I Read Adult Books to My Kids at Bedtime…
I promise it’s not as weird as it sounds.
Every night after teeth are brushed and the lights are dimmed, we pile into bed for stories. It’s a ritual. My kids get cozy under the covers, and I crack open whatever book I’ve been reading that week—memoir, travel writing, quiet novels, sometimes something unexpectedly wild. I read out loud from the same book I’d be reading on my own time, only now, we share it.
It started as a practical experiment. I didn’t want to read another picture book. I wanted something for me. I thought, what happens if I just start reading my own book out loud instead?
Turns out, it works.
When Kids Hear You Love Something, They Learn to Love It Too
It’s not a lesson. It’s not a strategy. It’s just me, reading the books I love out loud at the end of the day. And my kids happen to be there for it.
They’re getting valuable exposure to big ideas, yes, but just as importantly, they’re seeing me love something. They’re witnessing what it looks like when a grown-up reads for joy. They hear the way my voice softens during the beautiful parts, how I laugh when a sentence surprises me, how I pause when something hits close to home.
They’re learning that books matter. That stories matter. That reading doesn’t end when you’re old enough to turn the pages on your own.
They’re not just hearing stories, they’re watching the way I love them.
These aren’t stories written for kids. And that’s the point.
I’m not trying to make them understand every sentence. I’m not pausing to explain every character. I’m just letting them hear what adulthood can sound like.
They hear someone wander around Europe for a summer.
They hear about someone moving to Colorado on a whim.
They hear about a woman who bought a food store, or someone who lives in a lighthouse, or who hikes a thousand miles alone just to see what happens.
Even if they don’t catch all the details, they’re absorbing something bigger.
They’re learning:
- Adults aren’t finished growing.
- There’s no single path to a good life.
- Curiosity and courage go a long way.
The bedtime effect
Bedtime is when our defenses drop. It’s the time of day when we’re most open to softness, to ideas, to daydreams. And so I fill that space with stories that stretch the edges of what my kids think life can look like.
Books like Be Ready When the Luck Happens, where Ina Garten quietly builds a joyful, meaningful life by following what feels right.
Books like Thru-Hiking Will Break Your Heart, where someone chooses discomfort and solitude to rediscover herself in the wilderness.
Books like Under the Tuscan Sun, where a broken season turns into a love story between a woman and her own life.
They’re not “kid books.” But they’re kind books. Expansive books. Books that plant little seeds, even if the sprouts won’t show for years.
Will they remember the plots? Probably not.
Will they remember the feeling? I hope so.
I hope they remember that books meant something in our house.
That stories were a way to end the day, together.
That they heard what reinvention, courage, and wonder can sound like.
And maybe one day, when life nudges them toward a different path or toward a bigger version of themselves, they’ll say, “I’ve heard a story like this before.”
This blog series is called Books That Build a Bigger World — One Bedtime at a Time. It’s where I share the books I’ve read to my kids at night—books I loved, books that made us all dream a little differently. You can browse the full collection and see what’s coming next.