Hello everyone, and welcome to Memory Monday, guest blogger edition! I'd love to welcome Emily, or Ems, someone I've known for a very long time. She's prepared a lovely post to share with all of you about her childhood reading experiences, so stop, stay a while, and let us know what you think!
Info:
Ems: 30-something book reviewer, book lover, library haunter, old bookshop fiend, and general bibliophile. Currently a graduate student in Education at Idaho State University, with plans to become the greatest advocate of books the public school system has ever seen. Working on a novel herself, which may or may not see the light of day. It doesn’t really matter, since writing is almost as cathartic as reading for her. Ems blogs about books and life, at In which Ems reviews books and Some days I'm just plain philosophical, respectively. Post:
I fell in love with reading at a very young age, thanks to my mom. One of my earliest memories is of her reading to me from a Babar book. Oh, how I loved Babar! I’d have done anything for that elephant, not to mention all his friends. It was the book I’d request over and over. Knowing what I know now about how kids get attached to books, I’d kind of like to give my mom some kind of award for reading it to me so many times.
Not only did Mom read Babar, but she read everything. We were forever reading. I feel very lucky to be the oldest child, because I had her undivided attention for almost 2 ½ years! My other siblings aren’t nearly the readaholic that I am. They didn’t get as much solo Mom-time as I did. To be fair, I was probably hanging around begging for books during their solo Mom-time.
Mom and I read just about everything under the sun. She introduced me to Barbapapa, Amelia Bedelia, The Little Golden Books, Charlotte and Wilbur, a mouse named Ralph, Sylvester the donkey, and the list goes on and on. The characters lived for me back then, and they still do. I can’t read a childhood favorite without getting a little bit choked up.
I love that she never felt obligated to stick to ‘age appropriate’ books with me. She just read. When we’d go to the library, I’d get to pick some and she’d pick some for me. She made sure that I had exposure to a wide variety of authors and illustrators. I know that it’s because of her that I’m such a bibliophile.
Because of my mom, I learned to read early too. She kept a list of books that I’d read by the time I was four years old, and it’s hundreds of books long. I really wish I could find that list now. It’s around here somewhere, but eludes me. The list isn’t just picture books either. I read my first chapter book (Babar, of course) when I was three. Nothing could stop me. By the time kindergarten rolled around (I was four years old for kindergarten), I was already reading on a fourth grade level and had read every book we owned multiple times. I got my own library card at five.
I learned that if there’s one thing I’m going to replicate with my own kids, it’s reading aloud to them and showing them that Mom loves to read too. (My mom doesn’t really read that much herself, ironically. I don’t know why she decided it was so important to read to me, though I’m forever grateful for that.) I’ve got to model reading for pleasure to them so they see that it’s a pretty okay pastime to have. As a future teacher, it’s something I’ll pass on to my students as well. Hey kids, it’s okay to love reading! It’s okay to get lost in books! It’s the cool thing to do!
Thanks so much Emily! That was a wonderful post! I love that you mom kept a list for you, and I hope you find it soon! That would be a treasure!
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