Reading with My Babies

Years ago, when my children were small, we lived in a big old house in a small western New York town.  It was a neat old town, with a Main Street lined with shops and big houses built by the successful entrepreneurs of the 19^th century.   A good many of the houses on the side streets were from the late 1800’s or early 1900’s.  There were lots of porches on which to sit, and most of the streets had tree- shaded sidewalks.  The YMCA was a big gathering place.  All the various social classes met there.  Doctors “worked out” beside the grocery store employees, and everybody seemed to get along.  One of my family’s favorite spots in town was the public library which was housed in an old building with a modern wing.  And the best part about that library was that it was located right across the street from our house! 

I can remember taking the kids’ hands and scuttling across the street, after looking both ways of course, to the ramp that led up to the new section.  We’d hustle up the ramp and rush in the doors and head straight for the children’s area, located downstairs.  Soon we were headed back to the house with a huge armload of books.  I’m not sure who was more excited to read those books, the kids or me.  We’d come in, set the books on the second-hand coffee table, plunk ourselves on the second-hand couch, grab one of the books and start to read.  The two oldest who were 5 and 3 when we first moved to that house would lean against me, one on each side, and we’d devour those books one after another.  Boy that was fun.  Revisiting some of the old classics like Are You My Mother, Make Way for Ducklings, and Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel was a hoot.  The Pokey Puppy, The Gingerbread Man, and Sam and the Firefly made welcome appearances too.  We’d talk, discuss, and laugh and reach for another book.  Yes, we spent a lot of time sitting there on that couch, enjoying those stories and each other —was it an indulgence?  Maybe.  Heaven knows there were plenty of other things to be done around the house.  But I think it was well worth the time.   

We kept reading as the kids got older, and the books grew longer and the stories became more involved.   We usually broke those chapter books out at night before they went to bed.  That was fun too—even reading till I was hoarse due to their cries of “keep reading” when I tried to close the book for the night.  But I especially treasure those hours on the couch with my little ones.  It was such a joy to share all those lovely stories with their little bodies leaned up against mine….