Childhood Reading Memories

So who remembers exactly all of their childhood? I don’t remember much about my past but I do remember learning how to read. I would be sitting there while my mother, my godmother, and my daycare teacher read to me.

            When I was younger my mother and godmother kept a book in their hands, and they still do. When I was first born, my grandmother told me that my mother already had a book in her hand. I’m not sure if that’s one hundred percent accurate but I got where she was coming from.

            I was one of those kids who grew up around books. Everywhere we would go, my mother had something to read nearby. If it wasn’t in her purse then most likely it was in the glove department of the car or in the trunk. She didn’t mind reading anywhere she had the chance. She would even read while we were eating. She was a bookaholic.

            I guess that’s how my reading life began. If she had a book in her hand and my brother or I was around I’m pretty sure she read aloud. I was fascinated by the way she could speak so effortlessly. It was like she mad a magic mouth or something. I would just stare into her mouth as she spoke word from word.

            Before I knew it I was trying to mimic my mother. Like every other child, I started off reading by holding the book upside down. I was too young to know any better. My mom made sure she corrected me though. I would just hold a book like I was the one actually reading it while my mother was reading another one to me. Don’t get me wrong though, my godmother was also a very important part of my reading life.

            My godmother and my mother were just alike. She like reading books too. Even if I didn’t like reading, I had no choice but to begin to like it. Books were all around me. The difference between my mom and godmother was that I actually pronounced my first word out of a book when I was with my god mom. At the time she didn’t have any children of her own so she treated me as her little princess. I got whatever I wanted. But, unlike most children, I wanted to be able to read like I saw her and my mom do. So if I asked for a book, I got it.

            That’s why we spent so much time together. I was a little spoiled brat. All day I was just want to sit in my favorite high chair and read. Well, try to read. I thought I was too smart for my own age.

            Shortly after I began kind of pronouncing and recognizing words from books, I began daycare.  Daycare was also a big part of me learning how to read. I was there for about eight hours a day. I was at a placed filled with toys and bookshelves. I was never the normal child out the bunch so of course I picked the bookcase instead of the noisy, little toys. All I remember was staring at those books, being too short to reach one and thinking will I ever be tall enough to get one down myself. Until one day, my daycare instructor picked me up and let me pick a book. The first time she would read the sentence out of the book, and then after that she would point to each word, say it slowly and then I would attempt to repeat.

            Everybody thought I was pretty darn smart to be only four. I don’t know a four year old today that would be that interested in a book.

            I started kindergarten the next year. I would already spell and recognize my name when I saw it. I could also read a little. Only certain words though.  But that didn’t matter because my mom told me I was still ahead of most of my peers. The new words I learned, I shared with my mother each day that I learned them. And therefore on, I just continued to read and say little word and sentences. Shortly after that I was up in age and reading books my mother would choose.

            So without my mother, my godmother, and Ms. Ann, my daycare instructor, I wouldn’t be the reader I am today. Like I said, I don’t remember much more of my childhood but I did remember those things. Those things kind of stuck with me. Today, most of my spare time, I’m either reading a book or getting told by a teacher to put it away because of other work. I’m glad I grew up around books because if I didn’t, I think that I would have missed out on all the wonderful places a good book could take you.