Our local public library challenged us to read one thousand books with Lanie before she entered kindergarten. Last night I read book #1000 with her. Here's a picture of us reading the last book:
While I'm glad to no longer have to remember exactly what we've been reading with her, I have certainly enjoyed all this reading we've been doing lately. We've read books that Lanie likes (books with Pete the Cat, Mickey Mouse, or the PAW Patrol); we've read books that Daddy liked as a boy (books by Dr. Seuss or Mercer Mayer); we've read books that both Lanie and Daddy like (Superman of Smallville, Dragons Love Tacos, Diggersaurs). We've read books from our house over and over and over again. We've visited grandparents and friends and gotten to read their books. We've introduced Lanie to the joy of looking for new books to borrow from the library. We've lifted flaps and studied pictures. We've encountered tricky names and big words. We've learned about everyday things and gone on grand adventures. We've used different voices to help tell our characters apart. After this many books I think it's safe to say Lanie—like both of her parents—loves to read. Soon she'll be moving on to even bigger and more complicated books, finding all sorts of things I've never heard or even dreamed of before. Hopefully her daddy (and my ever-growing arsenal of silly voices) is able to keep up. But if not, Mia still needs about 750 more books to complete her reading challenge, and we've got lots of simple books that will be new to her.
Grace and peace,
BMH
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