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Audiology - an unexpected update

Bedtime stories

One of the things I looked forward to the most before having children was getting them into books. I'm still hopeful, I mean they already love them... They're just really shit at listening to them.

As a child I would definitely have classified as a bookworm, happily boasting about the great classics being my preferred reading material from my tweens and onward. English literature was one of my favourite classes at school and back when I had time and energy to read most books were read from start to finish within 24-48 hours. Yes I was that child hiding a torch in my bed, forever having my mum come and knock on the door to tell me it was lights out time. I LOVED reading and escaping into other worlds. To this day I refuse to throw out books and while I love lending others reading material I loathe it when I have to chase them. I'm even known to write my name in the front to avoid excuses these days & I warn people that I want my baby, sorry, I meant book, back when they're done reading it.

I'm always disappointed if I've been gifted a book that doesn't have a short message by the giver (even just a "to + from" will satisfy me!), I've started writing in them after now if nothing has been marked already. It goes without saying that I write something at the beginning of every book I give, whether it's to friends or family. I had lent a book out today friend recently, she'd posted me the book back full of post-it notes so she could share with me all the quotes and bits she liked. I have no words for how much joy it filled me with to flick through. The only thing that could have made it better for me was if she'd actually written in my book. I have plenty of books with highlighted sections and little notes, I love having that dialogue with myself when rereading something.

To me books are treasures, but unlike many other treasures they are ones that show their worth to the reader by how worn they are. My parents used to moan at me because I rarely used bookmarks (they fall out most of the time!), instead I have ways preferred folding the corner over. I've even got a system where I could pages if I don't have a pen to take notes on me! The spines of my most loved books look like they are in such a sorry state, and it fills me with a strange delight and pride. To me it shows that they author has pulled me in so far I've had to grip onto the book as if for dear life. If it's been soaked in bath water or tea you know it's a winner, if it's been for a bath multiple times it is out of this world. Two authors have managed to pull me in to their work time and time again to this extent, J.R.R. Tolkien, and even more so my and my biggest hero, Neil Gaiman. Many others have drawn me in, but none other could I read over and over again without ever tiring. The fact that Gaiman writes for children and adults alike is beyond a big deal to me, I bought most of his children's books before our eldest was even 6 months old because I was so excited to share them with her. To be fair to her she has mostly been a pleasure to read to, until lately when it's just become complete and utter mayhem.

As I said, the thing about parenthood that I looked forward to the most was story time. When I babysat the kids I looked after always loved my reading, I think I'm pretty good at it as I love getting all dramatic. I made a point of spending most of our days together with my eldest looking at books and she could sit still(ish - she's a fidget by nature) and listen to things beyond her age no bother. It was fine to start when her little sister was born, but it turns out our middle child has NO interest in sitting still to listen. Don't get me wrong she loves books, she'll bring you piles and demand they be read but if her big sister is about (which she always is at bedtime) she starts climbing the furniture (literally). I won't give her all the blame because they are as bad as each other for distracting one another. Throw in their baby brother to the mix who is a crawling and climbing machine... No one ever just sits and listens, even the shortest of stories are a struggle. It doesn't matter how fun mummy is being (and this is one of the only times I am genuinely fun so it's a shame they bugger it up all the time!), they just turn the whole thing into one of my least favourite things about parenting... Or at least the day.

I know we're in a tough stage with a baby, toddler and 4 year old; it's not like any of them have an attention span by their very nature. It's just funny how different parenthood can be from your expectations. It's not like I get around to reading anything for myself these days, reading children's books is all I've got but fingers crossed they turn into bookworms that lie under their covers with a torch despite all the fights now. Fingers crossed they start to really enjoy cuddling up and listening to mummy read. Fingers crossed they one day appreciate the HUGE book collection they've already got.

It's definitely not going to happen this bedtime, the next or the one after... But one day I hope they love books as much as I have!

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