We have been reading up a storm these days. Our routine is to hit up the weekly story time at the library, check out tons of new books, and then come home and read, read, read.
The kids aren’t picky about where they read. The kitchen floor will do:
Inside the pantry is a good place too, apparently:
When I go to the library I put Spencer in a stroller so I can confine him while I choose books and checkout. Every week I hope he’ll be content in his stroller the entire time, but usually within five minutes he’s begging to get out so he can push the stroller all over, pull books off the shelf, play with the little toys and stuffed animals, and get drink after drink from the drinking fountain. This last week when I showed him that truck book, he hyperventilated from excitement for a moment then promptly crawled into the stroller and quietly looked at the pictures the rest of the time we were at the library. He did scream for a second when I had to pry the book from his clenched fingers to let the librarian check it out, but once it was restored to him he was a happy fellow again. I will never tire of his undying love for trucks. I will also never tire of hearing him echo me as I say the trucks’ names, especially when we get to the “giant excavator.”
Oma was passing through our part of town and stopped for a short visit. She was here at the perfect time to read a couple bedtime stories to the kids: