#35 Storytelling by a housewife who isn't good with kids, for a housewife who isn't good with kids, for housewives who aren't good with kids

I have written before that despite having given birth to three children, I am actually not fond of children.

Actually, it wasn't that I disliked them from the start.
Originally, I was the type of person who would dote on friends' or relatives' children, thinking they were impossibly 'cute!' Furthermore, when I was in high school, I even participated in a childcare worker internship.

The realization that 'I might actually be bad with kids...' sadly sprouted after I gave birth to my own three children.

'Kids scream when things don't go their way, they can't read the room, and they think they're the center of the universe, don't they?'

Raising three monsters who were 0, 2, and 3 years old—too young to have been in this world for long—on my own, this frustration was always with me.
Children being selfish is probably 'natural' no matter which point in history you look at, but I couldn't suppress my own feelings of being unable to forgive that. This emotion is completely unreasonable, and I probably lack maternal instinct. I know that, but I can't stop it. That conflict is quite exhausting.

However, while spending days with noisy monsters every day, there was one thing that was fun.

That was reading picture books aloud.

Influenced by my father, who was a bookworm, I had a baseless value system that 'as long as a person reads books, life will somehow work out.' (Though, despite that, I only read manga from high school until I was 38.)

So, to get my children accustomed to books, I have been reading picture books aloud since my eldest son was 0 years old.

Generally, one would imagine reading to toddlers as using a gentle voice, a tone that invites sleepiness, and reading with lots of affection.

However, my storytelling is a little different.

For me, the time spent reading picture books was a space where I could gently dominate the children I thought.

Simply put, I read with the spirit of, 'I'm spending time on you, so you better listen up!♡'

In other words, during the time I read aloud, I would absolutely keep the children glued to the picture book.

Gentle books with full gentleness, sad books with full sadness, and scary books with full scariness.

As a result, it evolved into a very idiosyncratic style of storytelling, changing voice tones, adding inflection, and teasing them with pauses...

Consequently, the monsters who are usually noisy would sit silently and listen only when I read picture books.

Perhaps they were drawn into the world of the picture book. Or maybe, they were listening while feeling a bit of fear at the transformation of their mother, who was truly a 'one-woman theater troupe.'

The reason doesn't matter. Only when I read picture books aloud can I make all three children behave.
That is the fact that only at that moment, 'I am the protagonist.'
Looking back now, it was completely in the realm of intoxication.

Furthermore, intoxicated by my one-woman stage, I wasn't satisfied with just reading to my own children, so I volunteered to read picture books at elementary school.

When I was in charge of a first-grade class, I read with the determination that I won't let anyone here look away for even a second! I decided that if I made them feel even a little bit bored, it would be my loss, so I decided to fight desperately. I thought of it not as a classroom where children gather happily, but as a battlefield.

I would change my voice drastically for the narration and each character, making them think, 'Huh? Did this lady come out of NHK's Ohanashi no Kuni?

And, in parts where the page progression is a bit flat due to the picture book's structure, to ensure the children don't look away, I would switch to a strategy of making all the children look at the book whether they liked it or not by interjecting original questions like:
'Oh, I wonder how many pockets the kangaroo mom has??'
'Whoops, where is the tool the repairman dropped?'

It's okay, I can win.
Because I rehearsed three times the day before with my eldest daughter.

Of course, it goes without saying that it was a passionate performance that even made the teacher recoil.

Later, my second-grade daughter, who was mixed in with the children during that storytelling session, told me, "Mom, my friends and teacher said you're amazing at reading picture books."

On the surface, I happily replied, "Oh, yay! That makes me so happy," but deep down, I was feeling"Well, obviously. I'm in this to win it, after all."—a sense of arrogance.

I still continue this storytelling for my "former monsters," who are now 10, 9, and 7 years old. It's more of a reading aloud session now than storytelling.
I read books like "Momono Kanzume" by Momoko Sakura and "Dreams and Money" by Akihiro Nishino out loud.
Of course, compared to back then, the children have grown up quite a bit.
I no longer have to put effort into my reading; they listen to my recitations properly by my side.

However, there's a catch.
I still haven't grown up.

The strange desire to have many people listen to my storytelling... my reading aloud... is still overflowing. Unable to control that urge, I am now actually broadcasting my readings via audio streaming.

Of course, unlike the storytelling back then, I have absolutely no "intention to dominate the listeners."
I record daily with a slightly more decent reason: "If I'm going to be allowed to read in front of people, I want to read wonderful works in a voice that is easy to listen to."

As I continue these reading broadcasts, I've discovered a new joy in connecting with authors and listeners.
Authors tell me, "I'm glad you read my work."
Listeners tell me, "This story is really great!"

The number of people didn't matter. Knowing that I could deliver "something," even just a little, to even one person through this clumsy reading, I was finally able to think from the bottom of my heart that "reading aloud is fun."

At the same time, there is a part of me watching from the sidelines, thinking, "Once you hit 40, you get pretty thick-skinned and brazen, and you become able to put out content like this."

For now, I think I have graduated from "Storytelling by a housewife who is bad with children, for a housewife who is bad with children, and for a housewife who is bad with children."

(With that said, I'll do my best to post every weekday on Note and Stand.fm in June as well.)