Showing My Son I Love Him Through the Pages of a Book

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I began my new challenge tonight by reading aloud to my son. I haven't done it in a while. He's eight, and he reads a ton on his own. But, there's something about the connection between a parent, a child, and a story. Looking at the pictures, discussing the contents, asking and answering questions about conflict and themes. It's a nightly "teachable moment." And for a mom who struggles with being a mom...a mom who doesn't really much like to play (or maybe I've just forgotten?)...a mom who is frustratingly disconnected from the ones she loves, this is golden. My bookish tendencies, while introverted and solitary, can at least be shared with a willing listener.

Tonight when I offered to start a new book with my son, his eyes lit up. He showered quickly and found his seat beside me, snuggled up under the quilt on the couch. When I opened the cover and began, it was a blessed reminder of just how precious this time together is. He begged me not to stop when the clock showed his bedtime. But I wedged the cover flap between the pages and promised him another 20 minutes tomorrow night.

Twenty minutes. A blessed 20 minutes to show my son that I love him and appreciate spending time with him. Every night that he's home.