I want my children to love reading. To love books. I want them to devour books, because that is what they are. Food for the soul. Nourishment for the brain.
For as long as I can remember, I have loved to read. The way the story has been told, my parents figured out I could read when, at the age of three, I walked into a room with a piece of mail and told my mom what it said on the envelope. I was reading when I entered kindergarten. When the rest of the kids were learning their letters, I was reading. I recall summers spent filling up lines on the library's summer reading program sheets. I have a picture from one summer - having read the most books of any of the summer reading program kids, I got a certificate and they put a photo of me in the newspaper.
I still love to read. My favorite is science fiction, but I enjoy almost any type of book, as long as the topic is interesting.
I have long dreamed of the day that Nate would be able to pick up a book and read it, and thoroughly enjoy it. I'll be honest, there was a part of me that hoped he would be like me, and learn to read before he entered school. Sadly (for me only), he had no drive to read. It's not that he didn't love books, because he loves to be read to. But he wasn't interested in reading. I knew he had the mental ability, but I hadn't been able to get him interested in learning how to read on his own. That's why this past school year I was so excited watching him learn to read. And now, one of my favorite things is to sit down with Nate and have him read me a book.
A few months ago, Nate asked me about one of the books I was reading. Now, looking back, I can't remember which one it was. But he was curious about it, since it didn't have any pictures. I showed him each page - full of words. I explained to him how in my books, I don't need pictures because the words describe everything so that you can create your own pictures in your mind. And then I read him a few paragraphs from the book so he could understand. It was then that I think I started to see the light bulb come one, faintly.
When this summer started, I thought it would be a great idea to find a chapter book and read a little of it each night to Nate, instead of reading the kids' picture books that have filled our evenings for the last six years. I wanted to share one that I loved as a child. But I struggled to think of one. Then, for Father's Day, we bought Tom the book
Mr. Popper's Penguins - it had been Nate's idea to get it for Tom. After seeing a preview for the recent movie, Tom said how much he loved the book as a child. But, on the coffee table it sat.
Last week we were on a family vacation, and the house we rented had a DVD collection. In the DVD collection was a copy of the "original"
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie. This was one of my favorite movies as a child. One night, we curled up on the couch and watched it together. Nate absolutely loved it. And I loved watching him enjoy it. Gramma told Nate how the story had been a book first.
And then it hit me. This was the book. This was the one that I would share with Nate (and Nile if he was interested). We got home from vacation and that same day we got the book from the library.
Each night since then we have read a few chapters of the story. Nate snuggles up next to me and I read to him. He's enthralled. He is rapt. He's even asked me to read to him in the middle of the day, when usually he'd rather be playing. Each night he can tell me exactly what chapter we are ready to read - and he can remember in great detail what happened in the previous chapters.
Already this is one of my very favorite "mom moments" of all time. And we're only halfway through the book. Plus, I think I may have convinced Nile to join us. Tonight he sat with us as we read a few chapters, and he was just as engaged.
I feel like Violet Beauregarde - I'm so happy I could burst.
