By Sabrina Stockrahm
Cici “reads” to her cousin, Ryker. She may not understand the letters on the page, but she tries to tell the story.
At one and a half years old, my daughter, Cici, has found ways to reignite my passion for life.
Whether it is sprinting through the house to give me the best hug ever after work or poking me in the face while I’m asleep and telling me to “dit up,” she is almost constantly making me smile and laugh. On the roughest days, I know it’s all worth it because I get to go home to my daughter and husband.
What I didn’t expect is this little girl who barely knows more than 30 words could remind me how much I loved reading.
I spent most of my childhood with my nose buried in a book. I was always the top reader in my class. I distinctly remember a pizza outing in sixth grade with my teacher and one other student for reading the most books during the school year. As I entered adulthood, I would spend every spare moment with a book in hand -- even when I wasn’t supposed to.
But, I would say it’s been upwards of two years since I’ve read a full book. While Logan sits next to me with a book in hand, I often find myself scrolling through social media or watching television mindlessly.
I spend all day working with words. Not only my own words, but every person’s I come in contact with. I am constantly writing and reading throughout the day, and the last thing I want to do is go home and muddle through more words, while also trying to keep track of a wild child who is still learning her footing while at the same time figuring out she can climb on chairs.
In recent months, Cici has been bringing me the wooden books she once used as a teething toy. She wants mommy and daddy to read books to her. So, every night we read her princess books, we read the ooh-ooh book (Five Little Monkeys), we read “You Are Special” and whatever else book she can track down in her room.
The excitement in her eyes when we read to her makes my heart melt. In that moment, it’s just the two of us gliding through the words on the page.
Recently, she has started to disappear and I’ll find her sitting in random places around the house with her books sprawled out between her legs, looking through each page and acting like she is sounding out the words.
It wasn’t until last weekend that it hit me just how much she loves her books. Her six-month-old cousin, Ryker, was spending the day with us. I sat him on the couch behind me, and she crawled onto the couch next to him and opened up the pages of “The Foot Book.”
She spent the next 20 minutes trying to read to him. Together, they flipped through the cardboard pages until they reached the end. Cici is so young, yet seems to grasp things far beyond her years.
So, here I am at 30-years-old, relocating a passion that I had forgotten I lost. I found a book this weekend that I’ve placed on the table on my side of the couch. I plan on picking it up the next time she sits down to “read” her own book.
Sabrina is the editor of the Greene County Daily World. She can be reached at email@example.com.