I am a reader. Raising readers. Bob probably wouldn't call himself that, but he does read, especially if I put books I think he'd like next to his bed.
There is nothing I like better than a good book. Or sometimes even a bad book, if that's the only choice I've got. I've been known to desperately read things like aged "Popular Mechanics" or the fine print on the back of a medicine bottle just to have *something* to read while waiting. One of my proudest parenting moments was the time that Grayce told me she "needed" to read and could not go to sleep without it. Some people might call that a sleep disorder. Me, I'm convinced it's a sign of creative genius ;-) Owen doesn't read on his own yet but he loves to listen.
Now that we've got that established, it stands to reason that some of our favorite family traditions surround books. It is a rare day that we don't find ourselves cuddled up together in the Big Bed starting the day with a story. These days it's usually a chapter book (We're reading "Peter and the Starcatchers" at the moment). On our best days, there is herbal tea for the kids and coffee for mom and we end up eating breakfast at 10 am because we just couldn't stop. On the worst, the kids have to hit me over the head with the book and Owen can be counted on to turn on all the lights and helpfully prop my eyelids open with his fingers. Once in a while we tell made up stories. The dog usually makes repeated attempts toward easing himself unnoticed on the end of the bed until I give up. At which point he promptly jumps into my lap.
Since we're homeschooling, we get the added benefit of calling all this "school."
It's a fine tradition :-)
at one with words
in Minneapolis, MN