Fab Kid Lit (Age 2-3)-Part 1

41Kqz4zWX0LI used to blog monthly about the books I read with the Little Man, then life got wild again and instead I began to blog about our travels.

But several things just happened that make me feel compelled to revisit this topic.

1. What would have been my Grandmother’s 91st birthday passed a few weeks ago and as she was the Resident Childhood Librarian in our family, I want her to feel I am passing the torch she passed to my mother and my mother so generously passed me.

2. G’s birthday just passed over the weekend, his 3rd birthday. Not sure how that happened, but it happened nonetheless. It made me realize, among other things, I have not posted about any glorious books we’ve read for an entire year.

3. Lastly, I have a little bit of a girl crush on Pamela Druckerman. If you have not read her book, Bringing Up Bebe and her follow up title, Bebe Day by Day, you should. It doesn’t matter if you have children or not. I think her books are more important than just parental how-tos, they are social commentary on the potential pitfalls current parenting techniques may have on the next generation of Americans. Anyhooo…when I tweeted her about how excited I was about her new book, she not only came to visit my blog (eeeeeeee!!), she tweeted links to her followers about my Fab Kid Lit pages (EEEEEEEEEEEeeeeee!).  So naturally I feel I have to post more and not slack off anymore…

There were so many books this year, I had to divide this post into 3 separate posts. and after I publish them all I’ll chuck them up into the Fab Kid Lit Pages you see up above. We still read all the books from those lists as well…and will until he can read them to me himself.

Enjoy!

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Richard Scarry’s Best Storybook Ever! has a very special place in my heart. While I really try to go for books that have a real story to them, a message about life, Richard Scarry‘s books are more about learning by memorization. The illustrations are just so adorable they essentially taught G the words for different foods from A to Z.  He would bring the book to me every night and recite the words that matched the illustrations.  When he’d forget one, he’d look up at me with his great big eyes and wait for the answer…ack…delish.

 

 

418d3dfeIfLThe Carrot Seed by Crockett Johnson was a gift from our nephew. He says the book taught him about self confidence. I could see how it would since it’s a story about how everyone doubted the growth of his carrot, but he stuck with it and persevered.

 

 

 

51B24F08GXLBig Red Barn by Margaret Wise Brown just has great illustrations of farm animals. G was a late talker so to have these adorable pictures to look at over and over helped him to cement the words into his brain. Plus, it is a lot of fun for him to find the butterfly on each page.

 

 

 

41thYQrg9jL._SL500_AA300_The Gift of Nothing by Patrick McDonnell (the author of Wag) is essentially a Christmas book, but imparts a lovely message any time of the year. When the little kitty in the story has a hard time finding a gift for his best friend he hunts down the gift of nothing…which turns out to be everything.

 

 

 

514fnIdXVQL._SY300_Mr Brown Can Moo! Can You? by Dr. Seuss is the best. It just really doesn’t get any better, but you have to be game. If you really let yourself get into this book you might find yourself  exhausted and your little one really revved up.  It’s never a great idea for us to read it just before bed.  In fact, I really hope no one else has ever heard us reading it out loud…we get a little weird.

 

 

 

61h3iuxAWuLThe Little Engine That Could by Watty Piper is a classic for a reason. A train and its passengers in need come across some snooty trains who won’t help them (aw), but they hang in there until a very affable and good mannered train uses all her strength to help out. She thinks she can and then she does, like the Carrot Seed, it’s a nice introduction to what can be accomplished if you believe in yourself.

 

 

51e4g6n3KaLWe love Harold & the Purple Crayon by Crockett Johnson because it takes so much imagination. Everything is so easy for kids these days, so many electronic options with all the bells and whistles. It’s lovely to watch your little one’s mind light up at the idea of a purple crayon that can make so much happen.

 

 

 

41yzK6XCT2LI have to confess Are You My Mother? by P.D. Eastman always scared me. It STILL scares me, but I guess life can be scary sometimes, so why not get used to it at an early age? I always enjoyed the book when the little bird asked the cow or cat or dog if he was his mama. But then he got to the scary rusted out car and noisy construction equipment and the whole thing got so dystopian. But in the end G thinks it’s hilarious that a bird would think an airplane was his Mama, so there you go.

 

 

 

19321The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter has finally happened in G’s mind. This is one of my all time favorite books on the planet. It’s also a little scary, what with Mr. MacGregor making Peter’s father into a pie, but I guess that’s the lesson. G understands and gets a little kick out of Peter when he’s naughty, but it is not lost on him that Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail get the berries and cream for supper becuase they were good little bunnies.

 

 

 

51RmtyK+pZL._SY300_The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf is a classic introduction to the idea that it’s ok to be different.  Maybe you’re a bull, maybe you’re supposed to want to fight and be tough and strong, but what if you don’t?  What if you want to quietly eat grass and read your book?  Ferdinand will help your little one begin to understand that it’s ok…we can all play to our own strengths.

 

 

 

81f5otnkPuL._SL1500_G’s Godmother passed down this Olivia book to us by Ian Falconer.  I wouldn’t have picked it up otherwise.  She’s a little girl pig after all, but just like Madeleine, Olivia has some very important, universal attributes.  She’s a kid, sometimes stubborn, sometimes dramatic, but always an individual.  To me there is nothing more important than to teach your child how to be an individual.  Plus it cracks me up that she tried to make a Jackson Pollock painting in her bedroom, so she had to have a time out.

 

 

 

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Besides…look what Olivia decides to wear to the princess birthday party…how can we not love her? amazon.com

More to come…

I Ran-A Cautionary Tale

WARNING: While this post is tagged under family, it is not quite family friendly. It addresses themes of an irreverent political and social nature. It may, in fact, even represent bad parenting. In short, Tatiana would highly disapprove…

But if you have a late night sense of humor (GG), or an SNL sense of humor (not you, GG), read on.

If not…well, consider yourself warned.

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thebreak.com

A lovely friend came to spend some time with us in Worcester, Mass a couple of weeks ago.

Somehow the topic of Adam Levine or Andy Samberg or Iran or Ahmadinejad came up, I can’t say for certain which one it was.

To the best of my recollection I said, ‘Oh ha ha ha, have you seen that video on SNL? It just cracks me up because that guy from Maroon 5 is so ridiculously serious.’

Then I played it for her while G sat on the floor and feverishly did a puzzle in the type of trance only a 3 year old can get himself into.

Now, before you read any further, click this link below to watch the full video or the rest of this post won’t make any sense.  Then click back!

Iran So Far

So later that day on a trip to Trader Joe’s, G started to sing, ‘I ran, I ran….ecuse me, what next MaMa?’

‘Uhhhhhhh. I don’t know sweetie,’ I replied stunned, ‘I-ran so far away?’

‘I-ran.  I ran so far away,’ he sang out, ‘what next?’

‘Uhhhhmmmm…You’re home and in my heart you’ll stay?’

Stop it…stop it, Elizabeth!  Don’t teach him the words to this song.  

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tumblr.com

I can’t stop!  I can’t help it, I’m so shocked he knows it at all, I just have no control over what I’m saying.  Besides, it’s harmless.  What are the chances he’ll ever sing it again after this car ride?  He doesn’t even sing wheels on the bus anymore. 

‘What next?’

‘Uhhhhh…I don’t know…how about…I look up to the sky, I look up to the sky, I look up to the sky, hiiiiiiiiiigh!’

Well, 2 weeks later, not only has he refined his technique in terms of pitch and rhythm, he performs this little chorus daily, constantly, ad nauseum, everywhere.

Baltimore Aquarium?  Busts it out with dance moves in front of friends and strangers alike.  Grocery store?  Sings it out while he runs down the aisle.  Maryland Science Museum?  It was not spared.

And while it is esoteric enough, I rue the day when he busts this little number out in front of that one, circa 2008 SNL watcher who gives me a shocked and appalled look—until then—may you learn from my mistakes.

The Nurse Maid

My father and stepmother have a dog named Tatiana, otherwise known as TaTa or Totty, but ever since G was born she has been known as the Nurse Maid.

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So proud.

One of the first times I brought G down to her house, he still had some sleep issues and would sometimes cry himself to sleep at nap time. I put him in a pac-n-play on the enclosed patio so he could nap in the cool breeze. I was tucked just inside, out of his sight, but he was not out of my earshot.

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‘I’m watching.’

Tatiana was completely unimpressed with my behavior. She went out onto the patio and circled the pac-n-play, clearly in distress. She barked and howled to get my attention as if to say…

‘UM HELLLOOOOOO!!!! Your child is clearly suffering out here while you’re what? Watching Oprah??’

Then she’d come inside and bark in my face. ‘Your. child. is. crying.’

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‘As if he could ride a bicycle with just these two for guidance.’

When G visited this time, nothing had changed. Totty slept outside the guest room door to protect him from would be predators…clearly she assumed I was not up for the task. The moment he woke up in the morning we would hear the click click click of her nails on the hard Spanish tile, coupled with her eager panting that said, ‘Move over lady—I’ve got this.’

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‘Hello—this is a glass table here people.’

When I took G out to the playground, apparently without her permission, I returned to quite an earful. She gave me a little nip on the hand that said, “Next time you take him somewhere, just ask me first…or better yet, take me along.”

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‘They’re letting him drink out of a coconut? Not on my watch.’

So it was no surprise to us when we were mulling over photos of G at his grandpa’s house that Totty was in practically EVERY shot, lingering in the background just to make sure no child labor laws were broken.

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‘Who’s going to keep him from falling into the pool? This lady? I don’t think so.’

Gone With the Wind

There is something to be said for the sheltered upbringing offered by a quiet, American suburb during the late 1980s/early 1990s. It was a life of safety and comfort, where anything and everything seemed possible if you just put your mind to it.  Bad things always happened to someone else, somewhere else and there was no internet or 24 hour news cycle to remind me otherwise. I just tossed my parent’s weekly TIME magazine along with life’s other questionable areas unexamined and unexplained into the junk drawer of my childhood.

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newurbanarchitect.com

I want to raise my son the same way.  Of course, the difficult aspect of this kind of upbringing is the shock you can experience when you begin to understand the more brutal reality of the world. It can unmoor your foundation, the very way you organized your understanding of things. Some might say this is simply the process of growing up. And that is true, to a certain degree. Lost idealism is a byproduct of aging of course.

This would be the moment when my almost 3 year old son would say, “Ecuse me MaMa. Why you talking about?”

“Well sweetie, when we were in Charleston I took you to visit the Magnolia Plantation and Gardens, and while its trees and flowers are very beautiful to look at, I can’t stop thinking about how to explain to you what happened at these old plantation houses that makes them important.”

“Oh.”

Azaleas and Live Oaks Magnolia Plantation South Carolina

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There is a story in my family about my great (or great great?) grandparents on my mother’s side I just can’t seem to shake out of my head lately. At some point in his life, my great grandfather made an untold amount of money in the slave trade. I’m not sure if he was in a sort of Jean Valjean position where he NEEDED that money to survive, or if he just saw it as a way to make some extra money.

When my great grandmother found out what he did (because let’s face it ladies, we always do) she was beside herself. They (or their parents?) had come to this country to make a better life. How could he then make money off the backs of people who almost certainly did not come here for a better life, but were instead forced to come here for a life of servitude and subordination?

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Well, we all tell ourselves whatever we need to tell ourselves in order to sleep at night. It’s part of human nature. Every time I turn on my iPad I think for a second about how and where it was made, what the lives of people are like in places where forced labor is the only way of life. But I turn it on anyway, in fact, I just lied, I don’t think about it every time I turn on my iPad, that’s just how much I’ve convinced myself I do.

Maybe my great grandfather thought, ‘Well, if I don’t do it, someone else will. It might as well be me who makes that money and uses it for my family.’ And that is not an illogical argument, it is not an untruth. It is a skill we as humans have to ensure our survival. In order to survive in the wilderness, any type of wilderness, we might have to step on one of our own. We can if we have the innate ability to rationalize our behavior. It’s an uncomfortable reality of life, of nature. But I wonder, if this tool humans have, this innate ability, is supposed to be utilized for survival or once you have enough to survive is it supposed to be used to enable the individual and those closest to him the ability to thrive?

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The entrance to the Magnolia Estate circa mid 1800s
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Some say yes, especially in this day and age, again…if you don’t, somebody else will.  But my great grandmother didn’t seem think so. When she found out what her husband did she instead put her own security at risk.  She made her husband make their home in Ohio part of the underground railroad. And he did. It was a crime punishable by a government who had not yet amended its Constitution. The barn of their house was one of many stops along the complex, word of mouth path to freedom for escaped slaves…it was also a path for dangerous bounty hunters and Federal Marshals.

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G just inside the entrance to the Magnolia Estate 2013

I love this story.  I want to teach my son to be brave like his great great (or great great great) grandmother, to move forward in life with unquestionable dignity and unwavering integrity.  The paradox of parenting, however, is I also want him to survive…and thrive.  I don’t want bounty hunters to ever come along his path.  So while I grapple with this, I suppose I’ll find a place to start G’s junk drawer.

Our next stop was Florida.

Eat Up Charleston

So of course, Emily, our foodie friend, once again bestowed a list on us for treats to be sure to get into your belly if you ever find yourself down in Charleston.  FAIR WARNING:  Nothing is low calorie here.  Nothing.  Not one thing.  So good luck with that.
oysters at The Ordinary

oysters at The Ordinary

See Emily’s words below with a few of my notes in bold:

Husk – Famous chef (Sean Brock) who is using nothing but local ingredients, right down to the chocolate and flour… He had a huge profile piece in the New Yorker. It’s the place to go in Charleston. Go there for lunch, brunch or dinner.  It’s in an old Victorian home in the historic district and is utterly charming. And the food is delicious.

Of course I took for granted that it is the best place in town and was never able to get a table.  Meow.

Cypress – Where Husk is old school, this place is modern. Very cool restaurant conveniently located in town. I recommend getting the patty melt. It’s a burger sandwich type thing that’s totally addictive. Oh my goodness so good. Rich and filling. Best to share. Of course there are a hundred other things on the menu that are winners too.

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she wasn’t lying!

WildFlour Pastry for sticky buns on Sundays! They are out of control. Go early, people literally line up for them. The woman who runs this place, Lauren Mitterer, is awesome and usually covered in flour and butter.  It’s tiny and they have yummy pastries and pot de crèmes, key lime pies, but the sticky buns – on Sundays only — are to die for.

You could actually die from them if you had one every Sunday.  But boy oh boy are they good.   

Sugar Bakeshop– charming, wonderful wonderful bakery for cookies, cupcakes, etc. Even little mini bite-size tarts that are fantastic. Everything inside this tiny space feels like you’ve stepped back in time. From the glass cookie jars to the old apothecary cases filled with treats. In a residential neighborhood, run by two fun guys (an architect from NY and his partner who is originally from Charleston).

Hominy Grill – fantastic place (near Sugar Bakeshop) for all that southern food – shrimp, grits, amazing biscuits, etc. It’s a lovely fun place to go for breakfast or lunch. Yum!

Are you kidding?  Tomato pudding.  That’s all I need to say, plus they are really kid friendly.

Peninsula Grill for a slice of Coconut Cake. They are famous famous famous for their utterly decadent Coconut Cake. And if you are downtown, it’s walking distance from everywhere.

If you are looking for old school cocktails (read: they take 5-10 minutes to concoct your cocktail, right down to the perfect ice cube) try the Gin Joint. On the same street as Cypress.

If you have time and a car, try heading out to Bowens Island (they open at 5pm) for the ultimate seafood shack experience. Super fun!

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The Ordinary under a full moon.

NOOOO!!!  They are closed on Sundays so we missed this spot too.  It’s well worth planning ahead when you dine out in this town, it’s small so places fill up fast.  

But not to be defeated we found a new spot called The Ordinary where we indulged in all kinds of expertly prepared seafood and fresh oysters.  The space opened in 2012 and is in my favorite phase of a restaurant—the extra hospitable phase.  

The beautiful, open space was full so we sat at the oyster bar where you can see inside the kitchen to watch the chef and staff at work, a very methodic ballet.  

Chef Mike Lata spotted G at the bar and asked us if he’d like a little something special which his young son enjoys.  He brought out amazing, smokey baked beans and mashed potatoes you could frost a cake with.  It was a terrific experience.

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The chef sending G out in a mashed potato induced coma.

This is the South

We spent our time in Charlotte, North Carolina in constant deliberation as to whether or not we should take G to Urgent Care for a persistent, week long fever of 104 (!!!).  BUT—we were able to visit a playground to see this ladybug…

IMG_0075the Discovery Place to see this octopus…

IMG_0181and Michael was even able to get this killer shot of G while he peeked into a mini aquarium…

IMG_0172Sorry Charlotte. That’s all we had time for.  We hear you have a lovely NASCAR museum. Maybe next time.

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A drinking fountain in the historic battery

But then we were off to Charleston, South Carolina (where of course I got sick—but are Moms really allowed to be sick? No…not really).

Charleston. Oh Charleston. Of all the towns we’ve visited in the United States, Charleston has thrilled me the most. This is not just because I am sort of an old fogey who signs her name like she just signed the Declaration of Independence, but because it took me by surprise. I paid attention to boys in high school when I should have paid attention to my history teacher, so I was shocked to learn that Charleston is steeped not only in Civil War history, but in Revolutionary War history as well. It rivals Boston, New Orleans and even New York City for its beautifully preserved, historic architecture.

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Rainbow Row-a section of restored homes

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I tried to convince M to forget about us and instead to focus on the tiny alley behind us.  It was once an original street

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When you walk down these alleyways you find hidden, perfectly preserved houses from the 1700s.

I wish I had the time to write a fully detailed post about the many incredible sights, but alas…not only do I not, we also didn’t have the opportunity to explore nearly as much as we would have liked. It is definitely a spot Michael and I decided we would visit for a long weekend again one day when we can take the proper tourist horse and buggy ride.

Of course, not only is Charleston full to the brim with history, it is also full of incredible food…most of it sweet.  In fact, one hot afternoon I ordered mint iced tea from a man who asked if I wanted sweetened or unsweetened.

‘How sweet is sweet?’  I asked.

‘This is the south,’ he said.

The Wrong Direction

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In addition to visiting the Home of Ralphy while we were in Cleveland, we also made it to the Great Lakes Science Center (and had a fabulous dinner with my Great Aunt, her son and his wife at The Greenhouse Tavern).

The Science Center holds many a joy for the young at heart, including a room full of rubber balls Michael was able to snap a few existential shots of:

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There was also an Egyptian exhibit, replete with mysterious activities such as Archeological Digs…

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Pyramid Building…

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and faux Camel Back Riding…

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And while I love the above photo almost more than life itself, you can imagine my surprise (horror/dismay) when my One Direction obsessed girlfriend sent me a photo of the One Direction bandmate doll someone just gave her 7 year old daughter.

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Now who gave this kid a copy of Ines de la Fressange‘s Parisian Chic?  Fess up!

Next we hit The Carolinas…

G’Day

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“Well,” I said to my cousin’s husband over Thanksgiving this past year, “this is what will probably happen…we’ll join Michael on the road with Les Mis until August 2013, then the show is supposed to head to Toronto for 6 months, then possibly back to Broadway 2014. So if it all goes according to plan, we’ll only be traveling for a year and change before we’re back in the city.”

I paused for a moment and looked at the floor, then we both doubled over with laughter.

“Wow! That just sounds too easy doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “that sounds way too uncomplicated, Bets.”

I look back fondly on that moment while I bring you this news…

Michael was just hired by Disney to be the Resident Director of The Lion King starting in October of this year in Sydney…

Australia.

How could we say no?

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