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I’m sadly past the age when most of my friends are having babies and it’s been a while since I’ve been invited to a baby shower, so I long ago stopped stocking up on cute little outfits and one-of-a-kind stuffed animals and that kind of thing.  So when my daughter was invited to a baby shower and I completely forgot about it until the last minute, I knew I had to come up with something quickly.

(You may wonder why a 12-year-old girl was invited to a baby shower.  It’s not a teen pregnancy thing.  It’s just that Annie’s social life is always busier and more interesting than mine.  I’ve stopped questioning it.)

So there I am, panicking a little, trying to think of what stores are nearby . . . and then I think, “Oh, wait.  The bookstore!”  I run over to my all-time favorite local Indie, Village Books in the Pacific Palisades, and I head to the back to the children’s corner.  Katie O’Laughlin, who owns the store, once told me that picture books are one of the few things that e-books can’t compete with, so it’s something small bookstores like to keep a good stock of.

I wanted this present to be special since it was coming from Annie, and then it hit me: I should pick out the picture books that meant something to her when she was little (which feels like a minute ago and an eternity ago), the ones that she and I read over and over together because they meant something to us, or just brought us both so much pleasure we never stopped enjoying them.

The second I spotted Wemberly Worried by Kevin Henkes, it was in my arms.  Both my daughter and I are natural worriers.  We don’t face any new situation without fretting about the various things that might go wrong, the people who might not be friendly, the parking spaces that might not materialize, the food that might not be good . . .  I love that book because it acknowledges that not all kids are carefree and lighthearted.  That was an easy one.

"Our" book

I was tempted to get one of Ian Falconer’s Olivia books because we loved those so much, especially the first one. The drawings and the text are just perfect.  But they’ve become so hugely popular that I worried a little she might already have gotten them.  While I was trying to decide, my son came up and handed me Ferdinand the Bull.  ”You have to give her this,” he said.  ”It’s our story.”  (Ferdinand, for those who don’t remember, is the bull who would rather pick daisies than act like the other bulls.  And, yes, it is our story,)

I also got Jules Feiffer’s I Lost My Bear which is maybe the most fun book to read out loud ever, because the narrator/protagonist is wildly over the top emotional as she searches for her lost teddy bear.  It’s a fun, fun book and I’ve always loved pretty much anything Feiffer’s ever done, for kids or adults.

My memory being what it is, I can’t remember for sure but I think I also got another Kevin Henkes, Sheila Rae the Brave, because that was a real favorite of Annie’s.  So was Lily’s Purple Plastic Purse and Julius the Baby of the World.  Basically you can’t go wrong with Kevin Henkes.

I couldn’t buy every favorite book because there wasn’t money, time or world enough, and I won’t bore you by listing them.  But if you’re a mom or a dad, the next time you need to get a great baby shower gift, think about picking out your own kid’s favorite picture books and writing a little note about why each one was special to him or her.  Even better, take your kid along and let him pick the books out and dictate or write the note himself.   I can’t think of anything more special or more likely to get used over and over again.

Plus it gives you an excuse to go to the bookstore.  And we all like to do that.

Great minds think alike: Kim just reminded me she’s written about her own favorite baby shower book choices.  Check out her top picks.

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He doesn’t look a day over twenty-five

Kim and I must have different calendars, because mine doesn’t have anything this week other than St. Patrick’s Day, but she recently informed me that this Friday, March 20, is the 40th Anniversary of the publication of The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle.  I checked around online and, sure enough, Friday is “Very Hungry Caterpillar Day,” with celebrations all over the world.  Check here for special events in your area.

Kim frequently runs special literary dates by me to see if I want to write anything, and I’m ashamed to say that many important authors’ birthdays have come and gone with my not having a thing to say about them, mostly because I read their books back in college and can’t remember them well enough to do them justice.  But when she said “Eric Carle,” my ears perked up.   (They do that sometimes.)

If you read my earlier post about reading out loud to kids, you’ll know that I didn’t enjoy it as much as most parents.  I did read picture books to my kids when they were babies and toddlers, but wading through most of them felt like punishment for transgressions I hadn’t known I’d committed.  Not Eric Carle, though.  I loved reading his books out loud.  Maybe it’s the paper cut-out artwork that looks almost three-dimensional and is never cloyingly cute but transcends children’s art to become something that appeals to all ages.  Maybe it was the simple repetitive storylines and words that meant my kids could recite most of it with me, so our voices could blend.  Maybe it was the little extras–the surprises–that Carle always puts in his picture book, from the textured web of the Very Busy Spider, to the actually cut-out holes the Very Hungry Caterpillar chews through, to–my personal favorite–the soft and gentle “chirp, chirp” of the Very Quiet Cricket at the end of that book. Read the rest of this entry »

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The Joy of Rediscovery

Since my kids can tear through a middle reader book in about an hour, I find myself–despite my belief in supporting independent bookstores–frequently urging them to find the next volume in whatever series they’re reading at the school or local library.   They do, on occasion, but when it’s a book they’re particularly excited about or have reason to believe they’ll enjoy more than most, they’ll dig their heels in and say, “But, Mom, I have to own it–what if I want to reread it?”

Remember those days when you used to reread a book over and over again?  Before school got so hard and so busy that it was all you could do to keep up with your English lit and history reading?  Before you felt the weight of the hundreds of thousands of new books being constantly published and talked about and critiqued that you needed to catch up on?  Before you felt acquiring new knowledge was more important than simply lazing around, enjoying the adventure of a good book?

But maybe you still reread your favorite old books.  Do you?  This is a serious question, not a rhetorical one, by the way.  I’d love to know the answer. Read the rest of this entry »

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Or will it ruin them for life?

God, I love a good romance. A book’s just not satisfying to me unless there’s some kind of passionate coming-together in it of a man and a woman. My love of romance started with The Witch of Blackbird Pond and the manly, frequently annoyed sailor Nat, and continued on through Rhett and Scarlett, every Austen book (although only Emma and Pride and Prejudice REALLY satisfy) and Bronte of course-oh and don’t forget The Scarlet Pimpernel where Sir Percy is so freakin’ in love with his wife that he KISSES THE STAIRS where she walked-after being mean to her because he can’t let her know he loves her . . . Oh, GOD, it’s fantastic.

Excuse me a moment.

Cold water in the face. Okay. I’m better now.

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Are we doing it for them or for us?

Of the many wonderfully gaspable moments in Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner’s Freakonomics (which you you should read if you haven’t), the one that may well have made most parents gasp the loudest is when their research reveals that a child’s academic success is correlated to the presence of books in his household but not to his parents’ reading any of those books out loud to him.

There’s a long explanation why this might be, the shortened version of which is: it’s not what we DO as parents so much as who we ARE.  Smart, well-educated, successful people are likely to have a house full of books–and also likely to have smart, well-educated and successful children for, I guess, the obvious genetic (and sometimes socio-economic) reasons. Read the rest of this entry »

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