A Favorite Moment

We have stacks of books everywhere in our house – a mess I’ll never detest. And Stella has picked up on this whole book thing. She’s obsessed. At first, I honestly felt a little smug about the whole thing. As an English teacher and an obsessive reader myself, I was pretty darn proud of my little reader. But as she’s grown, her fascination with “stories” has grown more and more fierce. For a small toddler, she possesses an uncanny ability to sit and focus on stories for about an hour each morning. Each night, she and I pick out a batch of new stories for the next morning, and with each passing month, she’s interested in longer and more developed stories. She’s recently discovered my old Paddington Bear books which has me beyond tickled. But I guess I could say be careful what you wish for because I now crawl out of bed with a hoarse voice from all that reading.

You won’t catch me complaining though. This simple morning ritual is one of my favorite moments of the day. After snuggling in bed together (the Papa leaves for work before any sane human should ever wake) and saying good morning to the cats, Stella asks for stories. We cover our eyes with great dramatic effect as we turn on the bedside lamp, hunker down with cozy blankets and read, read and read. It doesn’t matter what mood I’m in when I hear her squawk “Mama” from her crib, reading with Stella in the morning aligns my Mama juju and helps remind me from the get go of what a sweet, genuine and curious girl I have.

Stella seems to revel in these morning moments and asks for shorter encore performances periodically through the day. Like most eighteen month olds, Stella is on the go go go all day long. She possesses an enviable amount of confidence and strength and she knows it. Life is full. But there are moments when I can tell she feels almost betrayed by her abundant energy. She needs to slow down, but she can’t quite figure out how to move from frenzied point A to chilled out point B. Reading allows her a path toward that calmer state. And I wonder if she lingers so unusually long during these morning reading jags because she subconsciously knows that she’s got a long and busy day ahead of her.

And of course, this reading gig isn't so bad for me either. The other day, Stella handed me yet another story to read. It was around 4:30 in the afternoon – the witching hour, help us all – and reading another story frankly sounded horrid. I was drained and tired of giving. And giving. And giving some more. And I was tired of hearing my own voice. Silly, but true. But like all the mamas out there, I put on a happy face and read on. Well, Pollyanna be proud! As I hit page six of the story, I realized I was engrossed and relaxed. Like Stella, I allowed myself to sink into the book and found myself transformed. As I turned the last page, I found myself wishing for Stella to utter that magic story word. "More?" These reading jags don't serve as a surefire cure all, but they do provide a tune up of sorts - an oil change if you like - and I'm realizing both Stella and I need these little mood tweaks as we navigate life together.

So my voice is a bit rough right now, and I will honestly admit that reading Chrysanthemum six times in one day is a bit much for my taste – it’s a fabulous tale, but c’mon – but I’m soaking this up for all it’s worth. This fascination will most likely shift – as things tend to do with all things toddler – but it’s wonderful while it lasts. And in the meantime I’ll speak hoarsely with pride, pop the kettle for a cup of tea and help my hungry peanut find another story to explore.