Bedtime Books and Goodnight Moon

I hope someone read to you when you were young. It’s such a gift for little ones. My parents said they used to read to me so often that I would memorize the picture books. They said they’d tease me by trying to change the words, but I would always correct them (thereby proving that I’ve been insufferable know-it-all since birth). 

Bedtime Book Routine

My husband and I often read books to our kids throughout the day, but sometimes things get busy and we don’t get around to it. But even busy days end with bedtime books. Many, many bedtime books. I think our bedtime book routine is getting stretched longer every night. 

And do you know what? That’s (mostly) fine with me. There are more relaxing ways to spend that time, but there aren’t many better ways.

After much reading, many shenanigans, and even more rigmarole, the time finally comes for the last book of the night. By then, the kids may be wound up, but we adults are plum tuckered out. No doubt about it—it’s time for those feisty little angels to get their halos in bed.

The Sacred Last Book

That’s why the last book of the night really matters. Frankly, I want the last book to be borderline boring. Each successive page of that sucker should add a 10-pound weight to my kid’s eyelids. The last page had better be greeted with stillness and snores. Most likely mine, but hopefully theirs, too.

That’s a lot to ask of a book, but there are a handful of gems that can be counted on to do the trick over here. Ole Risom and Richard Scarry’s I Am a Bunny, Brianna Caplan Sayres’ Where Do Diggers Sleep at Night?,  and a few Usborne books are some regular superstars in our house. 

But lately we’ve found another contender for Best Last Book of the Night: Goodnight Moon.

Awesome for 85 Years

Goodnight Moon was written by Margaret Wise Brown and illustrated by Clement Hurd way back in 1947, a fact which I myself just learned. Of course good things are still being published today, and some of it is even last-book worthy (like The Night is Deep and Wide, by Gillian Sze and Sue Todd). But Goodnight Moon meets all of my qualifications for a great last book:

• Lyrical and repetitive
• Not long or tedious
• Calm and soothing

And—bonus—the pictures get darker as the pages go on. By the last page, the room in the book is dim, still, and peaceful. It’s the perfect segue for switching out the lamp, depositing the squirming child into the crib, and listening to her babble and bump while I hit the sack myself. 

The Hidden Magic

If you try to dissect the appeal of Goodnight Moon, you’ll likely end up scratching your head. Half the pictures are plain black and white, and the other half are of the same scene again and again. Some of the items being wished goodnight are outdated. (A bowl of mush? An old nanny in a rocking chair?) And, frankly, there’s no plot, no moral to the story. 

So why on earth is Goodnight Moon an undisputed classic? I think it’s partly nostalgia, partly skill, and partly magic. The words are methodical, lulling, almost hypnotizing. They can (and should) be murmured slowly. The plotless story and predictable illustrations form a cozy combination that’s sure to quiet little minds and bodies. If Goodnight Moon doesn’t knock ‘em out, then they’re just not tired.

An Enduring Classic

The book market is ever-changing. Today’s agents and publishers would most likely reject Goodnight Moon on the (justifiable) grounds that nothing happens. Nevertheless, someone way back in 1947 saw potential in the book, and we’ve all been the richer for it. Who knows—maybe they even saw the magic. Either way, it’s a bedtime favorite around here, so I’m thankful the book made it into print many moons ago.

I know a screen is a rotten substitute for a book, but if you don’t have Goodnight Moon on hand, try giving this video a watch. Just make sure you’re not driving or operating heavy machinery at the time. It’s sure to make you say, “Goodnight, Moon.”