Is it just me, or does Big Nutbrown Hare in Guess How Much I Love You seem to one-up Little Nutbrown Hare on every page? That can’t be good for the poor kid. And Goodnight Moon, really. I can name every object in a room, too. Literary gold?
There are so, so many good books I can’t wait to read with Miss E, but every day I muster my enthusiasm for the often tedious board book. I admit I am anxiously awaiting the bedtimes when we can read a chapter of Peter Pan or The Secret Garden or absolutely any of these books for older tinies. I want desperately for her to be a reader the way Mrs. Bennet wanted good husbands for her daughters, the way Anne Shirley wanted puffed sleeves. If Miss E’s first crush is a fictional character, I believe I’ll have succeeded as a parent.
But I don’t want to rush her. With this, as with everything, I have to remind myself to stop and play where Miss E is. We might read the same books every night, but just like when I re-read an old favorite, she finds something new each time: a texture, a color, the dexterity to turn the page. If she’s comfortable enough to drool on her copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, I’m hopeful that I’ve set her up for a lifelong love of books. Because that’s worth waiting for.