Loving Picture Books as a Grown Human

Until recently, I have paid no attention whatever to children's picture books--and the last time I had looked at one with any interest was certainly sometime in my own childhood. But with the birth of my cousin's two little girls--the only children born to my generation in my family with whom I have any real contact--I started picking up picture books again, at first simply to find gifts for my baby cousins, but as time went on and they got older and graduated from board books to glossy picture books, for my own reading as well. 

In the beginning, I didn't pay all that much attention (I'll tell you what--despite my new appreciation for picture books, the baby board book is, I think, still interesting pretty much only to its primary audience), but a couple of years ago I was staying with my parents for a few weeks and found my mom's shelf of picture books she keeps around for when those cousin babies (to her, grand-niece babies, of course) come around. And I sat down with a stack of them and wiled away an hour or so. And what a delightful hour it was. Some of the books thrilled me because of their illustrations, some for the whole package, the way story and pictures worked together. And I felt I was definitely filling a hole, if a small one, in my reading life with those picture books. And not one born of nostalgia, not really--none of the books I read that afternoon were leftovers from my own childhood (though a few of those *are* kicking around). No, it was just the joy of picking up a story, and reading it in one go, and pausing after every few sentences to take in an illustration of what the sentences were saying. It was fun, and relaxing, and plain nice.

So I read picture books now. Since I have no children of my own and live too far away from my little cousins to share books with them regularly, I read whatever strikes my fancy (and I never have to read the same book over and over and over, which I gather is a hazard which comes with sharing the delight of books with young children). Mostly I take the books out of the library, sit down with a stack, and read them one after the other--just as I did that first time with the books from Mom's shelf. I love getting to read three or four or five stories right in a row and love the knowledge that if the first one doesn't wow me, I have another one on deck. I'm supporting my library in ways I wasn't before. I'm reading stories I never would have otherwise. I'm choosing books from a variety of lists of "bests," including bests from many communities and cultures I might otherwise not read much from. I feel like I'm winning all around.

The last time I picked up a stack of picture books at the library, several members of my book club were with me. To a one, they expressed confusion at my choice to read children's books without any children. I tried to explain, but just got weird looks. Ah, what they are missing.