I originally published this post on February 12, 2021. I have edited and updated it, and though I no longer have little littles, we still follow the basics outlined here, and the heart of my strategy around reading routines remains the same.
It’s not hard to find evidence that reading to kids matters — what’s hard, actually, is overstating the significance of the read-aloud experience. I believe this to my core and on some level (maybe the same level), you must too — you subscribe to this newsletter about children’s books and the magic of reading aloud, after all — but sometimes it’s worth reminding ourselves just how important it is.
This may be especially true if developing a reading routine, or reading aloud in any kind of consistent way, is a challenge for you. If this is you, I encourage you to start small, wherever you are. It doesn’t matter if you read aloud for only five minutes a day, or ten minutes every other day. It doesn’t matter if you only have five books in your home. What matters is that you do it.
If you’ve got a good reading routine going but you’d like to tweak it here or there, or if you simply want a glimpse into what we do in our family, I hope the following helps.
Morning Time
Morning Time — also known as Morning Basket, Morning Meeting, Circle Time, Symposium, others I probably don’t know about — is a concept I stole from the homeschool world a long time ago. The extremely basic idea is that you fill a literal and metaphorical basket with all the good things you’d like to share with your children and set aside some time to do that, most days of the week.
It is, like many homeschool things, a nonsecular practice — as I have learned about and developed our own way of doing it, I have taken what I’ve liked and left the rest. (An approach I highly recommend with basically everything, including this newsletter and any advice I offer here.)
Establishing Morning Time was, at one point, the only way I could absolutely ensure that I read to my children every day. When I had a baby and a 2yo we would eat breakfast together, and when I was finished with my food, they would continue eating (in theory) and I read aloud for about 20 minutes.
About half the time, I would prepare a stack of books the night before, pulled from a shelf next to our kitchen table where I kept (and still keep) books I really wanted to make sure that we read (Hands Are Not For Hitting by Elizabeth Verdick; Teeth Are Not For Biting by Elizabeth Verdick; Your Sister Is Not For Screaming At, Pounding, or Taking Out Every Last One of Your Emotions On, an imaginary title I would still purchase today and should probably jut write myself).
I built in enough time in our pre-work-and-daycare day — yes, that meant getting up a few minutes early — so that we could eat and read together.
My children are now 9 and 7yo, and this routine looks much the same. We have our “word of the day,” which I take from an old Evan-Moor Word a Day workbook I bought at a thrift store. We read poetry — specific titles we pull out on the first day of every month (Around the Year by Elsa Beskow, even though I have no idea what so many people see in it, but my kids like it, and the pitch-perfect Once Around the Sun by Bobbi Katz, which I reviewed in issue No. 48), along with others, mostly related to seasons and holidays. We still read picture books because it’s truly important, even as they get older.
What I’ve learned about Morning Time over the years is two-fold:
It is an incredibly valuable practice. By doing just a little bit every day, you can build something substantial and nourishing for you all.
Start small.
And accept that it’s never going to look exactly how you envision it.
I’ve spent my energy (especially as a homeschooler) developing plans, which is simultaneously my superpower and a huge character flaw, and more than half the time we’ve ended up chucking my intentions and reading whatever the heck we want. This is okay.
Morning Time — all reading-together time — is, to me, first and foremost about relationship. I’m going to repeat that because it’s the single most important thing I want to convey: reading-together time is about relationship.
My goal — in every aspect of our life — is to infuse my children with the sense and the knowledge that they are loved and they are important. If, along the way, we also manage to cultivate thinking people who love to read and learn and thus have the tools with which to live a purposeful and rich life: great. It is more than enough.
Some of our favorite Morning Time books over the years:
All of Me by Molly Bang (I reviewed this in issue No. 12)
Before We Eat: From Farm to Table by Pat Brisson
Native American Animal Stories by Joseph Bruchac
Old Mother West Wind (issue No. 23)
Tell Me a Story: Stories from the Waldorf Early Childhood Association of North America, editor Louise DeForest (issue No. 10)
The Earth is Good: A Chant in Praise of Nature by Michael Demunn
Tales From Grimm by Wanda Gag
A Child’s Book of Poems by Gyo Fujikawa
Pass It On by Sophie Henn (issue No. 45)
The Owl and the Pussycat by Edward Lear and Jan Brett
Out and About: A First Book of Poems by Shirley Hughes
Therapeutic Storytelling: 101 Healing Stories for Children by Susan Perrow (issue No. 33)
The Giant of Jum by Elli Woollard (issue No. 73)
Wherever You Go by Pat Zietlow Miller (issue No. 6)
Bath time
I started reading to my eldest in the bathtub pretty much as soon as she could sit up safely on her own. Toward the end of her bath, after she’d had time to splash and play, I’d pick 2-3 titles, sit with my back against the tub, and take a few minutes to read them to her before getting her out.
For awhile I focused on titles that had big, graphic images she could easily see — I Love Bugs! by Emma Dodd was our #1 favorite — but when I realized that this was a time of maximum captive audience, I branched out to books I thought she might not sit through otherwise. Enter poetry (what else were you expecting? 😊 )
Bath time was really our poetry gateway. I made sure to choose poetry books that were enjoyable and visually interesting, but I also intentionally tried to expand beyond quotidian storytelling to the experience of beautiful language for beautiful language’s sake.
Some of our favorite bathtime books over the years:
Bubbles, Bubbles by Kathy Appelt
When the Sun Rose by Barbara Helen Berger (issue No. 13)
Maisy Takes a Bath by Lucy Cousins (reprinted as Maisy’s Bathtime; they’re the same book)
Turtle Splash! Countdown at the Pond by Cathryn Falwell
Bathwater’s Hot by Shirley Hughes (probably our favorite bath-time book of all time)
The Moon’s Almost Here by Patricia MacLachlan
The Tale of Custard the Dragon by Ogden Nash (issue No. 22)
Mouse of My Heart: A Treasury of Sense and Nonsense by Margaret Wise Brown
King Bidgood’s in the Bathtub by Audrey Wood (issue No. 73)
As of the update of this post, we have sadly (but also not sadly) passed the bath-time stage. Now if someone takes a bath (not me, I mean), it’s because they are ill or in such a foul mood, I add water. I miss those days (and I also don’t miss them at all).
Our bath-time reading was never a rigid routine. Sometimes I read for 30 minutes, sometimes not at all. If they just wanted to play, they played. If they asked to read, we read. The key to routines that don’t become a burden (for any of you) is to go with the flow of however you’re feeling.
(And the challenge is often when all the feelings don’t line up. I try very hard to say yes to the question, “Can we read?,” even when I am tired or cranky or need a break from whatever we’re reading repetitively. Sometimes it takes me a minute to get it together but I never, ever regret it.)
Bedtime
This is the truth: I am just absolutely done at bedtime. It is the hardest time of day for me as a mother, and I have zero energy for deviation from our routine.
I need to keep it simple so I can stay loving, therefore there is no negotiation: we read two titles (neither one of which takes more than 20 minutes — I am looking at you, Bill Peet books), and we don’t fight about it if someone doesn’t like a title someone else picked.
Now that my kids are a little older, we’ve added a poetry book — we read a few poems each night, not the whole thing — and a chapter or two from a longer book. If we are pressed for time, we might skip any aspect of this, but unless my husband and I are on the bathroom floor unable to move without vomiting, we read to our children every single night.
Fun fact: when fathers do the bedtime reading routine, kids benefit. In the eighth edition of Jim Trelease’s famous title, The Read-Aloud Handbook, Cyndi Georgies offers an entire (fascinating) chapter on “The Importance of Dads,” writing:
“The time a father spends with his child is one of the most consistent links to the development of literacy skills throughout the child’s schooling. Fathers have a profound impact on their child’s desire for reading and their success in doing so… bedtime read-alouds create one of the strongest bonding times, especially between fathers and sons. This positive influence is also experienced by their daughters.”
(So if you are a mother who is carrying around any guilt about letting your child/ren’s father do the bedtime reading routine: let it go! It’s good for everyone.)
On my Bookshop.org storefront, I have a list called “Books for a beautiful goodnight.” It is of course nowhere near exhaustive (my all-time favorite bedtime book, The Midnight Farm by Reeve Lindbergh, which I reviewed in issue No. 14, is out of print but worth tracking down used) — merely a collection of books I have loved reading to my children at bedtime.
Other times
Potty training
I highly recommend a basket of books next to the tiny training potty, wherever that is in your house, and a basket of books next to the toilet from then on. (I often found myself thinking, as I sat on a small stool in front of my child reading the fifth picture book while waiting for something to happen, “Well, this is a part of parenthood no one told me about.”) Hands up if you read in the bathroom ✋ Exactly. If you want to raise a reader, remember that reading can (and does) happen anywhere.
Waiting
For various reasons, we’ve spent a LOT of time in the waiting room of doctor’s offices. I don’t have to tell you it’s the worst.
So, read your way through it.
Generally I don’t care for treasuries — collections of either one author’s work or several, printed in one volume — because they tend to be bulkier than stand-alone titles and thus difficult (even painful) to hold. But treasuries are priceless for waiting rooms of any kind, because you only have to tote along one book, and they’re long enough to outlast the practitioner who is running heinously behind.
Our favorite waiting room titles:
Thornton Burgess Animal Stories by Thornton Burgess (this is the title I mean — it’s out of print but still available if you’re willing to look and wait a bit)
James Herriot’s Treasury for Children by James Herriot (I reviewed this in issue No. 22)
Frog and Toad Storybook Favorites by Arnold Lobel
The Helen Oxenbury Nursery Collection by Helen Oxenbury
The Jump at the Sun Treasury: An African American Picture Book Collection by various authors, published by Hyperion Books for Children (issue No. 29)
Traveling
For daily travel, I have always kept a small bin of books in the backseat, even before my babies faced forward in their carseats.
And we never drive anywhere far away without a huge bag of library books. A few days before a trip, I go to the library alone and look for the most visually interesting titles (seek-and-finds, which are getting better and better, are great for this). I also toss magazines into the book bag — Babybug magazine is my favorite for babies and toddlers; its sister publications from Cricket Media, Ladybug and Click, appeal to progressively older kids and are also superb. Ditto Nat Geo Little Kids and Nat Geo Kids, and Highlights. (Thank god for libraries. Full stop.)
Poetry teatime
It works like this: you sit down with your kids (at the kitchen table, in front of the fireplace, on a picnic blanket outside), a pot of tea (or any other beverage you want) and some treats (baked from scratch, out of a box, or store bought) and a stack of poetry books (they don’t even have to be poetry books), and you read them out loud. That’s it.
If it sounds really simple, that’s because it is.
If you wonder how it can possibly be special: try it and see.
Lastly, a note on organization
I wrote another deep-dive issue about storing and managing books (and creating reading nooks), which may be valuable as you reflect on your reading routines.
Organization isn’t the most important thing by any means, but it’s definitely a load-bearing wall in the structure of routines that are consistent, easy, and low on the energy-sucking spectrum for you (I need everything in my life to be as low on the energy-sucking spectrum as possible).
If you have a gorgeous tidy bookcase with titles organized by rainbow color, good for you. That’s not for me, but only because I have my own (messy, unknowable-to-anyone-else) system, spread across my whole dang house. Organization is about being prepared — so that if you find yourself with ten spare minutes or a child melting down, you can seize the moment (or take a moment) and read aloud.
This is especially helpful if you struggle with a reading routine, if you have good intentions but just can’t seem to make it work on a regular basis. This isn’t meant to be a source of stress for you — it’s meant to be the opposite. So organize in whatever way makes sense for your family — keep books wherever they will get read, even if that’s a weird spot. Set yourself up for success.
Today’s takeaways, or some things to consider:
Think about your reading routines (or one/s you’d like to establish)…
Are they working (happening with consistency, resulting in bonding and pleasure)? Why or why not?
Do you have any goals for your reading routines (e.g., a feeling of togetherness before you start your day, a peaceful goodnight, etc.)? What changes, if any, can you make to your current routine/s to better serve your goals?
Do your child ask you to read? How often do you say yes to this request? If not, why do you think that is? Do they have access to appealing titles?
Is there an unconventional time or moment in your day or lives in which you could create a new routine?
Does your system of organization (or lack thereof) support your reading routines? How can you make it all easier on yourself?
Ultimately, when all is said and done, I read to my children not only because I want to raise readers — and reap the multitudinous benefits that go along with that — but because I want to be with them, connect with them, and love them like crazy.
Kind of amazing that reading together can deliver all that, but it can. And a routine helps you make it happen.
You got this 💪
Sarah
P.S. All Bookshop.org links are affiliate ones — I get a little bit of money back when you spend money, which is a small, easy way to support this newsletter.
Great to read an update here. I love these “how”posts. We only read at bedtime, usually 40 min or so. About 20 min as a family and then we go up to rooms and trade off reading to each child individually. We still read to our 5 yo, while our 7 yo really loves reading to us. I have never been able to start a morning routine but somewhere between this post and your first version of the post, I realized they DO read in the mornings. They have iPads where the only thing they can do is access the Epic reading app (except when we’re traveling and Disney+ is 100 percent available). Most mornings they will choose a “read to me” book on the Epic app and while it’s not me reading, it’s audiobooks which I also think are valuable. Speaking of, we do audio books on road trips. And waiting at the doctors office, I always bring a book. Both amazing tips I got from you!! Thank you 🙏
There were so many points here where I found myself nodding but especially at the fatigue of the bedtime routine! We don’t read at bedtime (yet). We have reading time throughout the day but I just can’t handle it at bedtime. I feel absolved now, ha!
These are all excellent tips and I’m DROOLING at that lovely teatime spread (both at the yummies and the books)! What a clever way to incorporate reading into a cherished kid activity.