We are taking a weekend break from our ‘Morning Nuggets,’ so I thought I’d share a simple ritual we have begun more out of necessity than anything else.
Several months ago our whole family began reading the Hobbit together, but try as we might, our efforts dwindled until all we had was an untouched book with a light layer of dust collecting. I have managed to keep the tradition with the younger ones (currently reading through the Little House series), but I missed that bonding time with my older two. Perhaps there is more to compete with an older child’s time such as stricter schedules for study. Perhaps it was the back-to-back celebrations of the holiday season that begun in October for us since three of us have birthdays then, followed by Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, and finally Three Kings Day. Or maybe it was the dynamics in our current state with the ages of children spanning nearly a decade that leave me reminiscing over the early days with only one, maybe two, little ones when I could snuggle up and read fascinating stories to them without as much distraction as my life seems to provide now.
What ever the case is, it hasn’t been happening and the kids miss it. I think I may even miss it more! You see, I have never been much of a reader of fiction. I naturally lean towards nonfiction. Plus, reading fiction full of vivid, fascinating adventures and intricate, emotional experiences alone seemed too much to absorb on my own. I needed to experience it all with someone else, although I didn’t know it at the time. A quote that describes me is “Happiness is having someone to share it with.”
So, when I began reading to my first when he was hardly able to lift his own head at only a few weeks old, I realized it was an activity that required me to settle myself next to someone who made my world turn, putting aside the basic tasks of survival for a new mother- laundry, cooking, and cleaning. Beyond that, I read to him because all the baby books recommended it and I obeyed.
My “obedience” quickly evolved into a most treasured past-time as I discovered greats such as The Wind in the Willows and Narnia with a five-year-old on my lap and a three-year-old either sharing my lap or building with blocks at my side. Together, we all squealed during moments of suspense and cheered with triumphs of victory. It also was not unusual to partake in some culinary treat when enjoying these adventures in print. Reading aloud for us has always been a full-bodied and unifying experience which explains why the lack of it lately has caused me to take special thought and planning.
One late evening, Christmas night to be exact, when I was heavy with sleepiness and physical exhaustion after a glorious day of presents, feasting, and hosting; I felt a surge of emotion. Even though I spend every day with my 11-year-old, I missed him terribly. I missed sitting near him. I missed the shared experience of laughter, disgust, and celebration that an amazing story can offer. So, unsuccessfully hiding my tears, I told him how I felt. He, in his matter-of-fact beauty replied, “Mami, go to sleep. You’re very tired. Then we can start reading Hobbit again tomorrow from the beginning.”
The next morning, with the help of an alarm, I rolled out of bed, still tired but hopeful. I read my morning devotional, said my prayers, then made a couple of cups of hot chocolate. Standing beside his bunk bed, two mugs and one book in hand, I whispered “Good morning.” He, normally a slow-to-wake-fellow, popped his eyes open and smiled a gorgeously wide smile of approval when he saw the cups of chocolate and the little green book.
At that moment I was glad we had opted for short IKEA bunks years ago because little did I know that I would be hurling myself over the side of the top bunk one day, especially since the side with the ladder is currently turned towards the wall. (That’s another story.)
Anyway, we have faithfully continued our morning ritual for nearly two weeks now, even though there have been some inevitable hiccups threatening to interrupt it such as a little one waking earlier than expected or a mommy sleeping past her alarm. Sometimes I bring hot chocolate, mint tea, ginger tea, or, like today, warm vanilla milk with nutmeg and maple syrup-his new favorite. I’m happy to report that we love reading together as much as we always have. It also starts us on the same page for the day and sprinkles a little magic over normally mundane tasks like wiping down the breakfast table and putting away dishes.
Well, there you have it–my unintentional detailed report on “Why I like to read with my kids.” And I thought I was going to write a simple sentence or two on starting our day with a book.