When my daughter was a wee one she hated going to sleep. We had a great bedtime routine, and she always went off to bed happily, but just couldn’t make that step from awake to lying quietly to asleep. We always had a story in the routine, but I found that picture books just kept her sitting up and awake and turning pages. For a while I would read a couple of picture books and then sing to her until she started nodding. They had to be long songs too. No cute little lullabies, or she would just end up demanding “MORE!” We’re talking Stairway to Heaven and American Pie here. To my surprise she has turned out quite musical. I would have thought only someone completely tone deaf could tolerate my singing for any length of time. As an aside – my son, who is really not into music at all, would cover my mouth when I tried to warble to him. I think “Don’t sing Mummy!” may have been his first complete sentence.
Finally after about a year of dubious renditions of rock ballads, I decided enough was enough, and hit upon the idea of reading some novels aloud to my daughter. We started with some Blyton, but they were a little too interesting and not conducive to sleep. I delved further back into the classics and we read Little Women together, quickly followed by Anne of Green Gables. The beauty of the older stories is that they have a lot of descriptive passages. What better way to nod off than by listening to the Anne-girl waxing lyrical about the countryside around Avonlea.
It was also a lovely way to share books that I thought may not appeal to her by the time she was old enough to read them by herself. Together we read Black Beauty, The Secret Garden, Peter Pan and even R.M. Ballantyne’s The Coral Island. As she got older, we continued with modern tales like Harry Potter and Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events. Now she is twelve, we are enjoying teen fiction with themes we can discuss together. We recently finished The Hunger Games and have started Tomorrow When the War Began, and have come full circle – once again she is sitting up excited, wanting to hear “just a little bit more”.
For parents who want to kindle a love of reading in their children beyond the picture book age, I suggest taking some time to read novels together. There’s a real sense of intimacy when sharing a story. Even on the nights when I just want to send them off to bed while I curl up with a glass of wine, to look up and see their eyes mirroring my own tears as I read a poignant scene, or smiling with delight at a hero’s moment of glory makes it all worth it.
Which of your favourite books are you looking forward to sharing with your kids? Which have you shared already?

Oh, I agree! Couldn’t agree more! Mr6 and I are reading Harry Potter – not conducive to sleep. But I think The Secret Garden will be next…
That’s the trouble with the exciting ones isn’t it?
We started HP about then – was nice to read them before she saw the movies. (I am a book then movie stickler. Hate doing it the other way around.)
Great post! We are a big reading stories family here but boys still young and at the picture book stage. Having two boys I’m not sure my ‘girly’ books will translate. I’ll probably read HP to the boys – will be my first time too so we’ll discover them together.
As I child I detested being read to and read on my own as soon as I could – and chose my own books in opposition to my parents’ suggestions. Hopefully at least one of my boys will be happier to share this experience than I was.
Perhaps together we’ll read the Rudyard Kipling books my Dad fought but failed to read me.
We haven’t done Kipling yet, which was a shame when we read the (absolutely amazing) Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman. That is one for the boys when they are a bit older.
My son enjoyed the Phantom Tollbooth and anything by Roald Dahl. Funny enough to get them listening while they are too young to read themselves.
I found this post through Twitter, and I had to comment: my happiest childhood memories are of my Mum reading to me. My favourites were The Secret Garden, the Famous Five books – but especially The Hobbit.
When I was really young, I was obsessed with Fox in Socks, and I roared with laughter watching my poor parents try to read it to me, night after night.
My parents started buying me books before I was old enough to read them…so I chewed them instead (c:
I don’t have children yet, but I’ve already started a list of the books I want to buy when I do…
I discovered a great photo of me at about 8 months sitting in my pram holding Fox in Socks. It was always my favourite (and tastiest!) Seuss.
My dad used to tell my brother and I made up stories based on the hobbit. He called his protagonist Barney the Hobbit – perhaps fearing some kind of copyright lawsuit if he used Bilbo.
*Barney* the Hobbit – love it!
My Mum got sick of reading the names of all the Hobbits – Bifur and Bombur and so on – so she gave them all new names she could pronounce properly.