I love books. My mom, however, loves books more than I do. We grew up surrounded by books. A vast collection of Golden Books, The Berenstain Bears, and our favorites, The Monster at the End of this Book, The True Story of the Three Little Pigs, and Dr. Suess's, There's a Wocket in my Pocket. When I grew older, I owned and read every single edition of The Babysitter's Club, and would spend many a nights curled up on the far end of the living room couch, crying my eyes out to another sad ending of a Lurlene McDaniel book. Lori Wick's, A Place Called Home, will forever be a favorite of mine, and I now love introducing new books to my students at school.
I hope to instill this same love of books to my kids. And with the collection of books I have already accumulated for Little J, I have a feeling it won't be a problem.
This past weekend at my baby shower, my mom added a couple more books to his collection. A classic, Where the Wild Things Are, and, Little Boy, a book by Alison McGhee. It wasn't until Sunday morning that I sat down to read this little treasure that I realized what a great gift this was. Before I knew it, I was sitting in my chair, with tears rolling down my cheeks, so thankful for this little boy in my life. The sweet little illustrations of a shaggy haired boy in rain boots, the simple words, and the way the author captured the innocence of childhood are so sweet.
I can't wait to chase a dirty-footed little boy, fill his little sippy cup, and count animal crackers on the couch. I can't wait to turn a cardboard box into a vast pirate ship, or a house for a toad, or a tower to knock down. I can't wait for wagon rides, untied shoes, and starship pajamas. I can't wait for all that is this little boy...
Thanks, Mom, for a sweet book I could read over and over again. And for all you mommas with little boys out there, this is a must-have.
Little boy, so much depends on...
your yellow cup,
a serenade to wake you up,
sun that slants the rug,
the wings on that astonishing bug,
and your big cardboard box.