honestly believe that their burgeoning little brains and senses were soaking in the sing-songy sound of my voice making it's way through the pages of a Little Golden Book, and benefitting greatly from the warm feel of Mom safely holding their tiny body. In my opinion, that simple but all important act of bonding helped to create a sense of belonging and safety in my kids, and also was the genesis of their love of reading, whether it be books or magazines. And, I feel that it has helped them to become good students; no, I don't have any scientific studies to back this up, just my motherly intuition.

All three kids liked to be read to before going to sleep; sometimes they would fall asleep before I was finished with the book, but more often than not, they would stay awake for the entire reading. When they were very young, they would 'read along' in that baby speak that only baby's know, and follow the meaning of the words more through the pictures that the words themselves. As they got older, they liked to read to me; sometimes this could make a 15 pager seem like War and Peace, and I admit, I wasn't always in the mood to be read to, but the confidence and knowledge they gained from doing so was immeasurable, and far outweighed any complaints that I may have had. Robert loved his Golden Books and anything Winnie the Pooh ; Edward was a huge Clifford the Big Red Dog fan, and Christine liked all that her brothers did, along with Little Critter books. Oh, and Chicka Chicka Boom Boom was always a Brewer favourite; maybe it will be with their own, as well? Time( and LOTS of it!) will tell on that one! Christine and Edward were three book a night junkies; it HAD to be three, no more , no less, and I didn't dare to try to deviate from that, because believe me, I'd hear about it if I did! Robert was usually satisfied with one or two; he wasn't as adamant about the amount as the other two.

Now my kids are way past the age that they like to be read to, and I admit, I miss it. Maybe it's a 'their getting older and don't need me like they used to anymore' thing, maybe it's me getting blindsided by my own progressing age and not always liking it, I don't know. But I do know that myself and my kids treasure those bedtime reading rituals; though they may be hard pressed to come out and actually admit it (God forbid!), I know that they will always hold those times close in their memories. It was just a cool experience that continues to leave a good feeling, and really, isn't that what helps to make the dailies, in whatever form they take, worthwhile?