Books for Babies--Are they Really Necessary?

Before we had our first son Kieran, who is now four years old, I was an early childhood educator and a serious reader. I was also aware, at that time, that there was a growing effort through such groups as the International Reading Association to nurture babies with books; board books were just becoming popular. There was even a program in our small Saskatchewan community that the local Reading Council ran called "Books for Babies" in which moms were given a free picture book and educational literature on the benefits of reading to their babies. I thought that it was a lovely initiative, but I still was not convinced that babies would benefit from books. I actually believed that most of the moms would put their books away on a shelf until their child was a more appropriate age for reading. It was not until I had my own children that I began to understand the wonder, joy, and benefits that sharing books with babies can bring.

It took a while, but the moment of understanding came for me one day as I walked my crying infant son home from the local library. He cried hard for three very long blocks. I was beside myself with all kinds of emotions I didn't know what to do with--guilt (I'm a horrible mom to have a crying baby), shame (I'm feeling some resentment here, and I hate that I'm feeling that way), embarrassment (people were looking at us, did I just see someone shaking her head at me?), and sheer frustration (I don't know what to do!). Then, suddenly, I did know what to do.

I began repeating a rhyme from the board book we had just been reading at the library. The line was, "[w]e are on our way, we are on our way home." I kept repeating that one line over and over again, and something amazing happened. I started feeling better. Kieran was still crying, but I wasn't worried anymore. There was something soothing about repeating that little rhyme that kept me going--it soothed my panic and gave me the strength to keep walking the rest of the way home. After a bit, Kieran dozed off, and that line just kept playing itself out in my mind. I felt as if I had found a magic key and it opened the door to all sorts of rhymes and fingerplays I had forgotten about. Oh, the possibilities of board books and the wonderful words and images they held for my baby. . . .