Miss Nelson is Missing

When I was a kid I remember LOoOoOving The Poky Little Puppy.  I don’t know if it was the puppies or the rice pudding or the strawberry shortcake or what, but I thought it was nearly perfect.

Then I grew up and re-read The Poky Little Puppy.  Suffice it to say, it was a rude awakening.  First, it feels like an eternity to read.  And second, several parts of the story don’t match the illustrations and raise questions each and every time, “Where’s the spider?  Why’s the brown hop toad a green frog?”  But the primary challenge with this book is the message.  Are you supposed to feel sorry for the poky puppy or is it more of a “serves you right” admonishment?  Maybe we’re supposed to institute a rule that there will be no desserts EVER if our kids dig holes under fences?  It definitely has had zero impact on making our poky little puppy (the little one) any less poky… I’m pleased to report that we’ve “lost” our copy of this book in some out of reach cupboard.

So, when I received a recommendation for Miss Nelson is Missing, I was a little wary.  I also remember liking this one from my childhood, but who can be sure?  Maybe it just had some reference to chocolate custard that clouded my judgement.

In a nutshell: Miss Nelson is a teacher with a super bad class of rude spitball throwing kids.  She decides to teach them a lesson by dressing-up as a substitute teacher witch and putting them through elementary school boot camp.  The kids finally recognize what they’ve been missing and want their old, sweet teacher back.  Just when they can’t take anymore, pretty Miss Nelson miraculously shows back up at school— her chin has been reduced by 400% and her nose is small and perky again.

Overall, Miss Nelson is Missing! by Harry Allard and James Marshall is not a case of the Poky Little Puppy.  It’s got a good message, with just enough of a veiled threat to get the point across.  I would like to see a sequel where Miss Viola Swamp shows-up as a substitute Mom.  Preferably with illustrations of children that aren’t getting their pajamas on in a timely manner.  Maybe elves are not the answer… next year’s Christmas sensation: The Witch on the Shelf.

Families can talk about: What is rude behavior?  How should we act in class and at home to demonstrate respect?  Do you think the kids learned their lesson?  Was it really Miss Nelson or did she go out on leave for a little nip and tuck?

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Photo courtesy of Miss Nelson is Missing! by Harry Allard and James Marshall.

Ish

Last year our cousins Covin and Jenna got an “Elf on the Shelf.”  Maybe he was around earlier, we’re not sure.  We are sure that last year was when their elf stepped it up.  We heard that one day he was fishing in their toilet… and then one day the kids came home and he was making snow angels on the counter.  Anyway, Jakey was so freaked out about the elf moving around at night while his cousins were sleeping that he’d wake-up in a sweaty fright asking, “Where’s the elf?  Where’d the elf go?”

Lately we’ve been threatening to get our own elf and Mr. Firstborn is dead-set against it.  He’s not really buying the omnipresent Santa, but he knows the elf has a direct line to St. Nick.  In the meantime, I’ve found I’m falling behind on my self-imposed book reports… what to do?  Oh yeah, this is my universe where I can adjust deadlines willy-nilly and blame it on the book elf.  I invented the book elf tonight.  He’s the one that fills-up our book bag each night.  He forgot to do it last night because he might have been at a hotel in the city for a work offsite.  In any case, I called him during bath time tonight and he sped over in a jiffy.  He’s also quite responsive if I call him based on naughty behavior between the dinner table and the bathtub.

So tonight’s write-up is on a book called Ish by Peter H. Reynolds.

In a nutshell: Ish is a short story of a boy named Ramon who loves to draw.  He draws anything, anytime, anywhere (including while he’s sitting on the commode.)  One day his older brother Leon laughs at his drawing, destroys his confidence, and throws in the proverbial artist’s towel.  But then he finds that his little sister Marisol has been collecting his rejected works of art and describes them each as “vase-ish,” “sun-ish,” “fish-ish,” etc.  Ramon regains his confidence, revels in his new ish freedom and lives happily ever afterish.

I love this book because it helps to combat the popular “I can’t draw” myth that grabs hold of most people and strangles their creativity long before it should.  Jake likes to present me with his pictures and declare “I’m a little artist.”

Families can talk about: Can anyone be artistic?  What should you say or do if someone laughs at your work?  What does “ish” mean?  Is Ramon a girl or just a boy with big hair?  Is Jake Nate-ish or is Nate Jake-ish?

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Photo courtesy of Ish by Peter H. Reynolds.

Nate the Great and the Crunchy Christmas

Way back when, when we were debating baby names, we settled pretty quickly on Jacob and Nathaniel.  Though James did make a run at “Sergio.”  We’d go get coffee and he’d give the cashier his proposed baby name and then I’d here “Double latte for Sergio?”  And he’d look at me expectantly, “Surge?  It’s cool right?”  Mmm hmm.  Then we spent the rest of our days coming up with ridiculous name combinations that made us laugh hysterically.  It’s so fun thinking about horrible names, especially for other people’s last names.  I really should have written those down…

In any case, Jacob had two major things going against it: A) Every other kid in America was being named Jacob and B) Some kids end up as Jake the Snake.  As someone with a “uniquely” spelled first name and countless incidents of being called Hi-may, the whole idea of having a recognizable name didn’t bother me that much.  Although I do wonder if when a baby name hits “X million,” the Disney cartoon marketing department is immediately required to name the lead character of their latest animated series that name… thus millions of children fall in love with their Neverland Pirate or Princess “The First” namesakes.  And regarding B) I am not a fan of guys that are snakes and so let’s not start throwing that around the sports field.

Now with Nate, the clear trouble is that all Nate’s are called Nate Dawg.  I am not kidding you, when Jacob was born James turned to me and said, “So is it Jake or Nate Dawg?”  At least I think he said that, it’s all kind of a blur.  In any case, I can live with Nate Dawg.  Surprisingly, I didn’t really think of Nate the Great.  But that’s what they call him at school.

And that brings me to the latest in our Christmas Countdown: Nate the Great and the Crunchy Christmas by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat and Craig Sharmat, illustrations by Marc Simont.

This book seems to have turned-up at school and was then gifted to us by our favorite teacher.  That’s where the interesting part of this story ends.  Warning: This may be the most boring book we’ve read this year… and why St. Lizzie’s won’t miss it.

In a nutshell: Nate the Great is a kid detective with a dog named Sludge.  He spends forty-one pages solving some sort of lost doggie Christmas card caper… I’m not sure, I tuned-out part way through.  So did both Jake and Nate.  Looks like it’s one in a series of at least seventeen.  Appears this one may have been written after the series jumped the shark.

Families can talk about: Should we stop reading this book and pick something else?

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 Nate the Great and the Crunchy Christmas illustrated by Marc Simont.  At least he’s cute?

The Chicken Problem

I’m embarrassed to admit or repeat the things that I have exclaimed at my two vertically-challenged housemates this year.  I had no idea I would ever have to say such things.  I will absolutely not repeat them here… needless to say, the most compromising exclamations most certainly occur at bath time.

The other day Grandma asks me, “Why is Jacob always singing some song called “bum-bum style?”

Turns out Grandma missed last year’s South Korean singing sensation’s single “Gangnam Style.”  Those new pistachio ads must be going right over her head…

I’m almost 100% certain Jake has never actually heard this song… but I will also freely admit that I wasn’t aware of it until some kid clued me in on the playground.  In any event, bum-bum style is one of the most pressing issues currently plaguing our family style.  Particularly, the misdemeanor of “putting one’s bottom in the air”…

And that brings us to our next book, The Chicken Problem by Jennifer Oxley and Billy Aronson.

In a nutshell: This book is about a little girl named Peg who wants to have a pie picnic with a pig and a cat.  Unfortunately, she has an extra piece of pie and has to find someone to eat it.  In the process, she encounters a chicken problem.  By far, this is my favorite book yet.  It’s freakin’ adorable.  The pictures look hand drawn by a fifth-grader on graph paper.  And it’s a clever story about math.  Math?!  I think Mrs. Haas would approve.

The page numbers allowed me to introduce the concept of equations as they read: 5+1=6; 6+1=7, etc.  There are clever little mathematical signs hidden in the illustrations.  And frankly, we’re into chickens.  Preferably organic, grass-fed, egg-laying chickens, but that’s a previous story.

Families can talk about: What does equals mean?  Why is Nate still counting 1, 2, 11?  And how to keep your cool when you’re totally freaking out.  Most importantly, families can continue flipping back repeatedly to page 8+1=9 to re-quote “Chickens standing on each other’s heads!  Chickens doing the chicken dance!  Chickens bending over and wiggling their bottoms in the air!”

I’d highly recommend this book, but beware, you soon may also be battling The Bum-Bum Problem.

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I guarantee that to date, Nate has never seen anything funnier.

Illustration courtesy of The Chicken Problem by Jennifer Oxley and Billy Aronson.

Pirates Don’t Change Diapers

My polling turned up two pirate books… which I guess is what you get when you poll pirates.  Did I ever tell you the story of the time 9 or 10 of us girls dressed-up as pirates and floated down the Truckee river?  I’m fairly certain the bachelorette wore an eye patch and a blow-up parrot on her shoulder.  Yes, there were pirate beverages involved.  Back to our G-rated content…

I was secretly hoping this book, Pirates Don’t Change Diapers by Melinda Long, illustrations by David Shannon, would have some kind of influential potty training theme.  No such luck.

In a nutshell: Our sometimes cute, sometimes pop-eyed protagonist Jeremy Jacob let’s the same group of unsavory types enter his home to babysit his equally gnome-like sister Bonney Anne.  You’d think with all these double-named kids they’d be from the South, but I believe they’re just from SoCal.  Contrary to the title, the pirates do change diapers.  In the end, they take their treasure back, but leave the two kiddos with a special birthday present for their mom.  Again, serendipitously, the mom’s favorite color is green… just like Jacob and me.

Families can talk about: Why are pirates always saying “argh” and what is “swill”?  Why can’t we see the pirate babysitters “sitting on babies”?  They can also talk about why the dad is taking a nap while his son is letting toothless, gape-mouthed seaman in without asking permission.  Most importantly, they can try to answer the question, “Why the pirate in the potty?”— followed by an explanation of a peephole— followed by such uproarious laughter that the rest of the story is marooned.

“What is mawooned?”

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Illustration by David Shannon, Pirates Don’t Change Diapers.

How I Became a Pirate

We’re three days into the book blog of 2013 and it’s really picking-up steam.  The anticipation builds all day until the boys actually forgot to demand treats after dinner tonight, rushing to bath time as the final hurdle before opening the secret book bag.

Before our story synopsis, a little ditty I was reminded of after tonight’s literary feeding frenzy.  Earlier this year, Nate was eating out of his French pirate bowl and his dad started quizzing him… in English… as I’ve said we’re want to do.  He gets “crab” right and “birdie” (technically a parrot) and of course “pirate” no problem.  Then James asks, “Nate what’s that?”

“The Dolly Roger!”

And so our next book is titled How I Became a Pirate by Melinda Long, illustrated by David Shannon.

In a nutshell: It’s a story about a little boy who meets a band of pirates during a day at the shore… in Long Beach.  He finds out that pirates won’t tuck you in and don’t have books and are reluctant to provide goodnight kisses—a somewhat thin argument on why being a pirate isn’t all it’s cracked-up to be.  It’s key redeeming qualities personally lay in the fact that the main character’s name is Jeremy Jacob, and it ends with said namesake playing soccer in a pirate soccer uniform.  As I am literally a former soccer pirate, I found the ending exceptionally serendipitous.  Unfortunately I found the illustrations a little too ugly.  As Tyra says, there’s ugly ugly and there’s pretty ugly.  I’m more a fan of the latter.  I may have related to the lead character if he was just a little less bug-eyed and tic-tac toothed.  I do however like that this book allows me to practice my Scottish pirate accent… which is prit-ee guid if I do say so meself.

Families can talk about: What does “down the hatch,” “matey,” and “me hearties” mean?  How wise is “pirate” as your targeted career path?  Is it a good idea to go off with eight of the ugliest and sketchiest dudes at the beach?  And why is Jeremy Jacob wearing a flag like a Superman cape if he clearly doesn’t have a Superman shirt?  Where his Superman shirt go?

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Photo courtesy of How I Became a Pirate by Melinda Long, illustrations by David Shannon.

Press Here

The second book in our series is a little French number titled Press Here by Herve Tullet.  I was intrigued by the idea of this interactive book and bought it out of curiosity.  Fortunately, it didn’t disappoint.

There was once a time, back when Nate was a baby, that Jacob got hooked on free interactive stories and we had to ban “stories on the iPad.”  If only we’d known about this book…

In a nutshell: This book starts out with a yellow dot which garnered the immediate nickname The Sun Book.  It takes you through a series of pages where you press the dot and rub the dot and tap different dots and every time you turn the page, something has happened because of all your pressing and rubbing and tapping.  The boys especially enjoyed the parts where they got to shake the book and blow on the pages.  It’s great for the preschool crowd.  There was a significant amount of hooping and hollering and laughing as we “played” with this story.  The pages seem to withstand the spit shower that inevitably follows trying to “blow away the dark.”  Jake took it to bed with him last night and tonight.  And this evening he was still trying to figure out the “magic”… asking if the numbers would change if he didn’t follow the directions exactly.  The only downside I saw was that it kind of riled them up, rather than riling them down.

As a family you can talk about: How does this book work?  How many times can you read it in a row before your mommy will go crazy?  If you put yellow dots on your back, can you trick kids into giving you a back massage?

Press Here: A fun little unique bedtime number that’s cheaper than an iPad.

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Photo courtesy of Press Here by Herve Tullet.

The Day the Crayons Quit

Somehow I got this idea while trolling around on the internet… it might have been the Facebook, it might have been the Pinterest.  The premise?  Buy 25 new kids books, wrap each one, and then read one every day as we count down to Christmas.  It appealed to me for a variety of reasons but primarily because I’m sick of reading 95% of our bedtime stories.

Three things to note: First, none of the books fit in our advent calendar, which is a problem I have not yet solved.  Second, who can afford 25 “new” kids books?  After doing quite a bit of comparison shopping on Amazon, it seems to be the cheapest way to go.  I bought some used library books in “very good” condition with “all the pages and only a few highlights.”  But a few hours of research showed that Amazon is attempting to price-out all of its independent “partners” by pricing brand new books cheaper than ripped-up old books.  Or, in the words of some re-run marketeer, “it’s new to you” books.  And third, why go to the trouble of wrapping 25 books when you can just sneak one out of the cupboard, put it in a reusable fabric bag each night and save yourself hours of wrapping?  I come from a long line of garbage bag present wrappers.

And so I will endeavor to also post 25 mini book reviews this month.  Riveting, right?

It all began with several hours of iPad Caltrain research.  You’d think it’d be easy to pick out 25 children’s books from the THOUSANDS that have been published.  But, I beg to differ.  As I may have mentioned, I’ve read some real duds in the last four years therefore finding 25 books that are worth reading was surprisingly tougher than one might think.  I polled friends.  I read lists of books that have won major awards.  I read online reviews.  Then I just went with what looked kind of good.

I should probably give you a bit of background as to what makes a “good” kid book in my book.  My top five criteria include:

1) Humor – I like my nighttime reading to be funny.  I like to hear little kid belly laughs.  It better make me snicker.  I’m a huge fan of sophisticated humor that goes right over the heads of the munchkins to which I’m reading.  Think Pixar movie, only significantly shorter, which leads me to two…

2) Length – Goldilocks length.  Not too long, not to short.  I’ll be here all night… no I’m kidding.  Please.

3) Plot – I’m looking for a good story with an actual plot.  If there’s suspense or a surprise ending, even better.  I can only take so many books that “teach us about the body parts of insects.”

4) Art – Beautiful or clever or colorful illustrations.  I get very little professional art in my life these days.  Let’s make it count.

5) Substitutions Minimized – I very much appreciate authors that recognize the prolonged and ultimately losing battle against words and phrases such as stupid, butt, hate, shut-up and kill.  I know they’ll end up in their vocabulary at some point… let’s not make it tomorrow?  I really don’t want to have to read on high alert, spontaneously creating alternative words as I read about James Henry Trotter’s mean, fat aunt that calls him stupid and essentially submits him to such severe child abuse and neglect that he escapes via peach, Roald.  I still love you though.

So let’s get on the with the show.  The first book in our series and one which I found on many “top” lists for 2013:

The Day the Crayons Quit by Drew Daywalt, illustrations by Oliver Jeffers

In a nutshell: This book is a collection of letters from Duncan’s mostly unhappy set of crayons.  One or two Amazon reviewers didn’t like that the crayons have a beef with Duncan and write him letters of complaint.  After reading it I wouldn’t worry.  It’s not going to make your kids bigger complainers than they probably already are.  It’s got cool illustrations and a creative, unexpected ending.  The funniest part is at the very end about the peach crayon.  You’ll have to read it to see what I’m talking about.  There is one unnecessary use of ‘hate.’  From a kid perspective, I didn’t conduct formal interviews, but we read it three times yesterday at three different sittings.  At this point, I don’t have a rating system figured out, but so far we’re off to a good start.

Families can talk about: What is a strike?  Why do people strike and what’s a picket line?  How would you approach a labor dispute?  What should Duncan’s strategy be in renegotiating their contract?  The story helps younger listeners practice their colors.  The pictures of the letters look so real your two-year-old may try to pick them up off the page.

Looking forward to an equally creative sequel that I’ve taken the liberty of titling The Day the Parents Quit.  It was a long holiday weekend…

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Yeah right!  Photo courtesy of http://www.pinterest.com/pin/508273507916699712/.

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Jakey has always been a fiend for logistics.  Around this time last year I remember him proposing a plan where we were supposed to take him hunting with Granddad and “Grandma will watch Nake.  Nake is too little for hunting, right?” (shaking his head matter-of-factly).  Sometimes he tells me how we’ll drive different cars and then switch cars and then move the car seats and on and on.  I’ve always appreciated someone who thinks things through.

Last week we got a gas log set installed in our fireplace and I offhandedly mentioned that we’re going to get a new fireplace screen that’s built in.

“So, how’s Santa going to get through?”

“Well, it will have a latch.  Not to worry.”

“Oh, it’s just a frame, it’s just a frame with doors right?  He can just open the doors.”

“Exactly.  They’ll make it so Santa can open it to get out, no problem.”  And… change the subject.

Then, the other day after he dictated his letter to Santa to me and we posted it to the blog, he asks, “So how’s Santa going to get this?”

Quick on my feet, “He’ll get it.  He checks our website.”

“Oh, you mean he’s a Facebook friend?” (nodding, again matter-of-factly)

“Yes, he’s a Facebook friend.  Yes he is.”

Nuggle

The phases around here go so fast I can hardly keep up.  There were the days of Nate clearing his throat.  Then the two weeks of stuttering, “wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-where Jakey go?”  I resisted googling childhood stuttering for as long as I could.  Luckily it’s passed.  One day I noticed that “Nake” was gone.  Nake!  I asked Jake and he told me Nate and Nake are both his nicknames.  But really, he only says Nate these days.  Truly the end of an era.

And then, there was the missing ‘s’.  I first noticed it when Nathaniel kept repeating, “I too cary, Mama.  I too cary.”  Then interchanging it with “I’m too cared.  Nuggle Mama, nuggle.”

And then I noticed:

“Mell my toesies, they’re tinky.”

“I’m trong!”

“I want a nack.”

“My hands are so ticky.”

“Mmm, trawberries.”

“Daddy, why they’re piders in your nose?  Piders.”  (Not to worry.  False alarm.)

“My bed too pooky for me.  Too pooky.”

“Come here Cruffy.  Come here.”

“I wanna ticker.”

“I mash it.  Mash the fly.”

And in one disturbing incident when I was home alone at night with the boys: “Oooh, a troller outside.  A troller.”  Fortunately, it was just our stroller on the porch.

Last week I noticed that he’s picked the ‘s’ back up in most of his words.  Of course ‘Superman’ was never affected.  But, I’ll never forget the night he was sitting on the changing table and he knocked the toy lizard off onto the floor.

“Where’d the nake go?  Where the nake?”

Like I said… the end of an era.