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Almost every great fairytale begins with once upon a time and ends with happily ever after. I love the words once upon a time.
There’s magic in words. And power. And love.
When my children were little, I read to them every night before they fell asleep.
I began when my daughter was about six weeks old. Yes, that young. I read her a Winnie the Pooh book and was so proud when she learned how to turn the pages by herself. I still have that book.
I read somewhere that reading to your children helps them develop a love for reading. I loved it when my dad read Nancy Drew stories to me. I never wanted him to stop reading, so very early on I decided to give this same gift to my children.
It worked.
They love to read. They love to hear stories. They’re both very good listeners.
Was it always that way?
No. I remember when my son was a complete wiggle worm at bedtime and lacked the ability to unwind and listen. I decided to add a bath with lavender to his night-time routine.
It worked.
At some point in their teen years, they no longer wanted me to read to them. (This may seem obvious to most moms, but at almost 50, I still wish I could hear my dad’s voice revealing what Nancy would find at the bottom of The Hidden Staircase.) Now I dream of grandchildren!
I can say that reading to my children helped me as much as it helped them.
I loved The Tale of Despereaux, Chronicles of Narnia, Harry Potter, Mother Goose, AESOP Fables and all the other stories I read to them each night.
They loved the stories and the thought of staying up just a little bit longer.
I loved holding them close, my chin snuggling into their freshly-washed hair.
Reading was one of the best investments I made. And I know it benefited all of us!
