read to them

A good friend of mine, someone I bonded with over books, is pregnant with her first child. So as a gift to the baby (and her mama), I sent her a selection of children’s books to start their “first library.”

Before I sent them off, while they sat on my dining table for weeks because I insisted on wrapping each one and writing little notes inside, my kids, one by one, from my eldest to my youngest, picked them up and fawned over them.

The older ones said things like, “I love this book!” and “Remember this one?” I had to keep taking them out of their hands so they wouldn’t break the spines or make them look used.

But when Bader, my youngest, saw them, he didn’t have the same memories tied to those stories. Some of the books were unfamiliar to him and didn’t spark any reaction.

That was not ok.

To raise readers, I’ve always believed you have to stuff books down their little throats and hope something sticks. So I decided to start reading to him again.

What did we pick? Roald Dahl, of course.

And which book? While The Witches is probably my favorite, it gave me nightmares as a child. So we went with The BFG. One chapter almost every night, with the promise of watching the movie at the end.

I’d forgotten how much I enjoy reading to someone. The gasps, the giggles, the “oh no’s” and “woohoo’s” there were plenty.

It never stops amazing me how words on a page can have such a powerful effect. I watched Bader’s eyes widen, his mouth drop open, his hand fly up to cover it when Sophie hid inside the snozzcumber to avoid getting eaten by the Bloodbottler.

He sat beside me, sometimes staring at the page, sometimes just straight ahead, and I could see his mind playing out the scene like a movie. Yesterday, we finished the book.

Today, we watched The BFG together. His excitement was through the roof. He noticed some of the differences between the book and the film, and some he didn’t. I noticed them all. I’m always a book person first. Movies never quite do the story justice.

He oohed and aahed and yelled at Sophie when she jumped out of the cave window, “Go back!” I loved it.

I’m also trying something new: no phone while we’re watching something together. It really bothers Khaled, my 14-year-old, when I’m on it. Bader doesn’t seem to notice. He’s one of those kids who gets so absorbed in what he’s doing that a giraffe could walk in and he wouldn’t see it.

Sometimes I spend time with my kids and still feel like I didn’t really spend time with them. That phone creates an invisible barrier that kills any real interaction. It’s like they know not to try and talk to me when I’m on it. So today was a mostly no-phone movie night.

Next, we’re going to read The Wild Robot. Bader has seen the movie too many times already, so he’s told me we’re not watching it. I loved it, and will probably convince him otherwise. After that, we’ll read The One and Only Ivan, and I’ll try not to cry. We’ll definitely watch the movie together since he hasn’t seen it.

The point of this post is simple: read books. I beg you.

Read anything to your children, just make sure it’s something you enjoy too. It’s an incredible way to bond, to be fully present, and to open up their minds and imaginations.

There is nothing like reading someone a book.

That friend I told you about, the one who’s pregnant, used to read aloud to her friends on vacation. Even after she moved away, she kept doing it over FaceTime. How beautiful is that!