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Reading is enchanting, essential, and at times, unbelievably tedious when you’re stuck listening to little ones fumble through their first words.
Whether or not you grew up singing along to the Reading Rainbow theme or eagerly anticipating the Scholastic Book Fair, it’s clear that reading holds immense value, with numerous benefits. We’re constantly reminded that parents should read to their children from the very beginning—even if it feels somewhat silly to flip through pages for a newborn who seems more interested in drooling than dialogue.
I’m all in for this journey! Bring on the comb, the brush, and even that bowl full of mush. I’m ready to embody all the voices of heroes and villains. I can read to my kids for hours—it’s all fun and games until “to” turns into “with.” However, reading alongside a child, or rather, summoning the patience of a saint while they painstakingly work through early phonetics? That’s an entirely different story.
In my home, I have two budding readers and a younger one who we thought might be a literary prodigy until we realized he had just memorized the entire collection of Sandra Boynton. He still has a few years before he’s ready for sight words. The other two are tracing their fingers along pages and sounding out words in a fashion so drawn out that I can’t shake the feeling they are deliberately stalling bedtime. I need to recite a calmness prayer: Grant me all your tranquility to endure the agony of sitting next to my adorable child with his damp hair neatly combed, as he stares at the word “bag,” taking his sweet time to produce “buh,” then “aaa,” and finally “guh.” Give me the strength to remain silent while he blends the sounds together, and when he finally exclaims “BAG!”, I must feign surprise and excitement at his recognition of the brown sack with handles.
It’s reassuring to remember that these efforts are for a noble purpose. Reading with young children boosts their communication and speech skills, fosters cultural understanding, and elevates academic achievement, among other advantages. Studies have shown that reading can even bring about the health benefits of meditation, inducing a blissful, trance-like state. For me, it’s a test of self-control. How many times can we read the same Black Panther book before I lose my mind?
And when a new book makes its way into the mix, I find myself lying there, thinking that surely, this time, the dog will succeed in riding his scooter after tumbling off twice. I’m tucked into the bottom bunk, resting my head on a dinosaur pillow, trying my best to appear genuinely interested—or at least awake—as my son points to the word “celebrate,” musing aloud, “Calibrate? No, don’t tell me.” I try not to think about the dark chocolate peanut butter cups calling my name from downstairs or the book that’s waiting for me.
Naturally, these are moments to treasure. I feel thankful for my children’s inquisitive minds and their burgeoning love for books. As Stephen King once said, books are “a uniquely portable magic.” Anyone who has experienced Max’s adventure into the night from his own room, Harry’s first encounter with Platform 9¾, or Jo March writing by candlelight in her attic knows this to be true. Just imagining the worlds my children will uncover in wardrobes and rolling hills keeps me propped up on my dinosaur pillow, nodding along, and when it’s getting late, offering to read the next page (or five).
Clara Thompson resides in Raleigh, North Carolina, where she juggles writing and parenting. Her work has appeared in various publications, including Flying South, Walter Magazine, Architectural Digest, and Food 52, among others. Beyond family, her great passions include a South Carolina beach, a Roger Federer backhand, a Charlottesville lawn, and—most importantly—a good story.
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