Just Another Wrinkle

If I could transfer my thoughts directly to the page by only thinking, this post would have been completed in time for Monday, but I got distracted. I am allowing myself to accept that sometimes there is just another wrinkle that gets in the way of a smooth journey. That's what  happened since Friday's post.
A wrinkle--something unexpected, unplanned that may have a positive outcome, a negative outcome, or just an outcome that makes one think. That's what a medical diagnosis of thyroid cancer appears to be, as of now--just a wrinkle. It may be the most common and easily treated type with little to no complications, but it was unexpected, and not welcome. And perhaps it will all be fine. I'm sure, though, that  those who have told me, "Oh, I know people who had that done, and they're just fine" may not remember, I'm guessing, that the initial diagnosis likely terrified those people for a time as well as filled them with a mix of emotions for a bit. So, whatever I feel belongs to me and is allowed.
As for the diagnosis, it is what it is.
I have surgery on Wednesday, and should be "okayish" on Thursday. Writing these posts enlightens me. When I can express myself via writing, I am in my element. Content. Peaceful. Focused. Writing is my life and feeling motivated by something that I am passionate about, is a true gift.
So, I shall accept this recent wrinkle, and work to smooth out the fabric that comes after.
Now, on to my fun post.

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An assignment in my graduate class toward becoming a media specialist involved the creation of an award for literature. I considered several directions, but due to time limitations (imagine a full semester course fit into only one month with a 10-day residency for another graduate program thrown into the mix) I settled on the idea of  the "Wrinkle Award" for picture books with "an unusual twist" or “wrinkle” that usually makes a reader groan or scratch her head or laugh or just continue thinking about it long after the book closes.
I am a lover of bad jokes--not raunchy ones, just the ones that elicit groans. I love an unexpected good twist, dark humor, and of course thought-provoking tales.
While I created a page to share my Wrinkle Award choices (you can click here to see it and view the criteria or choose directly from the link under "Literature Pages"), I wish to start an ongoing list of books that meet the Wrinkle criteria. I may or may not like all of the books as I grow my list, but other readers may have a different perspective. So, all Wrinkle books have merit.

These are all just one girl's opinion.

My first "wrinkle" book of memory:
The Latke Who Couldn't Stop Screaming: A Christmas Story by Lemony Snicket; Illustrated by Lisa Brown; Copyright 2007.
I gave this book to an interfaith couple at the holiday time several years ago, knowing that they would probably enjoy the humor.
This dark humor story brings the reader to a house where a potato latke has been "born". As with people, this latke enters the world screaming. It happens when it starts to cook in hot oil. Terrified and in pain, it leaps out of the pan and runs away, encountering a variety of Christmas associated items such as colored lights, a candy cane, and a tree.  Each item questions the latke about his screaming. The latke explains a facet of the Chanukah story and Chanukah symbolism. Then the Christmas item responds with its potential comparison from the Christmas story. Each time, the latke grows frustrated as he explains how he is not part of Christmas. "It's a totally different thing!" he declares, screaming again.

While sitting under the tree, a family approaches. The father carries an axe. Each member fawns over what they see, but it's not what the reader might expect. The father wonders why he carries an axe as the family excitedly takes home the latke.  Family members welcome the latke into their home as they understand what a latke is and how it fits into the holiday. Then, they eat it.

This story makes me laugh every time. To increase the humor so you have a taste, I found a video of a cantor reading the book. While the video quality of the book is not so great, not much is missed by not seeing the pictures as the story still works as an audio version. The cantor's vocals, complete with different voices and screaming, make for an entertaining read-aloud presentation. Take a listen here.

Cupcake by Charise Mericle Harper; Copyright 2010
I accidentally came across this book while searching the library bins for something else. I chose to read it as my daughter loves cupcakes, and how could she resist a book with a cover that features a cupcake wearing a happy face wrapper and sitting inside a sparkly glittery circle, surrounded by multi-colored polka dots.

This book follows friendly Vanilla Cupcake from his "birth" to where he joins his brothers and sisters, such as Pink Princess Cupcake, Stripy Cupcake, and Fancy Flower-Top Cupcake for a special event. At the end of the event, Vanilla Cupcake stands alone, not feeling special. He says, "Nobody picked me. I'm too creamy white and plain!"

A green candle hears the crying cupcake and commiserates. He talks about his fancy brothers and sisters including Balloon Candle, Twisty Candle, and Number Candle. Now both feel sad until Candle comes up with an idea to find a topping that will make Cupcake special.

Cupcake tries on the various toppings, but turns down the ideas for reasons such as pickles being too salty, spaghetti being too swirly, and a squirrel being too furry. Accidentally, Candle winds up sitting on Cupcake's head which makes for a perfect looking cupcake; however, this is not the end of the story. It's only a moment for Candle to think of another idea to try.

The twists include the candle who doesn't quite get it, and for me, the dark humor of a cupcake who feels  saddened that he is not chosen, which essentially means he is sad that he doesn't get devoured.
Disturbing. Of course, to my daughter, this book is quite funny and she does not recognize the disturbing elements. So, this book is definitely a Wrinkle book.

I Want My Hat Back by Jon Klassen; Copyright 2011.
A Theodore Seuss Geisel Honor book, and a recipient of the E.B. White Read Aloud Book award, I Want My Hat Book includes dark humor with an ending that Klassen leaves open to interpretation.

A bear searches for his lost hat. Along the route of his search, he asks animals if they have seen his hat. The entire story is written via dialogue, but without quotation marks. Colored text indicates speaker changes. At times, the bear talks and processes only to himself. He desperately wants his hat back, but has become so routine in his questioning that he does not even realize when he questions the animal wearing his hat who responds in a suspiciously guilty manner. After the bear confers with three more animals, processes aloud to himself, and then talks with yet another animal, he suddenly remembers that he had seen his hat. He races past the animals and confronts the one wearing his red pointy hat. After a stare-down between the bear and the thief, the large bear sits alone with the out-of-proportion red pointy hat atop his head.

What happened to the animal thief? That is up to the reader to determine. I know what I concluded, and it's morbid. But, I have learned that children do not automatically come to the same conclusion.
This book truly is a fun read-aloud. The spare, brown-toned illustrations (with the exception of the red hat, and the background when the bear finally figures things out), along with the eyes and droll facial expressions on each of the animals define Klassen's style.
I personally love this book.

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Do you have other Wrinkle books to add? I would especially love to learn of older books, but also wish to keep on top of newer ones. Let me know in the comments so I can review the books and add them to the master list. Be sure to include the author and copyright date (if you can), along with any of your own comments.

As for my own personal wrinkle, no pity please. Be sad. Be grumpy. Be calm. If you pray or send blessings to the universe, please add me to yours and send some my way. Even if all will be good, positive vibes sent into the atmosphere definitely have a de-wrinkling effect. I'll take it!

~Tamara

Humor Therapy--It's a Laugh!

The famed writer, editor, and peacemaker, Norman Cousins (1915-1990) believed that if stress could cause an illness, then having positive emotions could help one feel better. Following a diagnosis of a  painful degenerative disease, and unsatisfied with the doctor's belief of impending death, Cousins decided to help himself. He started taking massive doses of vitamin C and watching humorous films. He also watched or listened to other funny material. He believed that the result of 10 minutes of belly laughing worked better than morphine to grant him two hours of sleep without pain. His health improved and he eventually gained the ability to return to work full time and once again use all of his limbs.

I haven't had any official experience with laughter or humor therapy, but I do believe in the power of laughter.
Since being pregnant and having my daughter, I have grown increasingly sensitive to toxic people--those who do nothing but bring others down via complaints and negativity, especially with no plans to consider truly trying to find something positive about a situation or make an effort to try and fix an issue rather than only complain about it. I feel sensitive to violent, and disturbing storylines on television, in some books, and of course on the news. I no longer add new crime shows to my television watching habits. I continue to watch the ones I started prior to my daughter, but once the series ends, I'm done, too. I much prefer a good drama, and especially a good comedy. What I consider a good comedy, though, that's another post.

For now, I'm looking at books that make me laugh alone, but also especially with my daughter.

First off, yesterday, I received some news. The kind of news  that you imagine you'd be all right with, but when it happens for real, stirs up emotions such as anger, sadness, fear, and more. All of these emotions flowed through my head. I tried to clear them by playing at the park, walking with my daughter riding on my back, and visiting with some neighbors. Finally, talking with someone who has been there, this was the key--for the moment.
Then, at bedtime for my daughter, she selected two books for our read-aloud.

When Sophie Gets Angry--Really, Really Angry... by Molly Bang (Copyright 1999)
This picture book has gradually grown on me. The illustrations originally did not appeal to me, so the
story did not hold my interest. Recently, as I read this aloud, I found that the tone soothed me, and definitely calmed my daughter.

Variations in sentence length show emotion as Sophie displays her anger after her sister takes a toy she was using, even though it was time for the sister to have her turn with the toy. "Sophie kicks. She screams. She wants to smash the world to smithereens." She expresses her anger in the home, then runs out. She runs and runs and runs. Then she cries. After some moments, she becomes aware of the trees, the birds, the rocks, and the plants around her. Her anger has shrunk. Sophie climbs a tree and peers at the world around her. She feels better and is able to return home where her family welcomes her back.

The large illustrations spread across every two facing pages.The main text is printed over parts of the pictures, while some sound words depicting loud noises are incorporated into the illustrations. Shades of red appear on most pages when Sophie's anger has her in its grips. Trees of various types fill the world outside of her home.

I love trees and find them especially calming. I would have ran and ran and ran away as Sophie did, but this is not exactly an option with a child in tow. Last night this book allowed me to feel the anger and then release it.

While Sophie's story relaxed me, humor does more to provide an escape from thinking--which I think I need more often than I would like.
Two of our favorite book series recently fall into the category of transition books (or early chapter books).

The Mercy Watson Series by Kate DiCamillo, Illustrated by Chris Van Dusen
Mercy Watson, a pig who lives at 54 Deckawoo Drive, resides in the home of her humans, Mr. and

Mrs. Watson. Mercy's motivation to perform any task can be encouraged for the payment of some "toast, with a great deal of butter" on it. Readers later see that really it is the butter flavor and aroma that attracts Mercy. Often she is oblivious to the problem occurring around her, but somehow a combination of  her searching for buttery edibles and moving to different locations eventually brings her to where she needs to be to participate in the resolution of the problem.

In the six books that make up the series so far, in addition to Mercy and the Watsons, readers meet the neighbors Eugenia (who always has an opinion about the pig next door), and her sister, Baby (who has her own thoughts, but usually just listens to her sister). Baby adores Mercy. Other characters who appear in more than one book include the firemen Ned and Lorenzo, and the children Stella and Frank.

While the repetition of the setting (54 Deckawoo Drive) in each book may seem redundant, the antics of Mercy and others trigger laughs. The illustrations have a classic appearance to them that I believe gives the books a feel of having been written a much longer time ago. I love older books. They remind me of my childhood when I was a bookworm (not a real worm), searching through the stacks for a good book.

While the Mercy Watson books provide entertainment, my new favorites are the three graphic novel styled Bink and Gollie  books by Kate DiCamillo and Alison McGhee, and Illustrated by Tony Fucile.

Bink and Gollie are two young girls who are like sisters, but really are the best of friends. Gollie lives in a treehouse. She loves to make and eat pancakes. Bink lives in a small house near the base of the tree. She keeps her shelves stocked full with peanut butter. The girls communicate via what appears to be walkie talkies. (I have wanted a set since I was little. I love these!) The girls like to roller skate places. When they need to make a purchase of anything, they can count on Mr. and Mrs. Eccles and their Empire of Enchantment store. Free popcorn everyday, too.

While there is repetition of certain words, such as "gray matter" (brain), certain places, and behaviors from book to book, what's difference from the Mercy Watson books is that in Bink and Gollie the authors do not tell the

reader. Instead, they show the reader through the characters' actions, and the repeated features in the illustrations.

Speaking of illustrations, Fucile's attention to details shows his humor. My daughter and I study the cartoon-like drawings and laugh at the pieces. We laugh at the facial expressions. I love how the girls are kid-like, and not perfect. Little Bink has fly-away hair that sticks in every direction. She is short and stocky with legs that belong on a little kid. Gollie is tall and lanky with stick skinny legs that work for her. We laugh at the jars of peanut butter--the only food on Bink's shelves. We laugh at Mr. and Mrs. Eccles always sitting and reading their newspapers, and sometimes repeating each others' words.

While I find all three books quite humorous, Bink and Gollie: Two for One is the book that made me laugh so hard the first time I read it the other night, that I struggled to complete the first chapter aloud with my daughter.

The first chapter, "Whack a Duck" brings the girls to the state fair where Bink discovers the Whack a Duck game. The prize: The world's largest doughnut. Determination drives Bink to try and  win the doughnut with one of the three balls she gets for a dollar. For me, studying the facial expressions of the girls, Bink's preparation for throwing the balls, her pitch, the hits, the changes in the man's appearance as he runs the game between each pitch, and reading the comments were the funniest parts of the book. Perhaps my tiredness at the time made it even more hilarious. Whatever it was, I honestly cannot recall a book making me laugh as hard as this chapter did. And, it feels good to have a good laugh.

My daughter requested that we read the book again last night. After we read about Sophie being angry, we went to Bink and Gollie. I only planned on reading "Whack a Duck", but the book is hard to put down. I wound up reading the whole book. Okay by me. I love reading aloud. And, each readthrough allows me to notice a detail I may have missed earlier.

I don't laugh quite as much as I did the first time, but my daughter giggles. Of course, a child's belly laugh gets me laughing. So, all is good. I needed a good laugh.

Side note. I asked my daughter if she thinks she is more like Bink or Gollie. She chose Bink. I agree. So do the grandparents. Yes. I can count on future laughter for awhile with or without a book. My source of humor lives with me. Free therapy. It's a laugh!

If you would like to get to know Bink and Gollie better, check out their webpage at http://www.binkandgollie.com/ 

I'll be back on Monday as I continue the countdown of daily (I shall say, weekday) posts before the school year begins again. Next week's topics include graphic novels, diverse picture books, nonfiction picture books, and more. I shall see where my musings take me.

Have a good weekend. May you find humor each day.

~Tamara

It's All About Perspective

Before I had my daughter, I honestly cannot remember what made me laugh. Some of her insights observations, and random connections elicit giggles from me--many of which I have to try and hide. Not always easy.

When I read books that make my daughter giggle, the sound always blankets me with momentary peace. If I can laugh with her, it's even more joyful, and definitely therapeutic after a challenging day.

A recent find for us is the book:
You Are (Not) Small by Anna King and Illustrated by Christopher Weyan

In this large picture book, bear-like creatures compare themselves to each other by size and eventually argue about who is big and who is small. When new characters literally drop in, the two main characters realize that they are both big and small. Once that is settled, it's time to head out together to eat. The book concludes with the potential for a new debate between two of the drop-in visitors.

Featuring bold, yet spare illustrations, the more my daughter and I read this book, the more we laugh. The story presents much potential for discussions about perspective, and debates about size. My three and 11/12ths year old can be quite specific. (Yes, we get precise with her age. It was three and three quarters until a few days ago. It also means we won't be trying to fake her age to get a lower price. Today at a movie when I was asked if she was under three years, I said she is three. My daughter adamantly said, "I am not three. I am three and 11/12ths. She picks up things related to her age quick!)
"I'm not a kid. I'm a child!" Or "I'm not little. I'm big." Yes, she is big to the ants she stomps on outside.
She is little next to me.
It's all about perspective.
And giggles.

On a side note, Kang and Weyan are working on a sequel. I'm looking forward to it.

~Tamara

Memorable ABC Books

Life with a preschooler means a lot of singing, and a lot of opportunities to promote early literacy skills--especially with the ABC song. My daughter loves reading with me and sits for picture books and early chapter books. At almost four years old, she also loves to practice writing. She wants to write daily. I no longer tell her how to spell words when she asks, but rather work with her to sound out the parts. She knows her letters, both upper and lowercase, and their primary sounds,

Looking at Alphabet books through the eyes of a reader, a writer, and as a mom, has made me picky about alphabets. If I am going to remember a book, it needs to be unique and catch my interest. Memory of the book, though, is not necessarily equal to liking it.

There are three alphabet books that jump to mind.

ABC Israel by Rachel Raz
We received this alphabet book as a gift. I will admit that I have not been to Israel. Being Jewish, though, means that learning about Israel has been part of my life. I had hoped ABC Israel would be a good book to use to introduce my daughter to the country, at least at a basic level. I wish that it showed more about Israel--the country, the land, the people, and perhaps the history. At least, that's what I expected. Unfortunately, this book is more memorable to me for what it lacks.
First off, this book lacked consistency with the types of terms named for each letter.
U=Up, but D is not down. O=Old and N=New. Up what, old what, new what? Up is for the solar panels up on rooftops. Old is for an old aqueduct. New is for new buildings. So, here we have some adjectives. Not all terms were adjectives.
R=Recycling. C=Cats.
Yes, I'm glad that there are recycling containers in the streets. I am a dedicated recycler, but we recycle here. Is recycling the best "R" word that could have been used for a book about Israel? Regarding cats, the book notes that they stroll through the streets. I like cats, but to someone who does not, the focus in this book might not exactly make Israel, or at least Tel Aviv, attractive. Perhaps something more connected to Israeli culture such as Carmel Market (also in Tel Aviv) might work. I would think a market might be fascinating to a child. I remember learning about the barter system in the market when I was younger and finding it interesting.

A few other terms do give a little taste of Israel that connects readers to people and places in Israel, thanks to accompanying photos, such as J=Jerusalem. T=Taxi does not quite cut it. Is this book supposed to show ABC concepts, or places, or things? Through my writer lens, the terms seem a bit random for me.

Then, as I prepared for this post and looked back at the book flaps, I learned that I'm supposed to look at the images and choices in this book the way a child might if she ventured through her town and kept track of the things she noticed. I suppose the choices in ABC Israel might be all right when I view them this way. Yes, children may pick out similarities between where they live and what they see in the book, but several of the alphabet choices do not make Israel sound very special or unique. That's still what I would expect from the title.

Just one girl's opinion.

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Alligators All Around by Maurice Sendak
I acquired my tiny, approximately five inches by seven inches sized copy of this book during my early grad education, but forgot about it amid my collection of children's books. I recognized the words while hearing Carole King (yes, the Carole King) sing the song on a mixed CD that my daughter received. This triggered a memory. After a search, I found the book and have since shared it several times with my daughter. She loves Sendak's funny pictures of the alligators. I came to appreciate what I initially saw as silliness, as depictions of typical life with a child.

There are normal activities such as D=Doing Dishes, and C=Catching Colds. Then there are silly ones such as E=Entertaining Elephants, R=Riding Reindeer. Of course, there is reality in Q=Quite Quarrelsome and T=Throwing Tantrums. The only letter that I see as being an issue today is I=Imitating Indians. The illustration shows the alligators wearing feathered headdresses, holding a tomahawk and smoking a pipe. One thing to remember, though, is that Alligators All Around was originally published in 1962. Times and views on cultures were different. While definitely not politically correct today, this page certainly can be used to kick off a discussion about Native American cultures and stereotypes.

Despite the one page, I enjoy the book.  My daughter loves when I sing it to her rather than straight read it. The power of the words put to music definitely makes it memorable, and in my case, memorized.

I recently also discovered the cartoon version of Alligators All Around with Carole King singing. It appears familiar, so I am guessing that I saw it as child somewhere. Sesame Street, peerhaps? A television special? Wherever the familiarity stems from, it definitely awakened a feeling of nostalgia. Enjoy. Alligators All Around animation serenaded by Carole King

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Jambo Means Hello: A  Swahili Alphabet Book by Muriel and Tom Feelings
I discovered this book on a reading list for a recent grad school class. In this book when the reader learns the words for each letter, the reader also receives a lesson about rural African culture.

• A=Arusi means "wedding." The reader learns about the celebration held in a village complete with drumming, dancing, and food for everyone.
• M=Mama means "mother." The reader learns about the mother's role of teaching her children to care for the younger children, and the daughter to keep a home, cook, grind corn, and make crafts.
• H=Heshima means "respect." The reader learns that children learn this at a young age and are taught to show respect for those older than themselves. The reader learns also about the custom in many communities for even grownups to kneel when meeting someone older.

Not only is the vocabulary learning rich, the illustrations, which were created by a complex process described at the end of the book, are beautiful. Images in shades and gradations of brown, gray, and white show African people working, creating, celebrating, and greeting one another. Readers also learn about dress, play, music, and nature elements of Africa.

What surprised me about this book is that it was published in 1974. The surprise came partially because I had never heard of the book or seen it before. It even was a Caldecott Honor book.
Jambo Mean Hello: A Swahili Alphabet Book is one of my new favorites!

The alphabet enriches us no matter how basic it may seem.
What is your favorite alphabet book?

Now I know my ABCs, next time won't you read with me...

Today and tomorrow,
~Tamara

A Chair for Me?

I don't have a chair. Okay, this is not entirely true. I do have chairs. I just don't have one that feels like my own.

One of my current favorite children's picture books is A Chair for My Mother by Vera Williams.

In this story, Rosa, the narrator, tells, via first person, about the large jar that she, her mother, and her grandmother contribute money to in order to one day purchase a chair. Not just any chair, but rather a "beautiful, fat soft armchair...one covered in velvet with roses all over it...the best chair in the whole world." This chair will be a way for Mama to take a load off her feet and Grandma to sit back and hum comfortably. After a fire had destroyed their previous home, family and friends provided the three, and their cat, living space, a small bed, a table with three kitchen chairs, a rug, curtains, pots, pans, silverware and dishes, and a stuffed bear for Rosa. This was sufficient for living while Mama worked as a waitress at a diner, and Rosa sometimes helped out. Eventually, when the jar fills, the family is then able to fulfill its goal and find the chair that Rosa had imagined.

Looking back at my first sentence above, here is the deal. Much of my furniture has been inherited. The striped and floral sofa was my grandmother's. It's not exactly my style, but it's comfortable. The blue chairs that do not recline came from my parents when they purchased "stress free" chairs. The rocking chairs (I have two) were used. One came from a cousin. The other I found in someone's yard. A free giveaway. My plan has been to recover the cushions so that I can achieve some semblance of connection between pieces of furniture. My dining table was actually a table given to me by a retired teacher to use in my classroom when I taught elementary. I took off the table's legs so children could sit on the floor and use the table top as a surface for drawing or doing jigsaw puzzles. The table stands now with four card table chairs.

While my bedroom furniture is my own, along with the piece in the living room that holds the television and video player, the only chair that is truly my own is a video rocker or J-chair that sits on the floor and rocks. I bought this for my dorm room back in college--last century (if I wish to be technical with time).
I am thankful that I have furniture. I know it has not been priority to find new pieces as long as I have some, but the mismatching bothers me. The hodgepodge in my home.
I really do want a real dining room table one day.
I really do want a sofa and reclining chairs that match.
I think.

There are two aspects that I love about A Chair for My Mother and the subsequent stories: Something Special for Me; Music, Music, for Everyone; and A Chair for Always. One is that little seems to be needed to create joy and contentment among the characters. Meaning that it literally does not take much to make someone happy. Why is this so difficult to achieve nowadays? Perhaps it's not, but it has been a struggle for me.

The other aspect that stands out for me is the importance and value of family. I often think about family and who is my family--not only for my sake, but also for my daughter's sake. Rosa is an only child. Her mother is a single parent. I do not recall once feeling a lack of a sense of belonging for Rosa and her family.

These are what I want more than new matching furniture--true belief that my daughter and I don't need lots of stuff to achieve joy and contentment, and, a strong sense of belonging when we're among family and people who we believe are friends.

To belonging, a sense of peace, and to having a safe and comfortable place of our own to sit, relax, and be.

~Tamara

I Forgot How to Read--Or So I Had Thought

In one week I begin fall semester classes toward my media specialist license.
In two weeks I return to a new year of full time teaching.
Today's post is the first of the two week countdown. 
I hope to establish some sort of routine, and a greater focus for this blog.
For the two weeks, I shall see where things go.
To many musings!

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I forgot how to read.
Or, so I had thought until I took an Intro to Children's Literature class in graduate school while I pursued my elementary education teaching degree.

Looking back, I remember the day in kindergarten when Mrs. Brewer entered the class, conversed with my teacher and then announced the names of the children who would join her in her classroom to learn to read.
"Choose me! Choose me!" I pleaded silently again and again until my name, Tammi, at the time, was spoken.
That was when my memory of my love of reading and learning truly began. (Although I have never forgotten when Mr. Dooley, the principal that year, took children to the courtyard during kindergarten open house night, showed us the duck eggs, and nest, and then read Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak.)

By second grade I was teaching my preschool-aged sister to read. I used the flashcards (which I still have) and the folded storybooks of Tad, Jill, and Lad (which I also still have). I knew I wanted to become a teacher some day. Besides my own reading, my classroom teacher, Miss J., who I felt blessed to have for first, second and third grade, knew how to read to children. (I'll say more about this in a future post.) She introduced me to the books of Bill Peet, the poetry and silliness of Shel Silverstein and Dennis Lee, and the books of Judy Blume--particularly Freckle Juice and the class favorite, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing.

These led me to read more and more. I discovered Carolyn Haywood's Betsy books (which I recently discovered remain in print), more Judy Blume--my all time favorite book became Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself  and after 21 reads, it became my mission to memorize the book (which I never accomplished, but I made a good start). 
I later discovered the spookiness and magic of Lois Duncan, the sweetness of the Sweet Valley High series, and many more wonderful books.

Somehow, as reading literature became more a part of English classes, this triggered an anxiety for me that carried into college.

• Do I have enough time to get through the reading? 
• What parts should I focus upon?  
• What if I focus on the wrong parts and can't remember the right things for the test? 

I think the last question was my greatest fear. As a result, I seemed to lose the ability to read for enjoyment. I struggled to complete any book without seeking help from "Mr. Cliff". (I was able to read some book, but many I could not.) Today I still say that despite earning a bachelor's degree in creative writing and literature, I graduated literary illiterate. I felt there was no way I could ever consider teaching an English class. I know that I do know more now, and have stronger reading skills, but concentrating to get through an "adult" book, continues to be a challenge.

Forward to grad school and Intro to Children's Literature. Reading assignments included picture books and middle grade books. No tests. Only discussions and written reflections. Suddenly, I had the ability to complete the reading of a book again. Suddenly, my love for reading had returned.

Don't ask me what the last adult book was that I completed in whole.
I do have no problem telling you the last children's book I completed.
As of today:

• Picture book--Flora and the Flamingo by Molly Idle (Unfortunately the library copy had some missing flaps to show "before" images. Despite this, upon first "read" (as this is a wordless picture book), the pink (and my daughter loves pink) illustrations of a girl and a flamingo developing a connection and dancing together is lovely and sweet. I am working on figuring out how best to "read" wordless books aloud when I share a book with my daughter. I  encourage her to tell me a story to accompany the pictures. No luck yet. If we talk about pictures together and I ask guiding questions, we can tell the stories together. It just feels like something is missing, as compared to when I can read a story aloud. I am open to suggestions for enriching the experience of sharing wordless picture books.)
• Transition book--Bink & Gollie by Kate DiCamillo and Alison McGhee (I just read this to my daughter tonight.She and I both agree she is like Bink. I loved this first book and was able to easily suspend disbelief in regards to the two children appearing to live on their own without adult supervision. I think the first compromise made by the two girls, related to socks and pancakes, is my favorite part.)
• Middle Grade book--Nest by Esther Ehrlich (I hope to write a longer review later. In a nutshell I can say, despite this book seeming long at times, the visual language, real characters (characters who questioned their own feelings, and struggled both internally and externally), love of family even when challenges seemed unbearable, connection to nature and birds, and the simpler life connected to games such as watching "water worms" race down the window during a rainfall made me nostalgic for the happier and simpler times of my own youth. Chirp, the main character, possessed a kindness and sensitivity toward a friend who desperately needed caring.)
• Young Adult--The Living by Matt de la Peña (I had trouble putting down this plot-driven disturbing and frightening story. The story included the catastrophe of ”the big one” (earthquake) hitting the west coast of the U.S., a pandemic, corporate corruption, a tsunami, a job on a cruise ship, and a protagonist who would be content with life had it remained adventure-free in his southern California town near the Mexican border. I think what disturbed me is that the plot did not seem totally implausible (although I don't know if the natural events, scientifically, could happen as they did). What I appreciated, when comparing this book to other stories I have read is that I didn't find myself saying things such as, “Come on! Give me a break!” as one horrible event happened after another. In some stories such ongoing occurrences of catastrophes seem overdone and unlikely. De la Peña managed to tie everything together in a way that seemed possible. I feel this book could be easily “sold” to teens in high school and possibly upper middle school who enjoy suspenseful realistic fiction involving danger, a mystery, and a relatable teenage main character who values family, likes girls, comes from a low income home and community, and is a survivor. On a side note, I just picked up the sequel, The Hunted at the library yesterday.)

There is no shame in reading a children's book as an adult.
As an adult in public.
Really.
This is just one girl's opinion.
~Tamara

About My Blog Title

Hobbling to the elevator in 2011

When I was pregnant with my daughter in 2011, I traveled to California to visit my sister and her family. During my visit I fractured my right foot. I wound up wearing a boot, and had to use a cane to ease the weight on my foot as I walked. Then, shortly after, I received a diagnosis of gestational diabetes. This devastated me as good nutrition was and is highly important to me. What had I done wrong? It didn't matter that my age likely played a role, as well as a small familial history of diabetes. I felt like a failure. I could do little exercise, and my determination to remain positive for the sake of my unborn daughter was shaken.

Then, I started grad school via a low residency program at Hamline University in pursuit of a Master of Fine Arts degree in Writing for Children and Young Adults (MFAC). Twenty nine weeks pregnant with a boot, a belly, and a cane. My mother traded cars with me as my belly and boot caused me not to fit well in the driver's seat of my own car. I now drove a mini van. At Hamline, it was a hot summer. Construction on campus caused the most direct route to buildings to be roundabout. My apartment, with the greatest roommate--thank goodness--happened to be the furthest from the elevator on the third floor.

2015 Hamline MFAC Grad

I learned to laugh at the situation, even when I wanted to cry. I had to laugh. I was on the path toward two of my greatest dreams--becoming a mom, and learning the craft of writing so that someday I will be a published author. Finding light when times felt cloudy was how I could continue moving forward.

*     *     *

I attended Hamline only during the summers, followed by fall semesters. On July 19, 2015, I officially graduated with my MFA degree. Now, I am taking the steps to begin my agent search and publication submissions. In order to establish an online presence, I have returned to this blog I began in 2011.

A Boot, a Belly, and a Cane. A bizarre combination. A memorable combination. A name that continues to make me smile. So, I have chosen to keep it.

Happy reading! (More About Me - Current Page)

Today and tomorrow, 

~Tamara (pronounced like "tomorrow" with a southern accent.)