Why it just might be okay to let your kids not finish books

Full disclosure: this had been a HARD topic for me to make peace with.

All things books and reading colored so much of my childhood, then my college years as a literature major, followed by countless classroom lessons (as a teacher) born from beloved stories. Then, of course, a shift in life to beginning The Book Shelf.

If you have been reading along with my Thursday blogs, you will have (not so subtly) picked up on the fact that reading has also grown to symbolize the love and bond between my son and I. It has never seemed to matter if the story was in an indestructible board book, an early reader with enough sight word repetition to make some go loopy, or a meaningful chapter book to share. Some nights, even, that love can be experienced by us snuggling under the covers before bed with our own independent reading in hand. Reading with Owen is one of so many ways I show my love, and is something I deeply hope he can look back on and still feel when he is older.

However, Owen's own independent journey as a reader has needed more of my encouragement and (yes, I will admit it) patience. I have already learned so much in parenthood, and one of those lessons has been to work on knowing when to take myself out of situations that don't 'need' me anymore. I have a feeling this lesson topic will follow me the rest of my mothering life in various ways, but for the purpose of this blog, let's focus on what this means in the world of reading.

Owen is a strong reader; he was eager to learn and build his reading fluency as a young student (we opted to learn from home during the pandemic, and being a part of his early reading journey was a gift). His early communication skills and pure interest in the people and world around him seemed to transfer naturally to the curiosity, connection and inference making that comes with the reading journey. Owen's reading stamina was hearty and the time we spent reading together each day never seemed enough. Which led me to be sure that because this young journey had been so enthusiastic, meaningful and rich -- Owen will surely count reading as one of his favorite things to do, right?

Yes and no.

I have learned that while he LOVES to share a reading experience together, to listen to me read aloud as much as possible -- to get Owen to independently choose and commit to a new book (i.e. one he has not read/ we have not read/ his teacher has not assigned) is an ongoing effort. There have been so many times that we have picked out a book at the library or a local bookshop only for him to put off starting it and/ or be 2 pages in and swear he "doesn't like it".

This was difficult for me and, truthfully, so frustrating at times. I couldn't understand why Owen 'just' couldn't read the book he chose, give new-to-him titles the chances he was continuously giving the books we read together or take the time he was using to re-read 'older' books and read NEW ones. Owen has always been such a persevering little guy, and I struggled to understand why this didn't carry over to him as an independently choosing solo reader -- and struggled to 'let' him not finish a book he started.

Over the course of his fourth grade year, a lot changed for Owen and I made it a mission to grow, too. He had the magic that is being placed with a teacher that believes in teaching to the whole person; and one that embraces reading and all of the emotions that come with it.

In his classroom, they had a wide and diverse classroom library that became an integral part of the dynamic. The teacher encouraged students to talk to one another about book recommendations, and the 'why' behind them. This teacher read aloud from various chapter books weekly, and felt comfortable in being vulnerable during these read alouds; being moved to tears more than once. He organized multiple book clubs, and eagerly listened to students' personal shares of books read. Over this time, Owen chose, read and spoke excitedly about books I would never have pictured him choosing. It was such a beautiful new experience to witness.

In turn, I learned and grew. By seeing how Owen's profile as a reader was inspired by another, as well as observing his person continue to mature and take shape -- I wanted to mature, too. I realized that it would be a tremendous, tremendous loss if my own preconceived/ experienced notions of what a reader 'should' do with a book chipped away at the loving, book-based bond we had built for nearly 11 years.

So here is what I learned:

1) It is more than okay to not let my kid finish a book. Just like every single person, subject or environment is not for everyone, neither is every book.

However, it is impossible to know that 2 pages in! So before Owen decides a book isn't for him, he has to give it a true effort. And in our house, that means that if he read a book for his 30 minute homework time, during our reading-before-bed-quality time or his free reading chunk of the morning at school -- he can leave the story if it just wasn't for him.

2) Proximity, proximity, proximity. Keep those new-to-your-reader titles in easy to see places. Just like that fourth grade classroom library was something Owen couldn't help but walk by every day, we have mini bookshelves (and even mini 'piles') scattered around the house because sometimes your kid does like to judge a book by its cover -- and then stay for the rest of it!

3) Re-reading is meaningful reading. As a teacher, I knew how important re-reading is for new knowledge and new book experience (we can often get different things from the same story based on where we are in life when we read). As a person, I knew how comforting it was to not just re-read a beloved book, but revisit ANYTHING that makes me feel good (i.e. a favorite TV show).

So why would I ever have thought that Owen continuously re-reading titles was a roadblock on the reading journey?! Any space that feels comfortable, exciting, laughter-driven and intriguing is a space I want my boy to find. What is wrong with familiar if it is feeding you in other ways? Not a thing.

4) Read together and take every opportunity you can to do it. (Okay, this isn't a new lesson but a blossomed one.)

Owen and I didn't bond over reading because I always chose the book, or told him we could only read certain types of stories. There has never been any boundary in our reading choices. Within the act of reading together, of simmering in the feeling of truly sharing something -- well it just means more. Period.

I had mentioned in a spooky season recommendations video last week that Owen asked to take down those Halloween picture books again this year; and it both slightly surprised me AND made my heart burst to bits. Over this month, he has asked for many of our nights to be spent reading them; and we are still laughing, still feeling cozy, still losing ourselves in the words and illustrations (after a decade).

This reading experience also made Owen curious to peruse a space on his bookshelf that he hadn't visited in awhile, and pulled out some family favorites such as Alexander, Who Used To Be Rich Last Sunday by Judith Viorst and Arthur's Family Vacation by Marc Brown. He gathered so many one night, that he asked to have our reading be all picture books. It was glorious, sentimental and meaningful.

Our lives have endless learning opportunities, just as the world of reading does. Give yourself permission for those journeys to change -- as well as the gift to experience both.