Hubby was talking the other day about how he can't wait for the boy to get a bit older so he can start sharing some of his favourite movies with him, Star Wars, The Goonies, The Princess Bride, all the 70's and 80's classics that helped to make Hubby's childhood. And of course with the magic of DVDs and big screen TV's it's easy to do at home. I think when the boy is old enough, he'll really love it, and I love the fact that there will be something that hubby and the boy can bond over by themselves.
It's not that I won't watch the movies, I mean who doesn't love The Princess Bride? (“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means” and “never get involved in a land war in Asia”). But my childhood wasn't defined by movies and TV, it was defined by books. I love to read, in fact if I had my choice, I could quite easily sit and read all day, and on occasions when I've got a new book that I'm really into, I find myself encouraging the boy to have a long stretch of quiet time or a nap so that I can read more! Not the best parenting moments, I'll admit.
So I love the fact that the boy is now old enough that he's really into books, and I can start sharing some of my favourites from when I was little. Little Miss Bossy gets read quite a lot, (especially since the boy seems to have inherited that trait...) and we both love Eric Carle and the caterpillar that turns into a beautiful butterfly. When he gets older, I'll be pulling out my collection of Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys (have I mentioned I've kept almost all of my books from as far back as I can remember, I'm bit of a pack rat) so that he can discover the Secret of the Old Clock along with Nancy, Bess and George. Even better is that some of my favourite authors have also written children's books so we can share the same sense of humour and giggle at the same things. (Terry Pratchett's 'Where's My Cow?' is currently on our nightly reading list) On the flip side, there are some not so great kids books out there, that just grate on my nerves having to read out loud. Some of these of course, are the ones that the boy wants to hear over and over and over again. On a daily basis. Sometimes hourly. But as much as it drives me crazy to keep saying “Banana”, anything that fosters a love of the written word in the boy can't be all bad.
So while hubby and the boy bond and learn the 'Truffle Shuffle", you'll also find the boy and I curled up under a blanket, reading. Maybe we'll be sharing one of his books, or perhaps enjoying some peace and quiet while we each delve into our own favourite authors. And if the boy turns out to be anything like me, then it won't be bad parenting on my part if we are both reading and ignoring everything else right?