Written by Shawna Wingert of Not the Former Things
When my children were younger, we read together every night.
I worked long shifts and was away from them for most of the day. Reading was our time together. It transitioned my boys to bed.
It was one of the sweetest parts of our day.
Then, I stopped working and we started homeschooling.
I was determined to do it “right.” I spent tons of time learning about all the benefits of reading aloud to my boys. The more I learned, the more pressure I felt.
The lists of classics and required books for each grade level made me feel like a failure.
My oldest son LOVED it when I read him a history textbook, and my youngest requested a very well worn copy of a Scooby Doo Mystery every single night for a year. I felt shame over not reading the “right” books.
“Twaddle” was a word I had never even heard of, until it already seemed like it was too late.
But I believed it was important, so I pressed on, determined we would be read-aloud champions.
And it was no longer fun. It was now a ‘thing.’ It was a requirement. It was what a good mom should do.