Books I'm saving for my grandchildren

Children's books floor me. The well-written ones, that is. Boy, are there some crap kid's books out there. But the good ones--they're like magic. They seem so simple and effortless, and yet they're such a pleasure to read out loud. Damn it, I wish I could do that.

I love some of Henry's books more than he does. And even now that he's (maybe) outgrown these, I will be keeping them. Forever and ever.

Hondo and Fabian

Hondo is the dog. Fabian is the cat. Hondo goes to the beach. Fabian stays home.

I not only want Hondo and Fabian to be my dog and my cat, I want to live in this world. Look how peaceful it is! Nothing bad ever happens in Hondo and Fabian's home. You can tell. There is always tidiness and order and turkey sandwiches.

I bought Hondo and Fabian when I was pregnant with Henry. One look at the pictures, and I was hooked. We read it together pretty much from the time he was born, and even though it's way too babyish for him now, he'll still deign to let me read it to him, if only to humor me. He is a patient and understanding boy. While I'm reading it I try not to cry into his hair.

Cars and Trucks and Things that Go

All the Richard Scarry books are so charming and magical and witty, but I especially love this book. It's like ten books in one. Henry has loved it since he could sit up, and he'll still spend an afternoon flipping through it, when he thinks I'm not looking. It's incredibly weird, like all excellent children's books are.

The Story of Ferdinand

Ferdinand is a gentle bull. He doesn't want to fight in the bullring, like all the other young bulls do. All he wants is "to sit just quietly and smell the flowers."

I love that "just." The first thing I was told in my first writing class was to remove the word "just" from all of my stories, but that is one hell of a perfect "just." 

And check out this line [the italics are my own]: "His mother saw that he was not lonesome, and because she was an understanding mother, even though she was a cow, she let him just sit there and be happy."
Even though she was a cow. Come ON.

Also, is she not the best mom ever? I wish I could be as sanguine about my kid when he refuses any and all opportunities to get some fresh air. She leaves him alone, and Ferdinand ends up being happy and content with himself!  Some of the best children's books are also excellent parenting guides.

Toot and Puddle

There are a bunch of Toot and Puddle books, but I'm partial to the first, which was gifted to Henry by my friend Lexie. (I've also heard that there's a Toot and Puddle cartoon, but I have never seen it and hope to never have to. Don't ruin the Toot and Puddle who live in my head! Yes, they live in my head! Don't judge me!)

The watercolor illustrations are stunning. And I never stopped snickering at the name "Woodcock Pocket," because I am a child. Also, what is this relationship between Toot and Puddle? They've got some kind of Boston marriage going on, here. And yes, I realize that's a term reserved for two women, but you tell me what you'd call this Bert-and-Ernie living situation going on between two pigs. You tell me!

So! I'm sure you have some favorites, too. And now you're going to share them with me and the rest of us. Yes, you are. Go on.


Read this: Half-Baked

I love Alexa, and I’ve been a fan of her blog, Flotsam, since I found it. Back then, five long years ago, she was not yet married, not yet undergoing IVF, not yet mourning the loss of her son Ames, not yet dealing with the premature birth of her daughter Simone.

A lot’s happened to Alexa in the past five years.

Having followed her life in real time, I was looking forward to reading her book, but honestly, I kind of thought I’d be reading a lot of stuff I already knew about. Alexa is a singularly charming writer, and I knew I’d enjoy it, mind you. But part of me hesitated, because it was about pregnancy and babies and I’m done with all that. Then the more intelligent part of me purchased the book, because after all, this was Alexa. Duh.

I expected a diverting read, but I was blown away. Half-Baked is really, really good. I knew how it ended, I knew all the high points and low points along the way, and I was still mesmerized. I started reading on Sunday and I was finished by Tuesday. I read it every chance I could get. I lost sleep so I could read more. Sleep is my favorite thing to do, and I gave it up, for Alexa.

In a lot of ways, Half-Baked is a much more intimate look at what Alexa and her husband Scott went through than her blog was. Which makes sense: I can imagine that writing in the moment, especially when your child is in such a precarious state, you might not give voice to your darkest fears; you’re conscious of your audience and their expectations; you have to soldier on, and you’re distracted and exhausted and overwhelmed. It’s only afterward that you can look back and fully describe what you went through. And I’m so glad she did.

In short, this book is in no way a retread of her blog: it’s funny, it’s sad, and it’s gripping. I was so annoyed to find this in the “Pregnancy and Childcare” section of Barnes and Noble that I refused to buy it there. This is a memoir, and a first-rate one at that.

Twenty-three skiddoo!

When Maggie first told me about her book, No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas for Your Blog, I thought, that’s going to be a great resource--for someone else. For the lame-o who can’t come up with a single topic to post about. Not to put those losers down! But such a book—wonderful as it would undoubtedly be—would nonetheless not be of use to myself, the greatest creative mind of the 21st century.

As in most things, I have been proven wrong. It’s a goldmine of inspiration even for the veteran blogger who thinks she knows her way around these parts. In fact it may be even more useful for such a person, who might be feeling a tad blocked these days, who may be thinking, “I’ve been writing this damn thing for two and a half years and I’ve covered every topic under the sun. I DESERVE TO TELL THEM ABOUT MY LUNCH.”

(Leftover shepherd’s pie and a Fun-Sized Twix bar. See? Haven’t you gained something from knowing that?)

The topic I’ve chosen from Maggie’s book is #14, “Watch Your Language,” in which I am to list some archaic words or phrases I wish would come back into popular use. I have many of these, as I find living in the present highly distasteful. Here are a few:

Vo- dee-oh-do. Sometimes “Vo-dee-oh-do-do.” Either way, it’s a winner. This was used to great effect in the Little Rascals to describe some colorful and suspicious individuals. “They were a couple of vo-dee-oh-dos.” According to Google it was also used in "Laverne and Shirley" as a euphemism for sex, but no one wants to imagine either Laverne or Shirley in that way, so let’s go with the former useage.

Jackanapes and cock of the walk. Preferably used together. “He thinks he’s a real cock of the walk, but I say he’s nothing but a jackanapes.”

Conniptions. No one talks about anyone having conniptions anymore. That’s a shame. I myself make it a habit of having a conniption at least once a day, just to give someone the opportunity to use this glorious word.

…see? I believe everyone should end every statement with “see?” It’ll make you sound like a character in Double Indemnity. At the very least, you’ll sound like my Grandpa. Either way I will love you.

What olde-timey words or phrases would you like to come back? Place your requests here!