The Mesozoic Era, the Middle East, and Hogwarts

July 22, 2011 - the pop-up dinosaur book

"Here, Mummy! Mummy, here! The Mesozoic Era!" she calls to me as she throws the book on my bed and begins the climb up.

Molly is fascinated by dinosaurs and frequently asks me to read books with her on the subject. Last month, I bought some miniature figures to add to her collection. I thought that we could compare our figures to images in the book for the purposes of identification. She loves that idea.

In June -- I think it was June -- we read Mary Pope Osborne's first in the Magic Tree House series: Dinosaurs Before Dark.

It's intended for children aged 6 to 9 years but the information it contains is pretty scant.  Frankly, I can't imagine a nine-year-old being satisfied with it. I know my four-year-old wasn't; thankfully, however, she's still of an age where meaning is found in amazing, unexpected places, and the mechanism of time travel was more important to her. It didn't matter where anyone landed, just that someone left now and went to then.

I enjoyed reading it with Molly. We call it our first chapter book. I'm not sure that it is our first but it definitely was a good time. I ended up having to teach her, and therefore teach myself, about the Mesozoic Era and the different kinds of prehistoric animals. 

We have a book called My First Book of Dinosaurs which she loves -- we get to look at what modern-day animals may have looked like about 65 million years or so ago.

At the local library, we've spent a lot of time mostly playing and reporting the girls' reading for the book club. Most recently, Molly devoured 35 books as I begged for the opportunity to redirect her. I even told her that it was quite a funny position for a mother to be in at a library: Telling a child to go play--i.e.,instead of reading--isn't something you imagine that you'd hear yourself saying.

-- I want to read 500 books and win the contest!

-- You do? That's a lot of books.

-- Is there a contest, Mummy?

-- No.

-- Oh. How many have we read?

-- Thirty-five. But, if there were a contest, we would have won it.

-- Yay!

I think, however, that anyone listening would have taken my side: My throat was hurting and we were far enough from her goal of 500 books, anyway, that pausing wouldn't have affected our progress.

Among those books was at least one title of the How Do Dinosaurs . . . series by Jann Yolen and Mark Teague. So, really, a day without dinosaurs hasn't gone by this summer.

Then, on August 1, as most of my summer nights have unfolded, I lay back and read another few chapters of Almost Dead by Assaf Gavron -- and finished it! Set in modern Israel, involving two men, one Jewish and one Palestinian, it is a mixture of satire and fact that really has my head spinning. It's clever, far more so than I think that I am able to appreciate at this point in my life, and it's so much funnier than I'd anticipated. 

I suspect that once I start to write about this book, it will go on for years: It's that important to me. Yes, but that's it; I won't say anything more about this book until I have sat down to write about it more meaningfully. 

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts . . .

Devyn and Keith are now reading Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince (6th book). I believe I stopped after Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (5th book), so I have no idea what's going on in the series at that point.

Because I'm not part of the Harry Potter book club at home, I asked Keith about his impressions of the reading time that he and Devyn spend together. First, he says, she's "absolutely enthralled" and he is amazed that, at her age (8), she can follow a story so well through six books. She knows the characters very well and understands the significance of plot events.

Each night, before reading, Keith asks her key questions about the prior sitting and asks her to make predictions; he says that she always gives intelligent answers.

What I find most touching is his report that she likes to follow his reading on the page. (Her reading, incidentally, has improved by leaps and by bounds over the past few months.)

Both us of were aware at the outset that the subject matter of the books would be, at times, frightening and mature; Keith says she handles it very well.

She knows the characters and greatly empathizes with Harry.

Though she and I have our books that we plan to read together, I know that Devyn really wants to be at Hogwarts right now with her Dad, so I don't press the issue. Our time to read together again will come, most likely, in a few months.

---

Many changes are taking place here, on this blog, and some of them are not quite finished .

I plan to re-establish links between book images and the relevant blog posts as well as to create more pages . . .

So, don't mind the dust.

Aliens have invaded my house!

Molly loves the idea of outer space and all that our ideas and images of it in popular culture and science entail: stars, planets, aliens, and rocket ships . . .  She has even, over the past year, discussed her notion of an afterlife (though why or how she was thinking about what happens after death is beyond me): we are all going to end up in outer space at some terminal point.  There's even such a thing as a baby planet, she tells me.

Just a few days ago, out of the blue, she informed me that it's perfectly safe to go to outer space, to ride in a rocket ship, without your mother.  I agreed.

Still, I was surprised a few weeks earlier when I thought I could hear Keith reading aloud and, when I peeked around the corner, there he was, cuddled up with both girls, in his office. He was reading, My Teacher Is An Alien by Bruce Coville.  So, she had succeeded! I concluded.  Such interest and determination! Molly had finally convinced someone to read that book to her because she realized that I had been stalling. 

I did indeed stall on more than one occasion by asking her to tell me what she thought the book was about, what do the (few, black-and-white) pictures mean, etc. and then proposing some really exciting activity that could have us leave the book until another time.  I hadn't fooled her.  I just didn't think the book was appropriate for her yet I've always had a pretty liberal stance in that regard.  The target audience was 9-12 year.  It pushed the limits of my own belief that books shouldn't be off-limits.

As she and Devyn were both enjoying it nightly, calling repeatedly for "just one more chapter", I saw no reason to intervene or to object.  But I was still a little uncomfortable.

Fast forward to last week's Friday movie night.  Aliens in the Attic was the decision but I immediately grew uncomfortable with  the idea. This state was only exacerbated by almost everything said and done in the film up to the point that I, finally, convinced Molly to come upstairs with me.  I was drawing a line.

"Come on, Molly. This movie's not for you.  Let's go upstairs."

"It's fine. I'm OK."

"Molly, I'm telling you that the movie's not appropriate. I'll read a story and we'll cuddle."

"No, Mummy. The movie is just fine. Please, stop."

"Molly, the movie is NOT fine.  There is violence and . . ."

"It's not violent. I'm going to be OK."

"There's a gun!"

"It's a paintgun!"

"But it is for shooting with, so it's a weapon of violence."

"It just shoots orange stuff on somebody and it doesn't even hurt.  It's not a REAL gun."

"Molly, I'm not comfortable with you watching this and I've made my decision."

"Here," she says, getting to a standing position on the sofa. "Maybe if I cuddle in your lap, you'll feel better."

I'm holding her at this point.

"I get to make these decisions because you're only three," I speak into her copious hair.

"I'm not three! I am 3 and 3/4's!"

Well, folks.  I did win.  It wasn't lost on me that, if she could argue so well, she would probably have been just fine watching the movie.  Grey areas.  Gotta love 'em.

And the winner is . . .

Pippi Longstocking.

Having finished Mary Poppins -- and enjoying the solitude afforded me by my weekly babysitter for Molly -- I intrepidly approached the basement stairs a few Wednesdays ago.  At the bottom lay one of dozens of bins containing children's books and I had the enjoyable yet daunting task of selecting a range of books from which Devyn (mostly) would choose our next read. My pile included:

Pippi Longstocking
Beezus and Ramona
The Prince and the Pauper
The Littles

So, as I sorted through the now dusty lot, it occurred to me that I hadn't read many of the classics in grade school. Why not? Why weren't they in the curriculum from year to year? They were available in the school libraries and we could discover them or be directed to them occasionally; but they weren't emphasized in my primary classes.

Just as importantly, why weren't the classics read to us on a regular basis? Etched into my brain somewhere is an image of myself as a grade one student sitting cross-legged in the library while listening to the outrageous behaviour of the Herdman children in The Best Christmas Pageant Ever (Barbara Robinson). I later revisited that book over and over again (though I sometimes mistakenly remember it as The Worst Christmas Pageant Ever, and, if you've ever read it, you'll know why). Only a couple of other periods of being read to in school -- once in grade five, another in grade ten -- really stand out.  I want my children to end up with more memories than I have in this regard.

I want to foster an appreciation of reading but I also want to give the girls a literary foundation before they enter secondary school. It doesn't have to take the fun out of reading; fun is built into the experience: Devyn speaks about and looks forward to our reading sessions before bed; the end of one book promises the beginning (and selection) of another; we spend one-on-one time together which is very special to us.

What I really like is the idea that, over the years, story after story, the girls will recognize that books tend to "speak" to one another long after they're read: associations arise, alternative interpretations occur to us, light shines on areas that we hadn't noticed before. I've found that while reading Middle Eastern/South Asian literature, The Arabian Nights (and all the variations of the title) has been of great value to me.

And doesn't narrative just seem to work its way into our lives? How much of our reading to this point in our lives is affected by our early exposure to, for example, Alice in Wonderland? The expressions in popular culture that derive from this story abound. (I fondly recall that the parallels between Homer's Odyssey and the Star Wars phenomenon, as well as other cultural events, was a favourite topic of one my late professors.) I hope that this endeavour of mine to ensure that the girls inherit many of the classics enriches their lives as adults.

In general, and not that Dora doesn't have her place, I want the girls to have more sources of cultural information in addition to what they receive via media, school, and peers.  Clearly, I can't control the messages that they receive through media and peer exposure (though I firmly believe even stemming the flow and limiting sources is possible and that it helps), but I can exchange one channel of information for another and mitigate the influences. So, this summer, but for a few isolated events, I turned off the television and introduced Devyn to another form of entertainment that went beyond the few minutes of bedtime stories that children expect; and, we often read for hours because we just can't wait to find out what happens in the next chapter . . .

So, my resolve strengthened, I realized, after carrying my little pile of books upstairs:  Devyn and I (and later, Molly and I) would read the classics of children's literature; not exclusively, not consecutively, but consistently.

So, Pippi.  One of my favourite childhood characters.  I actually remembered little of her except the lopsided braids.  How appropriate, considering the time of year, that, tomorrow, Pippi goes to school.

__

Astrid Lindgren - Official site (English)
Astrid Lindgren - Wikipedia
Pippi Longstocking

Astrid Lindgren's World

Mary, Mary . . .

Despite time constraints, Devyn and I have almost finished Mary Poppins.

The omniscient third-person narration is divided into chapter-sectioned anecdotes. She's a woman who has access to the unwritten laws of the world; she really does know more than the average nanny and more than the average person; she is exciting, if not a little intimidating, to be around. 

In her presence, animals and infants can speak with each other; actual journeys into pictures occur where imagination is tangible; relationships that require little conventional conversation transpire.

She may be an efficient nanny but Mary P. is also arrogant and possesses a sharp tongue.  This surprised me.  I think we'll have to watch the movie this week once we've actually finished the novel.

And so we've decided . . .

As soon as the shape was inside the gate the wind seemed to catch her up into the air and fling her at the house. It was as though it had flung her first at the gate, waited for her to open it, and then had lifted and thrown her, bag and all, at the front door.  The watching children heard a terrific bang, and as she landed the whole house shook.

Devyn loved the magic of Mary Poppins once she realized that the woman could slide up railings and pull endless items out of an ostensibly empty bag.

What enhanced my experience of the reading was that we have a particularly old copy of the book.Plus, serendipity being what it is, I found a packet of Certs (original flavour) just as I was about to read and gladly allowed her to have her first one.

She cuddled me, watched me as I read, closed her eyes and allowed herself to be drawn into the narrative. 

But today wasn't about Mary Poppins until the end.  Before this, as Devyn attended a pottery day camp at the local art school, Molly and I headed to the library.  There, she pulled book after book for me to read; in all, there were 19 books most of which were pretty short. Her selections aren't always so short but today I was pretty grateful that they were and, thankfully, as I grew tired, she decided to play and didn't choose a 20th title.

I thought it funny that people commented on the number of books that Molly wanted me to read to her since the place was crowded with children and parents participating in some sort of read-for-prizes club. But it might have been the rapid-fire pace with which the process of choosing, sitting, and reading, took place that drew attention to us.

At any rate, I declined to participate in the reading club this year, not knowing if I would actually have to list each book then and there and have Molly recount all 19 stories.  She gladly would have done it but it was, as I say, crowded, noisy, and chaotic to the degree that even Molly remarked on this and asked if we could leave.

Jon, Flora and the Odd-Eyed Cat by Stella Pevsner

Devyn and I love reading novels together.  Last night, we finished Jon, Flora and the Odd-Eyed Cat.

I loved reading with Devyn.  The book itself was disappointing, especially the end.

But Devyn loved it. I recall that, as we were selecting a book to read from one of our bins, she wanted to read it because she adored the cover.  She now thinks it is the most interesting story she's ever read. She especially enjoyed the variety of characters. She wishes she herself could be Flora.

I've proposed reading Mary Poppins next but Devyn would like to examine our options before agreeing.  Fair enough.

I've developed a list habit . .

10 Awesome and Inappropriate Books for Kids

While there, scroll down to find a list of five books that would have "traumatized us as children".

(found via Flavorpill via Twitter)

Notes / Molly's reading interests

Molly has never met a book she didn't like. Lately, however, she has bonded with an inexpensive encyclopedic series for older children; so, our conversations about them have caused me discomfort because she wants more information than I anticipated.

Holding a book on the human body -- which is illustrated in a colourful but standard way -- she asks me about a human figure: "What's this?" and "what's this?" she asks several times.

"Our bodies have skin, and under our skin are muscles, tendons, and bones. We call the collection and structure of the bones a skeleton," I try to explain, obviously flustered trying to keep up with her.

"I have skin and bones and muscles."

"Yes," I say, kind of relieved. I mean, she's two-and-a-half. She gets it.

"And intestines."

Huh?

"I have intestines." She rubs her abdomen.

The next book waiting for me (she's waiting for me) after I write this post is about ancient history.

Notes / Reading with Devyn

Devyn and I spent every spare moment reading a chapter book together yesterday: The Red Ghost. It marked a change. I've always wanted to introduce her to the ghost genre of children's books and this was the best time.

I worried that she'd be frightened, even though the target audience of The Red Ghost is six to eight or nine years. I worried that she might not be able to follow along with the plot or the subplot.

The reference to a significant period in history could have been an obstacle.

I was wrong on all counts. Instead, she surprised me. In response to my, "What did ya think?" She said, "I'm disappointed."

"Why? What didn't you like?"

"Well, why did it have to come at the end?"

"What at the end?"

"The ghost."

"Good question! Do you think it should it have appeared at the beginning?"

"No, it should have come in somewhere in the middle."

I was proud of her, of this independence of thought, of this opinion of hers that wasn't at all groundless.

The suspense just hadn't worked for her; it had annoyed her.

But, anyway, as August rolls in, I'm reminded that my time with Devyn is about to change dramatically: We won't be together everyday or every weekday that she's not in school because she'll be in school full time. From this point on, it's about Devyn gradually letting go of our time together in order to embrace new and more complex social environments.

We'll have to work harder to get in those chapter books. I already know the next title to introduce to her; the earlier title, The Blue Ghost, followed by The Secret of the Painted House. Where we'll go from there, I don't yet know.

The Red Ghost
(a Stepping Stones book)
Marion Dane Bauer
Illustrated by Peter Ferguson
Random House
April 2008
Trade Paperback

Reading-less

Camping, preparing two birthday parties, having two birthday parties, in the same week left little room to read.

But I've never tried so hard -- and failed -- to read. While camping earlier in the week, I couldn't charge my Treo telephone (a problem I've had for months and which is worsening). I was fumbling in the car every chance I got, trying to make the car charger communicate through an unyielding socket. It never worked.

So, with the charge at less than 30 per cent, and once the kids were sleeping in the tent, on the last night I sat in a mesh-enclosed gazebo with the moist air heavy on my skin and in my clothes. I tried to read the last of The Hakawati but the mosquitoes had found a way in and, frankly, I felt burdened under cold clothes and under the stress of a relentless downpour.

That was my final effort because there wasn't an opportunity until this morning. On the way to Devyn's second birthday party, as promised, I read the girls a story in the car: Eloise and the Very Secret Room. OK, it wasn't from my bookshelf but this little bit of reading time made the girls so happy -- made me happy -- that it settled us all: It anchored us to a small part of our routine that was otherwise lost this week.



Ready-to-Read, Level 1 book based on the art of Hilary Knight -- Kay Thompson (Author), Ellen Weiss (Author), Tammie Lyon (Illustrator)

The curse of Scooby Doo

This morning, Devyn asked me to read her a story. She produced a school library book and we sat on the sofa to read Shiny Spooky Knights (Scooby-Doo! Readers, Level 2) by Gail Herman (Author), Duendes Del Sur (Illustrator).

Just a few pages in:

"What's a Mummy?"

"It's the effect of a process that some ancient cultures used to preserve a person's body after death. Mummies don't come back to life."

"What's a vampire?"

"In folklore, the vampire is a person who drinks blood, has to stay out of the sun in order to survive and who doesn't die. Most people don't believe that vampires exist."

"What's a witch?"

"A witch is often depicted as an old, green woman who wears black and who stands over a pot making magic potions and who can cast spells on people using magic. But, really, a witch is someone who practices a religion called Wicca. Wiccans love the earth and nature and it's a very peaceful religion."

"What's a zombie?"

"A zombie is a dead person whose body is brought back to life under mysterious circumstances. But they don't live as people; they're scary looking. Most people don't believe they exist." (Ed. I left out the David Wade books, thinking that perhaps she has enough to think about at this point in her life.)

"Why are they chasing Shaggy and Scooby?"

"Well, because we've read this book before, we know that they are really people dressed up in costumes who want to invite Scooby and his friends to a party."

"Why do they want to invite them to a party?"

"Uh, I don't know."

Mother and Child

Though I've tried and failed to keep an accurate count and I can't remember the content of all, I've read several hundred children's books over the past three or so years. This morning, I actually had pause to think of some that I've held while cuddled up to my babies.

Some have been too didactic for my tastes while others have been set to rhymes that have made me cringe. But I think I've enjoyed most of our repertoire, especially those that illustrate some poignant, universal qualities of the parent-young child relationship and wherein the expression or acknowledgment of which usually culminates in the mother reassuringly saying, "I love you."

I'm thinking of such titles: The Runaway Bunny; Olivia; Goodnight, My Duckling . . .

Very sweet. Every mother can recognize her own relationhip in the narrative and everyone feels warm and fuzzy at this point. Even a memorably difficult parenting day depicted in Harriet, You'll Drive Me Wild by Mem Fox ends with this tacit understanding of shared affection.

So, what prompted the memories of these books?

Just moments before, after joining my family in the tornadic swirl of activity that has become breakfast, I looked at my loving little 21-month-old as she reached for a piece of waffle:

"I love you, Molly." I said in a syrup-y, sing-song voice.

"I know."

Because she usually says "too" in this game, everyone laughed at the unexpected, matter-of-fact response.

But I was also stunned as well as amused. A sharp contrast to the content of those books was definitely not what I'd been set up for over the past few years, yet her first two-word response to "I love you" was really very funny.

And she's off!

It finally occurred to me the other day -- as Devyn read a book without any preparation or hesitation -- that she is now a reader. Yesterday, I realized she is also a printer when she showed me a sentence she had written on her own without dictation.

Wow. I've waited for these moments as I recalled taking a book impatiently from my own mother's hands and deciding to read it myself as she wasn't doing it "just right". I was probably Devyn's age.

The little reader books sent home each day gave her confidence to just "let go" and jump in.

The school's curriculum includes this as a goal: kindergartner's reading and printing. They started preparing in JK and now the feelings I experience as she is reading and printing are beyond joy. I'm happy for her, really very happy for her and another little reader has popped up in the universe.

Catching up. Working out is working out. And I'm tired.

I don't actually know what the seven habits of highly effective people are and I've never really cared, frankly.

But, I have noticed that habits -- good ones -- have become a part of our life in the past five months.

I work out -- HARD -- six or seven days a week. This means that I walk one hour (total) to and from the gym. This means that my children get fresh air: the baby gets five days a week and the older one gets two days one week, three the next. The older one walks at least three hours a week. They need snacks at the gym's childcare and I'm pretty strict about what they can and cannot eat.

My trainer and I meet Tuesdays and he pushes hard for an hour. I'm not able to do his workouts on the day before or on the day after the training session. I can't usually go to the gym Thursday because of an appointment for Molly (at least for two more weeks), so, when you do the math, I have to be there six times a week in order to get in two resistance-circuit workouts: two of those workouts and four regular, high-intensity cardio sessions on special machines that I actually really enjoy.

Devyn says, "Ah, mom, you always go to the gym!" This can't be a bad thing because she tells people her mom goes to the gym in order to be healthy because exercise is good for you. She says when she gets older, she wants to do the same. I've told her that her weekly ballet lessons are good exercise as well as great fun.

Also, I've met people whereas before I was rather more isolated, knowing only a handful of people spread throughout the province/globe.

Plus, very importantly, I get "me" time. I get at least one hour a day during which I'm doing something for myself, by myself. This has mileage because I'm such a solitary person.

Tired but rewarded . . .

Devyn

She had her first report card this month: she did very well academically and socially. What else is there at five? Her interest in crafts has really taken off. Her ballet and music teachers are happy. Her music teacher thinks Devyn is a natural musician. She plays piano but speaks often of wanting to play the violin. Do we allow two instruments? Ugh. I don't know. Would we be overscheduling? In our opinion, she needs to stick with the piano.

She does tend to talk in the ballet and music classes, a habit we need to break. She talks back to me and Keith a lot but we're working on that.

She loves science and natural processes. She loves adding and subtracting and explaining things to people. Keith bought her a high-powered, professional microscope for Christmas.

She likes to perform experiments and she is constantly moving around. I don't know how she does it.

She is a negotiator. She loves to argue. She loves opera and tea. She discovered opera with her grandmother back in November.

Molly

I'm by myself with the girls one to two weeks out of the month as Keith travels for work to London and Manchester UK, as well as to Greenville, South Carolina. This would be easier if Molly and Devyn didn't have so many appointments: Devyn sees an asthma clinic, a pediatrician and an allergist pretty much monthly; Molly sees a host of specialists, including, coming up, a speech pathologist. They want to evaluate her because she speaks like a two-year-old and she's 19 months old.

My pediatrician and his partner told me that Molly not only speaks but listens and acts like a two-year-old instead of a year-and-a-half-old and commended me for teaching her English Sign Language. It reduces the frustration (pinching,biting, kicking, hitting) that she is not yet supposed to experience where communication is concerned. I used to have bruises all along my arms before I started teaching English Sign Language. I have been bruise-free for months now!

Her development kind of makes me nervous because I'm not sure what to do: she wants to toilet train (she knows the process). She lets me know when her diaper needs to be changed and that it WILL need to be changed. Do I try to train her now? She insists on dressing herself. She identifies letter magnets: i, e, d, m, b. She follows commands of three or more sentences. We always joke that we just hope she'll use her powers for good when she's older. Wasn't I supposed to have 6 more months of baby-ish hood? I went from baby to two right away! But she CAN have time-outs now, so that helps.

What's very tiring is that she wants me to read to her ALL the time. I jokingly refer to this as her non-fiction phase because they're books about objects that she wants labelled and explained though stories do appear in the rotation. It's HARD to read the same books all the time.

We've read this book 11x since I started writing this morning:



It was Parenting Magazine's book of the year in 1999. I'm beginning to hate it this morning.

She loves dolls and tea sets and pretending with a dolly stroller which is fun for me and Devyn.

We call her Molly Two-Two because she always wants two of everything.

Anyway . . .

Devyn and I will get some quality mummy-and-me time this weekend: We're going to see The Nutcracker as performed by the National Ballet of Cuba. I bought her a little gown for the occasion and we've been reading a rather diluted version of the story in the past couple of days. I'm looking forward to it. I hope she enjoys it because I would like it to become a Christmas tradition. We shall see . . .

For the record

It has taken me over a week to write this post.