Online bookseller Bronte shares the joy she discovered in reading board and baby books together with a small person.

I’ve always thought of myself as an enlightened picture book reader. I’ve been buying them for my home shelves for the entirety of my adult life – years before I ever thought seriously about becoming a parent – and have often expressed my belief that illustrated books are for all ages. But for the most part, the books I bought were hardbacks to be read with careful hands – beautiful or thoughtful, clever or sophisticated, intricate or delicate. And while I read board books regularly for my work, and was occasionally impressed by one, I never bought any for myself or read one more than once.

Then, a couple of years ago, I had my first child; for the first time in my life, I began to browse baby books with serious intent. I brought titles home from the bookshop and the library to read with my three-month-old, then six-month-old, and now nearly two-year-old. And in discovering these books with a child in tow, I fell in love with them.

Reading with a small person forced me to approach books differently. I started to spend more time noticing the illustrations, lingering over the pages so that small eyes could observe, and pointing out details to explain things or ask questions. Sometimes my child would request we go to a specific page and then would bring the book right up so it was pressed against her face as though trying to see it as closely as possible. Sometimes I would come up with elaborate theories about the illustrations and their subliminal meaning.

Some books were interactive, ranging from the gently instructive Moving Your Body (‘Fly with your arms’, ‘Wiggle your bum’), to the highly playful Play with Your Plate!. Some were excellent for language development with handy ways to encourage a child to read along with you, such as with the helpful call-and-answer format of Kamsani Bin Salleh’s gorgeously illustrated What do you call a baby…? or repeated text of I am the Wolf and Here I Come!.

Some were beloved for their tactile materials. Bath books, cloth books and titles from the Indestructibles range were in demand for a time, and it was exciting to see my child figuring out just what a book was exactly. Some of my favourites to reread were adorable and silly (The Going to Bed Book), while others were warm and helpful tools for me when approaching big steps (Hair) or trying to explain difficult feelings (We All Have Feelings).

Now that my child is ageing up to more complex stories (she’s sat through Judith Kerr’s Mog the Forgetful Cat more than once now) she’s less interested in the baby books we have both been gazing at and – in her case – chewing on for past months. Sandra Boynton, Todd Parr, Leslie Patricelli – these are not necessarily the names you remember from when recounting your childhood favourites, but I hope I don’t forget how critical they’ve been at informing her love of reading now she’s older.