Reading for your kids

If you've ever been talked down to (you know, anytime since grade school), you probably remember a surge of bitterness and a whirlwind of expletives building at the base of your tongue, just waiting to launch off of the tip.  Also, if you've ever sat through a lecture--from an extremely dry (or worse, pompous) professor, a self-important vice principal (who wouldn't be so tough without that strap or the Magnum PI mustache), or even a concerned but somewhat unprepared parent on the do's and don'ts of date night (uh, if you think this is awkward, wait until you get to the "so you're getting married tomorrow" lunch conversation)--you know that there are specific triggers that make you shut down almost instantly, rendering the remainder of any such one-sided discussion utterly useless.  You mentally revert to the kid in the back of the station wagon who is either repeatedly asking "Are we there yet?" or trying to find which method of sibling torture will most effectively pass the time, exacting your revenge on the parental units that confined you and six others in the back of what can only be described as a Saskatchewan Sauna for a 13 hour trek across the burned-out prairies...whoa--that one got away from me a little bit...some undigested leftovers of my childhood...where were we?
Oh yes, tuning out that which does not please us...and we've been doing it since...well, since we could make the distinction.  I watch my kids do it when (a) it's time to clean up (b) the TV is on or (c) bed time, time for church, at the mall, in the checkout line, in the car...  So, what it comes down to is not necessarily that I need to be more entertaining than any given distraction, but I do need to be more engaging--showing the way, sharing the work, holding a hand (or ear, or tiny hairs on the back of the neck), singing a song and not just being a royal lump on the sofa throne, barking orders and scheduling the next beheading.
So what does any of this have to do with reading?  We often hear about how important reading to our children is for various developmental reasons--but it would be so much more effective in instilling a love of literature if we adopted the attitude of reading for our children, instead of just to them.  We need to be just as engaging at story time (I know, I know, it's the end of the day) as we are at chore or supper or play time. Spending time reading is, first of all, spending time...but as I get into the books, especially before my little ones have learned to read, I am the infuser of imagination, the director of fantastic delight, the bridge between home and whatever place our chosen book takes us--all the way to Hogwarts or through Narnia, or simply in a box, with a fox.  I love to give characters voices and accents, and I try to elicit some kind of response from the kids--good or bad.  They love the Merle Haggard/Dukes of Hazzard drawl for the Berenstain Bears, but Cooper cringes when Papa Bear breaks out in a lilting Irish brogue...and we've never had so much fun. I often read the simple rhymes of Dr. Seuss with increasing speed, surprising myself at my lingual dexterity and pulling the kids right along with me. And the result?  Bed time is a glorious event instead of a looming battle and books regularly cycle through favorite status; but the best part is when we can't decide on a book and begin to construct a story ourselves, our imaginings winding and weaving together into wonderful, blissful moments of the very best part of life.

By way of introduction

I suppose the best way to begin would be to act as though I know what I'm doing and just write.  Who reads this stuff anyway?  ....my wife?  Sherece said she would, so, you'd better be...

To the delight of my children (and often the exasperation of my wife) I use humor to cope with difficult nearly every situation. The hardest thing with that is knowing when to laugh at the hilarious antics of our three children...not so much in the times when laughing would be detrimental (you know, like in the middle of church)--stifling a laugh is much easier than allowing a laugh when you're otherwise out of sorts.
 Something about being a parent brings out the authoritarian in the most easy-going of us, and all of a sudden it's so easy to hang on to frustration.  Not only that, we meet the slightest offering of peace with stoic unforgiving....aside from making restitution more difficult, we also return hurt for hurt with the tender feelings of our children.  Something that has helped me stop the madness before doing more damage is the realization that in many cases, these fledgling human beings don't know any better while I, in every case, do.  So, I try to let the laughs come when warranted. Hopefully, my epistolary endeavors help others to do the same.