We have a small wooden rocking chair, one which used to be mine, that my mother had saved over the years. She gave it to us when Xander was born. As a girl, I used to always read in it. So as an adult, I put it next to the chair we keep in our dining room, next to the bookshelves.
No one ever sat in it.
I tried putting it in their room.
No one ever sat in it.
And I realized: they only read with us. In our laps or next to us. Hard as I try, neither of my older boys will pick up a book and read as their solitary activity of choice. (At least, not yet.) They'll pick up a ball, a LEGO piece, a paintbrush... anything but a book, really.
So I decided to rethink things, and think about where that chair would really be used.
I put it in the living room, next to the train table, with a view of the TV.
They sit in it all the time. They watch movies in it. Argue over who gets to sit in it while playing video games. Try to lift the baby into it.
Just another reminder that I can't recreate my own childhood in that of my sons', I guess. They're definitely their own little people.
And what distinct individuals these little people are! A new generation with new ideas of their own.
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