How the love of reading passed down through generations continues to shape our family
From upside-down toddler tales to Shakespeare, cookbooks and autobiographies, our family's story with books is still unfolding — and it all began even before my children were born.
The Bedtime Chapter (and Before)
There’s something quietly magical about those moments before bedtime — when the lights soften, the world slows, and a story bridges the gap between day and dream. Our reading journey began with a bump, a belly, and the whimsical rhymes of Dr. Seuss. When I was pregnant, I would read aloud from Oh, Baby, the Places You’ll Go! by Dr. Seuss, which became a sweet way to introduce them to the world of stories, letting the rhythm and rhyme dance around us. It felt like a promise: this world is big, bright, and full of wonder — and books will always be a part of it.
When my eldest was born, bedtime reading was our special ritual. A cozy corner, a beloved book, and a connection that felt timeless. Then came our second child. Life got busier, but the books remained — and so did the magic.
One night, juggling the newborn in my arms, I watched as my toddler grabbed a book, plopped beside us, and proudly announced, “I’ll read to baby!” He opened it — upside down, of course — and began his own enthusiastic version of the story. It was full of imagination, expression, mispronunciations, and wonder. In that moment, I realised—this is how it begins. Not with perfect reading, but with joy.
From Picture Books to Paperbacks
Now, those two little ones are a teen and a tween. The board books are long gone, replaced by fantasy novels from J.K Rowling’s Harry Potter stories, Fantastic Beasts, The Dangerous Books for Boys, cookbooks, and even annotated Shakespeare. Our reading rituals have changed — no more lullabies or "Just one more page!" negotiations — but the love for stories has only grown.
We still share reading moments, just different ones:
Sharing new finds at the bookstore.
Browsing through our home shelves, with the kids often diving into my collection — sometimes out of curiosity, sometimes just because it’s there.
Flipping through cookbooks on lazy afternoons, dreaming up recipes (and sometimes even cooking one or two!)
And a moment I’ll never forget: watching one of them proudly reading their grandfather’s worn copy of Macbeth, fingers tracing the same lines once read by someone who nurtured my own love of literature.
A Legacy in Pages
That moment — my child, Macbeth in hand — brought it full circle. My parents raised me with books. They filled our home with stories, ideas, and freedom to explore them all. They gave me not just a skill, but a lifelong companion.
Now, watching my children make books their own — in their quirks, their curiosity, their quiet moments tucked into corners with well-loved pages — I see that the legacy continues.
Raising readers doesn’t require perfection. You don’t need fancy reading programs or Pinterest-worthy bookshelves. What matters most is the connection. The warmth of a lap. The laughter at a silly story. The feeling of being seen, understood, and loved through the pages of a book.
If You’re Just Starting Out…
Here’s what’s helped us nurture that love over the years:
Surround them with books — not as rules, but as invitations
Let them lead — even if it means reading Macbeth before they’re “ready” or flipping through a cookbook just to laugh at the weirdest recipe
Be a reader yourself — they’re always watching
Celebrate all kinds of reading — comics, captions, menus, subtitles — it all counts
Because when you nurture a love for reading, you’re not just teaching a child to decode letters. You’re giving them a lifelong passport to wonder, empathy, creativity, and connection — one story at a time.
Written by a book-loving mom of two, still collecting stories (and cookbooks) one page at a time.
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