Evenings are pretty ridiculous around here. Everyone kind of goes crazy as I have a lot of work to get done. It’s not uncommon to have two kids screaming at my legs for a snack as I’m trying to get dinner done so we can run and pick my husband up from the train before we come home and have our family dinner.
And family meals…
I remember all those commercials from years back about how important family meals are and how much families can bond over dinner. For us, it is not like that. For us, it’s a massive test in patience as we try to coax two toddlers into eating healthy food while our seven year old laments about how unfair it is that she can’t eat dairy anymore.
But eventually dinner is over and the plates get cleared from the table (thanks to my husband) and I retire into my bedroom to read with each girl individually.
I like this time. I like the quiet. I like the stories. I like the cuddling.
But as much as I like it, I actually think they like it more.
Each girl will come in and take a few moments to get super “comfy.” They will both position themselves on my arm just so and pull the blankets up to their head. Goosie giggles as she does this because there is nothing she likes more than a good cuddle, and she knows that this time is just for her.
I let the girls pick out their stories. Goosie is three, so she will pick out a couple of picture books. Magoo is six and likes chapter books, so we carefully select one to read for the next week or two. Right now we are on Charlotte’s Web.
And then we get lost in the books.
Sometimes I do voices, but sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I ask questions, and sometimes we just read. Sometimes Magoo and I take turns reading, but lately I have been reading pretty much exclusively. I figure that after a long day of learning, it’s probably much more relaxing for her if I do the reading and she can just lay back and enjoy it.
And that’s it. It’s not a complicated routine. It’s not a hassle at the end of the day. It’s not an item on the to do list.
It’s just a gift I like to give to my kids.
I look at them all snuggled up, and I imagine what it must feel like to them – the touch and the sounds and the smells and the sights.
It’s a big world out there. It feels big to me — I can’t imagine what it must feel like to a little person. There is so much for them to learn and to experience. There’s stuff for them to fear and for them to embrace, and often, they don’t know which is which.
This world is theirs for the taking.
But sometimes I think it’s nice to take a step back from the world. To lock it all out. To lock us in. And just be with each other.
We do that in many ways. But no way seems to mean more to any of us than our nightly reading ritual.
Part of me is afraid this will end too soon. I worry that time will move too quickly and we will get inundated with too many tasks, and slowly, our reading will become a thing of the past. I’ve read about the benefits of reading to children all the way through junior high and beyond. This isn’t something I want to end.
And so I worry.
But then I think about us, and I realize that if I keep my ears open to them, I don’t think it will end. I don’t think they will want it to.
It’s our time to reconnect. Our time away from all of the roles we play all day. Our time to just be child and nurturer.
They need that. I need that.
And I think if we all just keep our ears open to each other, we will always find our way back.
This is beautiful, and my favorite time of day with my 11 year old, too. Thank you for reminding me why we continue to do this – it’s to reconnect, yes, and to retreat from what can be an overwhelming world. Lately, we each read our own books. Sometimes she journals and I read. Sometimes she shares about what she’s writing or reading. Sometimes I do. Always, it’s a special and sacred time.