How I Grew a Bookworm

We sit on a golden velour armchair. One of the few pieces of furniture we own with a family tale to tell. An heirloom passed down from their great grandmother’s country WA cottage. 
The wooden arms are scratched and worn but the old chair is full of life. 

He rests upon my knee. He is sparkling, scrubbed clean after a day of crawling the grubby floors. His beautiful bare feet yet to walk the earth rest on my legs. His pyjamas full of monsters, his tiny wisps of soft red hair tickle my face. I breathe in and savour that glorious precious baby smell. 
A scent no perfumer could ever recreate. A new smell, an untainted smell, a healing smell.

His chubby dimply little hand turns the flap. He smiles. He knows what comes next. Grrrrr. Wooof Woof!! I bark like a dog. He chuckles, I want to eat his chubby cheeks. He closes the flap, the dog stops barking, each time the flap opens, the dog is on guard yapping and yelping. 
His smiles fill the room.We turn the pages, we flip the flaps. He sits and absorbs every word I say. 

I was always amazed at how still he sat. From the tender age of six months to today at almost four this continues to be part of the bedtime routine. It was the lift the flap books that first captured his imagination even at such a young age his curiosity always got the better of him. He just had to find out what was hidden behind that paper door. 

At the age of 18 months every night he choose his own books. Three books, he always choose one familiar book and two different. He would sit quietly while I read every sentence even if the pages were swimming with words he did not understand. At age two when he had more words I would ask him questions and he would let me know if I had skipped a bit. All those times when he was a baby he was listening and remembering every word. So never feel silly for reading to your six month old they are absolutely taking it all in. 

These days I just love when all is quiet and I peek in through his bedroom door. There he sits quietly on the floor, books scattered about him. The sunlight shining though the window onto his thick and lively red curls. He does not hear me watch him, he is engrossed in a world of super hero’s and talking newspaper editor mice. 

Nowadays however he will not read the books I choose about wombats and owls. He wants action and suspense. He is, I believe stuck in between stages. I feel he is too young for the big boy books that can be a bit violent for an overactive three year old mind, but he no longer wants to read the gorgeous toddler books that I love reading. Although Dr Seuss is always accepted and they are one of my favourite books to read. The action hero books make me want to go to sleep. 
Maybe I should just let him read whatever he wants after all as long as it captures his attention he will learn the invaluable skill of reading.



Any recommendations for Super Hero books suitable for a 3.5-4 year old?

Do you Own a bookworm?

I wish I could be a bigger bookworm myself.

Linking for the first time in a while with EssentaillyJess for IBOT.

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