Why the answer should (almost) always be YES!
Excerpted from Tell Me a Mitzi by Lore Segal, illustrated by Harriet Pincus
It’s bedtime. Thank god! You’re exhausted. There is food on your shirt, in your hair, maybe even on the walls. Everyone is bathed, except you, of course. You smell. You’re fantasizing about just one glass of red wine, or a spoon and the pint of vanilla swiss almond hidden behind the frozen breast milk, or just getting into bed and passing out even though you didn’t get around to changing the sheets like you’d planned. You’ve tucked everyone in. You’ve kissed everyone. You’re about to turn out the light when the little voice from the little person in the little bed says those six little words, so sweet, yet so crushing at the same time:
Will you read me a story?
Or maybe it’s not bedtime, maybe it’s after breakfast and you’re rushing out the door to work. The babysitter has just arrived, and you can’t remember if you told her everything. What was that other thing you were supposed to tell her that you thought of right before you drifted off last night, and should have written down, but didn’t? Was that dentist appointment today or next Tuesday? “What?” you say as you wrack your brain.
Will you read me a story?
Or maybe you’re in the middle of making dinner. It’s fish. You always overcook fish, and people are coming, people you don’t even like, and you’re already multi-tasking, making a salad and cleaning up (a.k.a. pitching toys into the back of the closet). Maybe that’s when it happens.
The thing is, all that annoying stuff we’re in the middle of when the little person with the little voice says those six little words will still be there when we’re done with the story. In fact, the crappy truth is, there will probably be more of it. So what? That stuff is always there. If we waited to get through all that stuff to read the stories, the stories would never get read, and the stories are the good part, right? The snuggles and the giggles and the questions that come from reading the stories.
Dirty little secret: when I’m not reading children’s books, I’m watching Grey’s Anatomy or some other TV show Shonda Rhimes has created. Whatever your feelings about network television, there is no denying that Shonda Rhimes is a master storyteller and responsible for some of the only relatable, female characters on the little screen. If you’re into storytelling, you kind of have to be into Shonda. Okay, so I’m a little obsessed—did you know she’s a single mom with three adopted kids and three shows on primetime? So, yes, I read her book, Year of Yes.
Why should you care? What does Shonda have to do with reading to your kids? I’m getting there. In her book, Shonda says she’s decided to always say, yes, when her kids ask her to play with them. The arguments for doing so seem obvious, right?
Your kids aren’t going to ask you to play with them forever.
Face it: you’re not really that entertaining so after fifteen minutes, they’re likely to be on to the next thing.
There’s nothing you could be doing in that fifteen minutes that is as important as playing with your kids. Be honest. If Shonda has the time, surely the rest of us do.
So here’s my question: is there anything we could be doing for five/ten/ fifteen minutes that is more important than reading to our kids?
RECOMMENDED PICTURE BOOK
Where on Earth Is My Bagel?
by Frances Park and Ginger Park
illustrated by Grace Lin
A funny, beautifully illustrated story about a Korean boy’s quest for a New York bagel.