Odds are pretty good your mom was the first reader in your life. She held you in her arms and read to you about bunnies when your were just a swaddled lump.
She read you to sleep when you were a toddler itching to climb out of your crib.
Your mom read you stories from a children’s illustrated Bible and from Dr. Seuss. She read you stories about little girls wandering in the woods while stalked by carnivorous wolves and vengeful stepmothers who practiced wicked forms of magic.
Mom dragged you to storytime at the library and made you follow her into the bookstore at the mall. If you had a stack of Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys books in your room, your mom probably helped you acquire them. If you’re younger than me, and most people are, your mom might have introduced you to a young wizard with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
Your mom probably helped you with your homework. Memorizing spelling words and vocabulary lists. Identifying synonyms, antonyms, homonyms, and homophones.
She proofread your book reports and guided your use of the hot glue gun when you built than diorama of the barn from Charlotte’s Web.
She listened to your complaints about how boring you found The Giver. Then, she made you go read the next chapter and answer the discussion questions your teacher assigned.
Your mom was a bit puzzled by what you saw in The Hobbit, but she was proud you saw it. She was little shocked by some of the things you read a few years later, but at least you were reading.
It’s been a long time since you read something with your mom, or to your mom. But you know she has a stack of Janet Evanovich books on her nightstand.
Today, you’re going to buy her flowers for Mother’s Day. Maybe take a little detour by Barnes and Noble and get her a book, or a Nook. Add an Amazon.com gift card to her Hallmark card.
Remember, your mom was the first reader in your life. Honor that.
A Thinking Kind of Reading 