I too have an obsession. It's not as deep rooted or as odd as Daddy's love for vacuums, but it's an obsession nonetheless. I love to read. I'm pretty sure I can trace the root of this obsession to my awkwardly shy pre-teen years and a certain Babysitters Club series, but that's neither here nor there. Now? Give me anything from a smut magazine to the most recent best seller and I'll devour it like a pregnant woman eats a Twinkie. Or pickles.
I thought it would be awesome to pass along my obsession to Tyson early in life. You know-before he reaches those awkwardly shy pre-teen years cause I totally don't know what the male version of the Babysitters Club is.
So I read to him. Lots. I read my books out loud to him while I was pregnant so he could get used to my voice. When I was breastfeeding, I'd pick up the nearest magazine and read aloud to keep us both awake. I've read books to him while we were rocking and while he laid in his swing. I've read to him on his playmat and in his room. I've read to him while he rolled away from me and then ran away from me. I've read and I've read and I've read. And then I read a little bit more.
Just when I thought that my neurotic attempts at pushing books on my kid was in vain, Tyson brought me a book and signed more please. And then he brought me another book and then another. These days we honestly don't do much else around here BUT read. Book after book, more please after more please. Hour after hour of reading! My mission? It's accomplished-this kid is a total book worm.
Now if we could only find a good book or two about vacuums we'd all be happy.