birthday books

The four-year-old elder lass's deep and abiding love for books is well-chronicled here.  She comes by it honestly from both sides.  So for her recent birthday, some gifts were a given.  She had one specific book request: The Pout Pout Fish by Deborah Diesen (I reviewed it here).  I took the liberty of selecting a few others, including a couple of Toot and Puddle books (review here); Sugar Cookies, one of the Cookie books (review here); and this feast for the eyes by Tasha Tudor:

Ms. Tudor was one of those illustrators whose prolific work is iconic -- it evokes feelings of nostalgia, beauty, and wonder.  In this story, two little girls are admiring their grandmother's antique doll named Annabelle and all her accoutrement.  Each page of this doll's alphabet is intricately adorned with details from Annabelle's dresses, furniture, and accessories to floral borders around each scene.  I could easily sit and stare at each page, but the lass urges me to turn and keep reading (or say "beep," much like the sound effect on an audiobook, so she knows to turn the page herself).

This beautiful book ranks high among my other favorite doll books and is one I hope the lasses will continue to pore over for a long time to come.

We weren't the only ones to think books would make good gifts for our lass.  She received, among others, The Tiger Who Came to Tea by Judith Kerr from her aunt and uncle.  I don't know if they knew beforehand, but this book is on my top five list of favorite children's books ever.  It is so charming.  Sophie and her "mummy" are having tea when they receive an unexpected visitor: a tiger.  He's hungry and asks if he may join them for tea.  Her mummy graciously welcomes the tiger inside their apartment (think London 1968, when this book was first published).  Sandwiches, buns, and tea aren't enough to satisfy the tiger; he goes searching for more food and effectively clears the apartment of anything edible as well as all the water in the tap.  When Sophie's daddy comes home, he takes the news pretty well and has a solution to their lack-of-dinner crisis.

Throughout the story, little Sophie is clearly smitten with the tiger.  The sweet illustrations are a soothing counterpoint to what otherwise might be a rather alarming story of a tiger showing up at one's door and proceeding to eat everything in sight (except the people, thankfully).

We had a great time celebrating the elder lass's fourth birthday with a vintage circus theme (based on the pink-on-the-inside tiger cake she requested).  These books are lasting reminders of that happy occasion. 

eight-legged empathy

Remember when I used to post reviews, usually on Mondays, of the books we've been reading and relishing together as a way of remembering those books that stood out from the scads we haul home from the library on a regular basis?

Yeah, I barely do myself.

So here it is, a few *weeks* (sigh) since I last posted anything, and already after Halloween (about which I've aired my true feelings before), and I'm going to talk about two books concerning, of all things, spiders.

Yep.  Spiders.

I try not to react to a spider sighting like this, but it takes *great* effort. 
from Sophie's Masterpiece by Eileen Spinelli, illustrated by Jane Dyer

I thought I was going to have to shelve this post for next year, but then I vanquished another one of those big ol' wolf spiders today.  I took that as I sign that a spider book post might still be relevant. 

So here we go...

who knew spiders were so fashionable?
Sophie's Masterpiece by Eileen Spinelli, illustrated by Jane Dyer

Both Sophie's Masterpiece by Eileen Spinelli (illustrated by Jane Dyer, who also illustrated the Cookie books we like so much) and Be Nice to Spiders by Margaret Bloy Graham seek to show the softer, more lovable side of spiders.  Spinelli's Sophie strikes out on her own and sets up residence in a boarding house operated by the lovely lady in the picture above.  After a few near-misses with residents who aren't exactly spider fans, Sophie finds one resident who doesn't wig out at the sight of the spider.  The stalwart young woman is knitting booties for the baby she is expecting, but Sophie sees to it that the baby has a soft blanket to sleep under. 

Spiders have redeeming value, apparently.
Be Nice to Spiders, by Margaret Bloy Graham

Graham's Be Nice to Spiders is set in a zoo where the animals are beset by annoying flies that leave the animals fussy and ferocious -- the animals without a spiderweb in the corner of their living space, that is.  Even though the zookeepers see the spiderwebs as messy-looking, it turns out the spider who spun them is relieving the animals of the nagging flies that vex them so, which is apparently similar to what those wolf spiders do here in the suburbs.  This knowledge doesn't exactly make me want to leave all the spiderwebs up in the corners of our house (not that there are any, ahem), but it makes for fun reading.  Published in the late 1960s, Be Nice to Spiders has that vintage charm and wide-eyed wonder thing going for it.  Such books are always fun.  We've also enjoyed reading the Harry books written by Gene Zion and illustrated by Ms. Graham (Harry the Dirty Dog, Harry by the Sea, Harry and the Lady Next Door, and No Roses for Harry!).

Try as they may to elicit some empathy for the eight-legged ickies that dare to cross the threshold into our home, Sophie's Masterpiece and Be Nice to Spiders are entertaining, if not entirely convincing.

temperamental, are we?

Navigating the murky waters of mothering four young, distinctive souls, I learned ago that no one method of approach works for every child. This is largely because every child is different, as nearly any parent of more than one child would acknowledge. Each child is unique and special, and each one is "wired" a little differently. This is the Lord's doing, as he has a specific plan and purpose for every life he wills into being.

With that in mind, I have been doing some reading (and re-reading) about the four classical temperaments and how to discern the defining characteristics of these temperaments in ourselves and those we know and love. I was first introduced to this idea which has its roots in ancient Greek medicine by a book called The Temperament God Gave You by Art Bennett and his wife Laraine. They've since authored The Temperament God Gave Your Spouse and The Temperament God Gave Your Kids. What I like most about these books is how the Bennetts take an ancient yet (one that many other researchers and theorists still utilize in their own work) and draw upon the writings of more recent sources as well as modern research in their application of Church teaching and the quest for virtue as a part of the Christian's journey toward heaven. 

Temperament is not the same things as personality.  Temperament is one of the factors in one's personality. Each of the four temperaments (choleric, melancholic, sanguine, and phlegmatic) has distinctive markers. Most people are a blend of one or two of the temperaments with one being predominant, but we can have characteristics of all the temperaments or cultivate skills that are inherent in a temperament other than our own.

Through the lens of faith we can think of these temperamental characteristics as the ways in which God crafted each of us in order to fulfill the purpose he has for our lives. We are not locked into the confines of our temperament's parameters; many other factors can influence our behavior. Our temperaments are simply how we feel about and react to people and situations by default. We can choose to behave differently, however, and sometimes we should.  Understanding these various factors is immensely helpful when it comes to tending to the temporal and spiritual needs of those entrusted to our care.

In a family, it's likely there are different temperaments interacting with each other.  God does this intentionally to help each member of the family, each with his or her own God-given identity and temperament, grow in virtue by strengthening both the things that come easily and those that do not. We are called to be patient with each other even as we challenge each other to overcome the weaknesses that are the flip side to our many positive traits, always mindful of the presence of Christ in each of us.

Each of us is a creation unique and precious to the Lord. We are not meant to all be the same, to handle things in the same way or experience life exactly as another person does. When I take the time to know myself better through prayer and discernment, including studying such time-tested ideas as the four temperaments in a faith-informed way, I am better able to be live each day as my true self, the one God created and calls me to be.

city slickers

Maybe someday soon the lads and my beloved will embark upon the fantastic journey that is The Chronicles of Narnia for their bedtime reading, but for now they are reading -- for the most part -- lighter (while still adventurous) fare. The Little House books weren't without suspense, sorrow, or drama, but that was about as much of any of those things the lads are up for at bedtime.

My beloved remembers reading adventure stories of the vintage variety by an author named Troy Nesbit. The Diamond Cave Mystery was my beloved's favorite, so when a search at our local library turned up nothing, I bought a used copy from that purveyor of any and all things (that would be Amazon Marketplace, which is a bit like rifling through untold numbers of garage sales for that which has been cast off but is still of some use to someone else) for Christmas two years ago I found it for him to share with the boys. They ate it up. According to the elder lad, "two boys find diamonds in a cave, and they try to find out who [the diamonds] belong to."

The younger lass is a willing book model, even if she doesn't read the tome herself -- yet.

 Given the younger lad's continuing fascination with horses and cowboys, I was thrilled to find another novel by Nesbit called The Sand Dune Pony. That's the current bedtime read, and from all accounts it's as good as the Diamond Cave Mystery (and not too soon for the younger lad, who had had enough of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books).  In this story a boy catches and "gentles" a wild horse. For these suburban lads who dream of the day they might live on "some land," this book is perfect.

These classic adventures are in the same echelon of heroic stories as the Billy and Blaze books by C. W. Anderson and the Little Tim books by Edward Ardizzone.  As we strive to steer our young squires on the right side of the high road, characters like those in Troy Nesbit novels are welcome passengers.

brown baggin'

School has started for our bambini.  The elder lad is in second grade now, the younger lad is a wide-eyed kindergartener, and the elder lass is going to preschool two days a week ('twas her idea).  So far things are going well, though I always brace for a harrowing adjustment time the first few weeks(!) of school as everyone gets used to the new reality.

Along with the earlier wake up call, school days signal a return to packing lunches.  The lads like to eat school lunch when breakfast is on the menu, but otherwise they take their lunch.  The elder lass has to take her lunch.

from Bread and Jam for Frances by Russell Hoban

Given my thorough treatment of picky eating preferences, I still try to keep things interesting as well as healthy and delicious in their lunchboxes. For ideas I pore over all the posts I can find on the subject, including this witty and informative post penned by my sweet friend Katie. I'm especially fascinated by the whole bento box movement, which places a premium on the presentation of food as a pathway to the food actually being eaten. I have yet to carve hot dogs into octopuses of cut out fruit in flower shapes, though. The closest I've gotten is my rainbow fruit skewer.

While some of the bambini are more open than others to variety in their lunchboxes (I won't name names), this passage from Bread and Jam for Frances by Russell Hoban (we are, by the way, big time Frances fans) neatly sums up the attitude of at least one of our bambini when it comes to branching out a bit:

"How do you know what you'll like 

if you won't even try anything?" asked Father.

"Well," said Frances,

 "there are many different things to eat,

and they taste many different ways.

But when I have bread and jam

I always know what I am getting, and I am always pleased."

Frances may not be open to spicing things up a bit (at least not at the beginning; I won't spoil the ending), but at least she and her friend Albert take a real lunch break to enjoy their food.

from Bread and Jam for Frances by Russell Hoban

With the prospect of recess looming for kids who are hungry but eager to burn off some pent-up energy, lunch is less leisurely, more pit-stop-esque, there's hardly time for doilies and tiny vases of violets...

living dolls

Our newly-minted two-year-old younger lass has long loved baby dolls of all sizes and types. Presently she favors teensy tiny (or "tinsy", as the elder lad used to say) "vintage" Strawberry Shortcake figurines and other diminutive babies, but the doll my great aunt made for me holds pride of place in the girls' room as well as in their arms.

When we read Rebecca Caudill's The Best Loved Doll, all three of us females in the family were smitten. In spite of its considerable length for a picture book, the sweet story held the attention of the three-year-old elder lass as well as her not-so-baby sister. The girl in the story is invited to a party one afternoon with instructions to bring her favorite doll. Prizes will be given to dolls in three categories, any of which the girl could win with one of her many dolls. As she wrestles with which doll to take, she keeps coming back to the doll she loves the most -- but who wouldn't be a contender in any of the prize categories. Knowing this, she takes her best-loved doll anyway.

Barbara McClintock's Dahlia is the charming story of a girl named Charlotte who lives in the early Twentieth century (as in 100 years ago).  She's not a girly girl.  She loves to make mud pies, play in the the dirt with her stuffed bear Bruno, and challenge the neighborhood boys to wagon races.  When her Aunt Edme sends her a frilly-to-the-max doll, Charlotte is less than thrilled.  The tomboyish girl gives the newcomer a stern talking-to about what they do and don't do at her house, then packs up the fragile-looking doll for an initiation into Charlotte and Bruno's rough and tumble ways.  Charlotte takes notice of how good-natured the doll is about all the dirty doings, imagining her smiling through the smudges on her face and snags in her dress.  Charlotte names her Dahlia, like the flowers Charlotte's mother fancies.   When Aunt Edme comes for dinner that night, Charlotte sheepishly shows her Dahlia, who isn't exactly in mint condition.  Aunt Edme's reaction surprises Charlotte, and Dahlia's place in Charlotte's heart is secured.  McClintock's beautiful watercolor illustrations are amazing to pore over.  We also like Adele & Simon and Adele and Simon in America, two stories about a sister and her younger brother. 
 

 

From the vast treasury of Little Golden Books come Little Mommy by Sharon Kane and Doctor Dan the Bandage Man by Helen Gaspard.  In Little Mommy a young girl describes in rhyming verse her days spent caring for her three dolls (named Annabelle, Betsy, and Bonny) and home.  Quite the industrious little girl, she cleans, bakes, teaches the dollies, takes them for walks, has a tea party with her neighbor, cooks dinner, and gets the dollies ready for bed, but not before calling Doctor Dan to come check on Annabelle, who gets sick with "the mumbledy bumps," according to Doctor Dan, but should be alright.

The Doctor Dan in Little Mommy doesn't exactly look like the title character in Doctor Dan the Bandage Man, who has red hair and a caring heart.  After his mother fixes up a scrape he earns in a "big backyard cowboy fight" with his friends, he goes on to bandage up his little sister Carly, her doll "with a rather bad bump on her head," and their father after an injury mowing the lawn with a push mower.  With the patina of prose written in a different era (the far-away fifties), these two sweet stories are perennial favorites of ours.  By the way, aren't Dan's mother's shoes flat out fabulous?  If you run across any like them, please let me know!

Our girls can be pretty girly (depending on the day) and delight in their tea parties, tutus, and dollies, but they're often found playing with Legos, trucks, and tools.  This juxtaposition of dollies and trucks in our house has become part of the usual vista, along with scenes like this one:

Surely Charlotte and Dahlia would approve.

for my favorite Anglophiles

With the London Olympics about to begin soon and my brother- and sister-in-law (the ones who lived in London for a while) about to arrive for a highly-anticipated visit, today I offer a selection of favorite children's books from across the pond.

Each one of M. Sasek's This Is... set of travel books for children is a trip of its own.  The books were written in the '60s, but some of them have been reprinted recently with necessary updates given in a list at the end of each book.  The fun watercolor illustrations and whimsical prose make these books great read-alouds to the younger ones, even if some of the references to historical events and people are obscure to the wee ones.  I find these books so charming and have been known to give them as gifts to adults (specifically This Is Edinburgh to my father, whose father -- my Papa Jack -- emigrated from Scotland with his family at the age of seven -- my elder lad's present age.) -- they're that fun.  With books on major cities of the world -- and Texas, oddly enough -- this series would be a fun collection to have if one had the shelf space.

My brother-in-law the Londoner once brought the elder lad (when the latter was an only lad) a stuffed Paddigton Bear and cup with super fun straw.  Thus began a long friendship with the bear from "Darkest Peru."  We've read most of Michael Bond's original story collections, listened to some of them on audiobooks, and pored over the picture books "for younger readers".  Suffice it to say, we are big fans of Paddington.

Dodsworth in London by Tim Egan. It's about a critter named Dodsworth who goes to London with his loquacious duck. They get separated when the duck gets on a double-decker bus without Dodsworth, who thinks the duck with the fascinator (who is the Royal Duck, pet of the queen) is his duck being silly. The pair end up lodging at Buckingham Palace at the queen's invitation.

What discussion of British children's books would be complete without mentioning Beatrix Potter?  Grandmare lent us her big book of Miss Potter's stories a while back, and we have yet to return it. 

As exciting as the Olympics are to witness, the best part for me will be the time spent with family in town for a too-short visit.  As with Britain's royal wedding a year and a half ago, the sporting events themselves don't affect me personally.  The connection to loved ones and opportunities to pore over good books with my bambini are golden.

family reunion

You know that scene at the end of Christmas Vacation when Chevy Chase's character Clark Griswold surveys the scene around him after all of his relatives have witnessed firsthand the collision of reality with his dream of a "fun old-fashioned family Christmas" and says in amazement to himself, "I did it."?

I can relate.

Last week our young family mounted an expedition unlike anything we'd done before.  We took a road trip.  Not just a short jaunt to visit my parents and sister -- a trip upwards of 350 miles.  Sure: other families have done this sort of thing plenty of times.  I myself was a veteran road-tripper by the age of five, driving more than twice that distance one way with my father (who did the actual driving) to visit our Chicago family before my Papa Jack passed away.  Still, this was the first time the family my beloved and I are privileged to parent went on such an adventure.  We, along with my parents and sister, met our Chicago family for a reunion.  There were some among them we'd never met (children, that is), and vice versa, and although Grannie had come to stay with us a couple of times and each of my aunts had come for short visits, it had been a long time since nearly all of Grannie's descendants were together.  Even still, we missed my cousin the doctor who recently began her residency. 

The first moments of our reunion were similar to the scene in Cynthia Rylant's The Relatives Came, illustrated by Stephen Gammell.  There was lots of hugging and chattering and more hugging and laughing and more hugging.  In the story, the relatives have driven a long, long way from their family farm to visit their loved ones.  They pack the house and sleep practically piled upon one another (not unlike the many Fourth of July holidays happily spent at Grannie's lake cottage) and stay for weeks, helping the host family tend to their garden (while eating up all its produce) and other household upkeep.  Then, after lots more hugs, they pack up their station wagon and head home with visions of next summer when the ones who made the trip this year will be the hosts.  In spite of the physical distance that separates the two branches of the family tree, there is a bond evident that isn't diminished by time and space, one that every family surely aspires to retain.

For our family reunion we met not quite in the middle and stayed at a hotel, which was a grand adventure for our bambini.  Our Bambini Ride isn't rainbow-colored like the station wagon in the story, but it was packed pretty much to the gills like the fictional vehicle. 

The book's illustrator Stephen Gammell won a Caldecott Medal for the artwork that brings this story to life, as he did for (among others) Song and Dance Man by Karen Ackerman, another book we enjoyed about a grandfather regaling his grandchildren with stories of his days as a vaudeville performer.

Seeing the cousins I'd spent many summers with as a child now all grown up like me (or are we?), one with children of her own, the bond between us was renewed.  When we were much younger, we'd write letters to each other.  Yes: letters -- as in paper, pens, envelopes and stamps.  I'd write them to my cousins, I'd write them to my Grannie, and they'd write them back to me.  So when I stumbled upon David Ezra Stein's Love, Mouserella, I hastily requested it. 

Mouserella has just bidden her grandmother farewell after a visit, and already Mouserella misses her.  Sound familiar?  So Mouserella writes a letter to her dear grandmother, telling her about anything and everything that's going on and providing illustrations.  This sweet story conjures up memories of me writing to my Grannie upon my return home from her house, missing her already and eager to keep the conversation going. We still try to do that now by phone and e-mail, not so much with letters.  The occasional card is always considered "fun mail."

Though we are separated by nearly 800 miles, the connection we have to our Chicago family is important to us to keep alive.  Though traveling has been difficult for us in recent years, we saw an opportunity to give it a go with lots of help from my parents and sister along the way as well as lots of help from my beloved's parents before we left.  Our family is blessed beyond measure to have the love and support of so many relatives and friends.  For all of that, for the gift of time we've recently had to spend together, and for the safe trip we made, I will always be grateful.

I think Clark Griswold would be proud.

sugar and spice

The baking and frosting of the elder lad's birthday confections were collaborative efforts (though the consumption was every lad for himself).  As fun as that was for both of us, the birthday lad and I, if we had had some helpers like the ones in Who Made This Cake, that would've been infinitely more exciting.

In this charming story written by Chihiro Nakagawa and illustrated by Junji Koyose, tiny construction workers bring in big construction equipment and even a helicopter to bake a birthday cake (in the microwave, oddly), frost it with whipped cream, and festoon it with birthday felicitations.  Does it get much better for a lad who likes to have "cooking camp" in the kitchen with his mama and still has an insatiable interest in trucks and construction vehicles?  The elder lad thinks not.

I've reviewed some of our favorite baking-related and construction-related books before (with a follow-up to the cookie post here), but never one that combined both fascinations.  That virtually guarantees its place among the perennial favorites and a must-read for every birthday celebration.

the next chapter

Now that the elder lad is reading independently, we've moved into a new category of books to consider.  While he may read 12 books in a day in order to fill up a reading log, he has also been spotted curled up with some books of longer length and greater depth that he can work through on his own (which he prefers to reading at the appointed time on the agenda).

I'm willing to overlook the shoes on the sofa pillow this one time because he's reading Little Tim.

The children's librarian at our local library branch offered some suggestions for the lad's exploration based on his affinity for Mary Pope Osborne's The Magic Treehouse series that he started reading last summer with his grandmother.  They include the Flat Stanley's Worldwide Adventures series starring Flat Stanley from the picture book by Jeff Brown (by a different author), as well as the Andrew Lost series by J.C. Greenburg about a precocious young inventor who shrinks himself in the course of his scientific escapades.  The lad and his father and brother read several of the Andrew Lost books over the winter.  The Flat Stanley books are now in the queue.  She recommended several others, including a few different mystery series and some science-based ones, both of which seem right up the lad's alley. 

a little light reading

On a recent trip to visit the Chicago family, my dad returned with a sack full of books as gifts from his sister (the younger lad's godmother) for the bambini from -- get this -- a *local* bookshop.  One of the books was Nick Bruel's Bad Kitty for President -- a comedic crash course in politics for the newly-minted chapter book crowd.  Having finished that volume, a few more Bad Kitty books came home from the library in today's haul of fresh books.

While we were at the library this morning, Grandmare suggested the lad try reading Buttons: The Dog Who Was More Than A Friend by Linda Yeatman and illustrated by Hugh Casson.  Apparently it is a favorite among her third graders. 

We haven't seen the movie yet, but we did lay claim to a new-to-us volume of Herge's graphic novel series about a detective named Tintin, a character near and dear to the lads' hearts.

Along with the home library favorites starring Edward Ardizzone's unassuming but heroic Little Tim, some non-fiction tomes explaining the "hows" and "whys" of things, and some denser picture books (including Teach Your Buffalo to Play Drums, a new one by Audrey Vernick, who wrote one of my favorite getting-ready-for-school books Is Your Buffalo Ready for Kindergarten?), the lad also digs The Berenstain Bears and Scooby Doo.

As he nears his seventh birthday and his second grade year, the elder lad is all about helping out.  I'm so glad and grateful that he's also often about reading, even if he may deny it.  When it's on his own terms, he's much more enthusiastic.  With an intriguing and challenging array of books such as these (among others), here's hoping his love for reading will continue to grow.

motivators

On the last day of school we drove to the library and signed up for the Summer Reading Program, which asks each participant to read (or be read) a certain number of books and visit the library a few times in order to earn a medal and prizes.  There are special programs and events throughout the summer as well.  We've made it a point to participate since the elder lad was a toddler.  We read to him in those days.  These days he can read to himself (and his siblings). 

Each year when the bambini sign up for the program, they are eager to see the medal and prizes -- sometimes stuffed animals, other times inflatable toys -- they stand to earn.  As soon as we get home from the library they ask me to get out the previous years' medals, which I usually have stashed somewhere after said prizes have been used as lassos or other contraband. 

Reading books together is a high-priority agenda item most days, so we reach the goal of however many books it is to win the whole shebang of prizes fairly early on in the summer.  The elder lad has reveled in writing down the books he's read in his log.

A day or so into the book-logging project, my beloved was giving the elder lad some good-natured teasing about reading before bedtime -- more specifically, that the lad needed to cease his dilly-dallying getting ready for bed lest there be no time left for reading.  The lad wasn't too concerned. 

"It's important to keep reading during the summer so you don't forget how," said my beloved, hoping to motivate the lad.

"But Dad," said the lad," I've already read 12 books today!"

Our aunt who teaches at the school our bambini attend had a snappy comeback of her own when she heard about that:  "Time for longer books!  Next up: War and Peace..." 

little things

happiness is...

...a sack of fresh library books and a favorite pair of "clip clops"
(and a washing machine back in business, with many thanks to my handy husband)

their stories

At last week's storytime, the kids in attendance made their own books as part of the "Day of the Child" celebration at the library.  They got to write and illustrate the stories themselves (or dictate the stories to their caregivers, if necessary).

That's what the elder lass did -- dictate to me a story about a cat who plays at the playground with her sister then has a snack and takes a nap.

Clearly, I am not an illustrator of any distinction.

The younger lad's story was, of course, about a robot.  This unnamed robot (not Sammy) dresses up like a dragon and scales some power lines before resting in some grass.

ro.bot book

While I was writing (taking dictation, that is) and illustrating (ahem) the elder lass's tome, the younger lass went to town on some illustrations of her own.  I'm hoping she'll fill in the story eventually.

younger lass's exuberant artwork, much like her personality.  PS: I'm smitten with my new gold tablecloth.

Complete with snacks and more books, it was a festive conclusion to the school year storytime series our friend the talented librarian does so well.  We're looking forward to summer storytimes starting in June.

Inspired by his siblings' creations, the elder lad starting writing a book of his own -- a chapter book, no less.  I'm eager to see where it leads.

"The Tree house" -- a work in progress

In other book-related doings, I've updated a couple of recent book posts, including the follow-up zoo book post and the duck-themed one, with books that came to mind after I'd published the posts and photographs of the books themselves.   I'm always hesitant to assert that I've canvassed the books on a given topic for this very reason.

Whatever shall we do until summer Storytime begins?  Write our own stories, I suppose. I for one will try my hardest not to let our vast quantities of library materials go overdue, which is what usually happens when Storytime is on hiatus and I'm consequently off my routine -- in spite of the safeguards and reminders...

magical ideas

Three year old elder lass asks me as we're driving home from school: "Mama, when I get older, can I have a pink wand?"

me:  "What would you do with it?"

her: "I'd wand [my baby sister] to my room."

me: "Then what?"
her: "I'd play with her."

me: "Play what?"
her: "Horses.  She'd ride in my lap on my horse.  I'd put the wand on her lap."

me: "Like a seat belt?"
her: "Yes."

later that same trip...

Elder lass, looking up from her book: "'B' is for buffalo and for Bonnie, so maybe you should get a buffalo for your birthday."

All this from the usually-reserved girl who described the outfit she meticulously chose for herself today as that of a "rock star."  

I can't make this stuff up.

Epilogue: when she told her daddy that she was a "rock star," he asked her what that meant.  "Is it a person who likes to look at rocks?" he asked her.  "Yes," she declared. 

cheese and quackers

For many years, my beloved's mother has set up an incubator in her primary grade elementary school classrooms and served as surrogate Mama Duck to several generations of ducklings.  The bambini have always enjoyed seeing the hatchlings, so much so that one year the then not-quite-four-year-old elder lad drew this "duck crossing" sign to commemorate the blessed event as a gift to his grandmother.  This drawing holds a special place in my heart because it was one of the elder lad's first drawings of a figure from his imagination.

"duck crossing" sign Apr 2009 by the not-quite-four-year-old elder lad

This year, the elementary school's solarium is playing host to twelve wild baby ducklings and their doting mama duck.  We're anxious to meet the little fluffernutters.  Until that time, we'll satisfy ourselves with these hilarious books by Jez Alborough starring a well-meaning if spirited title character named Duck and his friends Sheep, Goat, and Frog.  

Captain Duck by Jez Alborough

Throughout the books, including Duck in the Truck; Super Duck; Hit the Ball, Duck; Captain Duck; Duck to the Rescue; and Fix-It Duck, the clever rhyming text and lively panel-style illustrations work hand in hand to convey both Duck's quirkiness and his eagerness to help his friends, who bear with Duck and his bumbling ways with love and good humor.

Hit the Ball, Duck, by Jez Alborough

While the thematic material like trucks, baseball, and super heroes might initially appeal to young lads, our lasses ask for and relish these books just as much as their brothers.  We've requested many of the books from the library several times, nearly enough to warrant a collection of our own.  They're almost as fun as the real deal, with no incubator required.

We also like Lauren Thompson's books about Little Quack, his four older siblings, their mama and friends with illustrations by Derek Anderson -- especially Little Quack's New Friend, and a sweet book from my beloved's grandmother called Lemon the Duck by Laura Backman (illustrated by Laurence Clayet-Merle).  

Little Quack's New Friend by Lauren Thompson, illustrated by Derek Anderson

more zoo books

With the preschool field trip to the zoo a qualified success (and behind us), I realize one post about zoo-themed picture books is simply not enough. 

Sheena Knowles and Rod Clement have created two funny books about emus -- of all creatures -- that I think belong in any zoo-themed book list.  In Edward the Emu, the title bird thinks it would be more interesting to be any other animal in the zoo than an emu, so each night he sneaks out of his cage and climbs in with another animal.  Each successive morning everyone is surprised to find an emu in with the lions, seals, and snakes.  Imagine his surprise, however, when he learns that visitors to the zoo are looking for the interesting emu -- that's him!  When he gets back to his cage, he meets Edwina, the emu who replaced him when he went wanderin'.  Their life together is the subject of Edwina the Emu, who by now is the mother of ten emu eggs.  The illustrations in these two books crack me up (pardon the pun).  Who knew emus had such hilarious facial expressions?

Every so often the talented librarian who does the storytime at our local library branch will read The Baby Beebee Bird by Diane Redfield Massie.  I think it's the way she reads the story that endears it to me.  I was delighted to find a copy of the book at my parents' house on a recent visit.  I didn't remember it at all from my childhood, but I'm so happy to share it with my bambini now.  A wee little baby beebee bird comes to live at the zoo.  As darkness falls and the animals settle in for the night, their sleep is disturbed by the "bobby-beebeeing" of the baby beebee bird, who is nocturnal by nature (like some children I know, ahem).  The animals all try to shush the bird, who is only doing what comes naturally.  The next morning, the zookeeper is confounded by all the sluggish animals.  The baby beebee bird tucks into her nest to sleep for the day, but the other animals will have none of that.  They roar, squawk, and pester the bird to keep her awake all day.  The next evening when darkness falls, the zoo is blissfully quiet. 

Some zoos have an in-house aquarium (but not ours -- that's a separate field trip).   Therefore the recently released One Cool Friend  by Toni Buzzeo and illustrated by David Small (a favorite of mine) fits right in.  A proper young man named Elliot goes to the aquarium with his eccentric father and comes home with a penguin -- a living, breathing penguin.  Elliot is a thoughtful and generous host to his new friend, making the bird's accommodations (i.e. Elliot's bedroom) just to the penguin's liking and making all the family's frozen fish available to the guest for his consumption.  The dad is clueless to the fact that an actual penguin is living in the house (he thinks the penguin is a stuffed animal souvenir from the aquarium gift shop).  He is set straight in a funny and surprising way.

We've been working through many of David Small's books lately, with two of them making my ongoing "favorites" list: George Washington's Cows (which Small himself both wrote and illustrated) and The Huckabuck Family: and How They Raised Popcorn in Nebraska and Quit and Came Back (one of Carl Sandberg's Rootabaga Stories).  I digress, however, from my zoo theme by mentioning them.

Back on topic, for the wee-est zoo-goers in the group, there is Eric Carle's 1-2-3 To The Zoo and Deborah Guarino's Is Your Mama A Llama?

We also really liked Jon Agee's My Rhinoceros, about a boy who adopts a rhinoceros as a pet even though he's told that rhinoceroses are only good for popping balloons and poking holes in kites.  Turns out, those talents are actually useful in certain situations.

Now I feel a little better about my canvassing of the zoo-themed books scene (not that I've even scratched the surface).  At least I've given a more complete picture of the books we will reach for should anyone suggest going to the zoo again anytime soon.

zoo books

In order to psyche myself up for honor of an upcoming preschool field trip to the zoo, I give you a few of my favorite zoo-themed picture books of recent memory:

This Dictionary of Ordinary Extraordinary Animals by Lisa McGuinness and Leslie Jonath has *extraordinary* illusrations by Lisa Congdon.  That's the first thing I noticed.  As I thumbed through the beautiful pages, I then noticed the neat details in the entries for many animals commonly featured in children's books.  The elder lad was enthralled by this book, barely looking up from it as we drove home from school the day we checked it out of the library.


Jan Ormerod's When We Went to the Zoo has going for it an engaging story with interesting prose and meter -- not quite rhythmic, but still poetic.  This is not a new book -- just new to us, but it has become one of my favorite zoo books because of the writing.

Recent release A Zeal of Zebras: An Alphabet of Collective Nouns by Woop Studios speaks right to my word nerd heart, even though I am not really that big a fan of alphabet books.  This one is different because of the creativity in describing a multiplicity of a certain animal -- not necessarily one whose name begins with the sequential letter of the alphabet. Initially the elder lad dismissed this book as a bit beneath him -- he knows his alphabet already, after all, but once we got to the page with "A Quiver of Cobras", followed soon after by "A Shiver of Sharks", both he and the younger lad were paying attention.  I bet they were all along. 

These books along with A Sick Day for Amos McGee (which I reviewed here) and Michael Bond's Paddington Goes to the Zoo are the first ones that come to mind when I think of zoo-themed books ... for good reason.  They -- along with the wonder and excitement that bubble up from each of the bambini -- might just convince me that all the effort to pack up and trek all over the zoo might just be fun after all.

my little librophile

We missed Storytime today but made it to the library after school to pick up our latest haul of books.  At bedtime when I asked, as I always do, the elder lass what the best part of her day was, she said first that she didn't want to tell me, then reluctantly (but without hesitation) she said, "getting fresh books."

for the tinkerers I love

We have been all about the 'bots (as in robots) around here lately as we've been celebrating the younger lad's fifth birthday.  Here it is Monday, when I try to write about some of the books that have struck our fancy, so I give you...

Clink by Kelly DiPucchio, illustrated by Matthew Myers.  Poor Clink is a rusty old broken down robot in a shop full o'bots that are newer, flashier, zippier, and bigger.  Many a child comes in to choose a robot and glosses right over Clink.  Who wants a robot that used to toast bread and sing old fashioned songs?   (Do robots sing?) 

One day a boy comes in looking at the robots, finding none to his liking despite the shopkeeper's slick salesmanship.  Then the boy sees Clink, and something in Clink comes alive (in a robot sort of way) again, awakening the music within him that had long ago fallen silent.  As Clink gets more excited, his rusty old parts fail him and he sort of self-destructs.  That seals the deal for Clink, as the boy came looking for a *project* -- something to tinker with, not something to entertain him.  He finds that in Clink.

The younger lad of course is drawn to all the neat-looking robots of Myers' creation, but what resonates with me is the aspect of tinkering/creating/repurposing/refurbishing what already exists rather than trashing it in favor of something new and shiny.  It's a sort of "green" message, but not in a overt or off-putting way.  As the story ends, we see the boy tinkering with Clink and dreaming up ideas for projects to work on with his dad, which further endears the story to us, as around here the dad likes to tinker in the garage -- often with the lads close by. 

Ms. DiPucchio's most recent book is Crafty Chloe, which is another story of using one's talent and imagination to craft just the right thing. 

Robots are endless possibilities, at least to our younger lad.  They're an ideal outlet for his amazing imagination.  For a book to inspire such creativity, that's a rare find.

if you give a girl a party...

Among the many books the elder lass counts as her "favorites," the If You Give... series written by Laura Joffe Numeroff and illustrated by Felicia Bond are easily her "most favorite."  We first became acquainted with these charming books when my beloved's mother loaned to us the copy of If You Give A Mouse A Cookie that they had received from my beloved's grandmother. We still have it.  Good thing she's not charging us overdue fees!

Several books have followed, including one a about pig and pancake (and a party, in a separate story); a moose and a muffin; "Cookie Mouse" (as the lass calls the original title character) and the movies; and most recently, a dog and a donut.  Each story is a study in cause and effect, starting with logical consequences like the mouse wanting milk to go with his cookie unfolding into sillier scenarios such as the mouse wanting to take a nap and needing the kind boy who gave him the cookie in the first place to make up a little nest for the mouse's nap.  It all circles back to the beginning, with the title critter wanting whatever it was that had first attracted his or her attention and the attendant child exhausted from all the requests.

 For her third birthday festivities almost two months ago, the elder lass said she wanted "rainbows" when queried.  My beloved's mother had the great idea to create a party for her with the If You Give friends all invited (along with grandparents, siblings, and Annie -- my sister and the lass's godmother; a small group for our reserved but so sweet lass), and she and my beloved's father (who the bambini call "Papere") generously offered to both host the party and come up with all the games and decorations.  All we had to do was handle the cake ("cookie cake", the lass specified) and show up.

Sweet.

Grandmare was really in her element creating this party, as early childhood is one of her passions. She has such a heart for children, boundless creativity, and a talent for creating beautiful .  The result in this case was a beautiful, perfect party for their first granddaughter, who was thrilled with the result.

The If You Give friends and their books, ready for the birthday girl to arrive.

We made the cookie cake at home together using this recipe (but substituting white whole wheat flour for the all-purpose), which the lass enjoyed very much because she got to work the mixer.  To decorate it, we made homemade sprinkles -- yep: homemade -- because I'm mildly concerned that store-bought sprinkles may have a half life somewhere in the neighborhood of 4,000 years *and *because I had seen the idea and thought it would be a fun project for us.

Can't you see it now?  A mixer full of sticky goo that we then tint with food coloring (as in *doesn't wash out*), put in a cone made of parchment paper, squeeze out into lines on a lined baking sheet, and leave out to dry for several *days*.  Go ahead and think it: That was crazy! But they came out alright and certainly looked festive once sprinkled onto the cookie cake.  Next time... I'm not sure there'll be a next time.

sprinkle strands before the lads had their way with them.

The bambini thoroughly enjoyed the games Grandmare designed herself, including Pin the Cupcake on the Platter, a rainbow-themed cake walk of sorts, and Toss the Piggies in the Pen.  She made a beautiful rainbow of fruit with a cloud of whipped cream to dip them in, and she served a tasty meal that the lass loved.

The birthday girl and the Pin the Cupcake on the Platter game with the If You Give friends (and the younger lad, who lives in his overalls)

This book-themed birthday celebration was just the thing for our sweet Rainbow Girl, the one who usually wants to read and snuggle more than anything else, who fancies herself a ballerina, and who brings such joy to us by her presence.