November 25, 2007
Self-Control for You AND Your Child!
A variation on Time Out, Self-Quieting emphasizes thoughtfulness. It focuses on thinking a problem through in an environment that is serene, personalized, and free of stress and conflict.
by Mary Weldon, Certified Parent Educator and Instructor in Redirecting Children's Behavior
Until children develop self-control, they really cannot be given responsibility, which leaves parents and other adults constantly picking up after them, and worse.
Here's a natural and simple approach to developing self-control simultaneously in both child and supervising adult. It starts with the premise that the child can control himself or herself if given the opportunity. But it works only if the responsible adult models the same behavior.
The approach is called "Self-Quieting." It results in a peaceful state of mind in which emotions can be worked through and solutions to the problem found. The child learns that controlling others does not resolve conflict, but that he can achieve success by looking within. And best of all, you get to set an example that you will be delighted to have him imitate and learn from.
To begin, you and your child should both set up places where each of you can go separately when you need to regroup. The area should be pleasant and comforting. For the child, perhaps a spot in his own room, a rocking or beanbag chair, in the kitchen where it's warm, or even outside, where he can quiet down and work things out for himself, which might be by doing something (hammering nails into a stump, kicking a ball, going for a run), or just by sitting down and doing nothing.
For you, the quieting space could be a window with a view, your needlepoint, an airy room with quiet music -- any uncluttered, peaceful place for you alone. Each of you should plan and then create this place for yourself.
The next step is modeling behavior for the child. The first few times you may have to go with him; if he's old enough you may be able to put up a sign with three questions as a reminder:
What's the problem?
What's my part in the problem?
What is one thing I can do to improve the situation?
Here's what you do. Get down on your child's level, look into his eyes, and say calmly and lovingly (this part is critical; take a breath and do it right!), "It looks like you need a break. Go to your self-quieting place. Come back when you're calm and ready to move on or to resolve the problem."
Say this only once, which shows your respect for him -- and for yourself as well. If he doesn't leave, pick him up or lead him, always gently and lovingly.
If he comes back acting appropriately, let him stay; if not, return him to his space without a word. You may have to do this several times. Be patient. Be persistent. Don't say, "Come back in five minutes." That would be telling the child what to do, not letting him understand it for himself, which won't work and can backfire ("When can I come out? Is five minutes up yet?").
Some families will want to use a special word or signal to give notice that self-quieting is in order. But the child's space must be a happy place where he can collect his thoughts and regain composure and from which he can return cheerfully and peacefully -- not as a wrongdoer who's finally shaped up.
The Essential Difference
How is this approach different from Time Out? The idea is the same, but the focal point is quiet thoughtfulness in a comforting environment, along with an activity that the child chooses for its association with pleasure. It emphasizes the change in attitude, not the ticking clock.
Try this approach for a week, and you'll see how handling conflict positively can change the atmosphere in your home.
And for You…
But where does your own self-quieting place come in? If you're working with a child whose goal is power or revenge, who simply refuses to go to his own self-quieting place, you go to your own. Don't give him the power struggle he expects, just tell him you'll be back when you are ready.
Although at first this method may seem time-consuming, remember this principle: take time to teach now, and you won't have to teach the same thing again later. This is a wise investment of your time and energy, as well as a good exercise in self-control and stress management for you. The payoff in terms of self-respect, family harmony, and new problem-solving skills is tremendous. You are teaching conflict resolution skills to last a lifetime.
Make it your goal to bring peace to the conflict. Do this from a position of strength and purpose, not anger. Remember, peace begins within the home.
--
Questions for you:
1. How is this approach different from the Time Out that you use?
2. If you've tried this approach, how long did it take you to master it? How were the results different?
Posted by Mary at 10:57 PM | Comments (0)
Time Out IS Stress Management!
Time Out as a means of changing children's behavior should never be used to punish, as in "Go to your room!" -- that's not what it's meant to do and won't work anyway. Used as punishment, Time Out is a power trip for adults that humiliates children and leaves adults thinking, "What am I doing wrong?" as the same misbehavior recurs and recurs.
Time Out is of course modeled on sports, where it provides a breathing spell, a break. When a coach calls, "Time out!" he's saying, "We need a moment to think this through."
Time out should create that same kind of breathing space for children, not to mention adults so frustrated by the child's actions that they can't think what else to do.…
Time Out as a means of changing children's behavior should never be used to punish, as in "Go to your room!" -- that's not what it's meant to do and won't work anyway. Used as punishment, Time Out is a power trip for adults that humiliates children and leaves adults thinking, "What am I doing wrong?" as the same misbehavior recurs and recurs.
Time Out is of course modeled on sports, where it provides a breathing spell, a break. When a coach calls, "Time out!" he's saying, "We need a moment to think this through."
Time out should create that same kind of breathing space for children, not to mention adults so frustrated by the child's actions that they can't think what else to do. Time out should be seen as a way to give both parties a chance to re-group. It works because it removes the child (and the adult) from the confusions of the moment, thus providing time to see a bad situation in a better light.
In other words Time Out is just another a way to redirect a child who's misbehaved, and a better way at that, as it gives the child time to think lovely thoughts without adult help. It also releases the adult from the obligation to create a distraction: when a child's thoughts get to redirect themselves, you get a breather and the child gets to find a solution independent of the one you might expect.
What a relief!
And Then…
Actually -- fortunately -- it's not quite that simple: while the first part of Time Out is removal from the situation, the second part is helping everyone to understand what went wrong and how it might go better. Like a football team, you and the child have to find a solution by communicating with each other.
Here's where you, the adult, learn a new discipline that exemplifies the discipline you want your child to learn. While your son or daughter is away from the situation, get yourself away from it, too. If you were so wound up that you couldn't find a better way to redirect things, then you need a breather. If you can, go somewhere else to relax, ratchet your thoughts back down to normal or shut them down altogether, and toss out the old tapes. You are listening for a new solution.
Some experts recommend that you pick up your sewing or dishwashing or rocking in your favorite chair, any non-intellectual pursuit that lets your mind work on a problem independent of your efforts, rather like sleeping on it. Such a retreat is always an option; there is no specific time when you must return to the matter to discuss it with your errant child -- sometimes it's better the next day, depending on the child and the problem. But at the appropriate moment you must. Don't succumb to the temptation to set a specific limit to the Time Out -- "Go to your room for ten minutes!" Instead, say "When you think you're ready to come out, call me." That way the child controls the decision to come out rather than being locked into an arbitrary timeframe. Allow him this; it primes him (or her) for thought.
Now comes the best part, because instead of lecturing your charge on how to do better, you get to ask him or her for a solution. "What do you think went wrong here?" tells the child that it's not only his responsibility, but his right, to do better. It says that being right is not the necessary prerogative of adulthood.
If the child counters with, "I don't know," be sure not to tell him.
Instead, say amiably, "Let's think it through together." Go over what he or she thought happened, and then, if it was different from what you thought happened, throw your view into the mix. Talk to each other, it needn't take long. Don't allow yourself any knee-jerk conclusions, and don't let your child off too easily either. If you're not both satisfied with the solution, it probably isn't a good one: you want to teach your child to think the situation through rather than let emotions take over. You want to show your child how it's done.
The Moral
How much saner this approach is than one that says "I know what's best for you,-- so don't bother to think for yourself!" Don't we want children to think for themselves? If their solutions surprise us, isn't that terrific?
Time out is an approach we should all use when we get into a jam. It's not, "Don't stand there, do something!" Instead, it's "Don't do something, stand there!" A solution will present itself if you let it.
Why do we all, both children and adults, think it better to cling tooth and nail to a position we've arrived at rather than see what solutions others might offer? I think we adults feel that we haven't the time; children think, from our example, that this is how it has to go.
But the time is better spent here than in repeating failure. Not only children ("out of the mouths of babes…") but maybe the janitor or your secretary or the elevator operator has observed a problem that's finally landed on your desk at work. Maybe he (or she) has a suggestion that you can flesh out together.
Give the other person's thought equal weight with your own, regardless of age or station, and take a load off! Stepping back to listen to others, to think before acting, allows new ideas to flow and shares the responsibility for finding solutions. Remember also to give credit, whether to your child, your janitor, and anyone who contributed to the solution. "Good work! We figured it out," reinforces the lesson and encourages future successes.
What a better way to live!
--
Questions for you:
1. How well does Time Out work for you?
2. Do you find that there's much variation in results as children get older?
3. Do you think adults need a separate space for their own Time Out? How long does it take you to unwind?
4. Can one come back to the situation two days later, or is there something critical about addressing it in full at the end of the Time Out period?
5. What other strategies have you found for preventing clashes/power struggles with children?
---
Posted by Mary at 10:18 PM | Comments (0)
The Freedom of Wheels! Trike to Bike Part 2
Every child handles independence differently, but every child reaches for it by testing both himself and those around him. It’s a process. In contrast, adults see independence as a product, the result of responsibility. In other words, a responsible child earns independence by honoring stated bounds.
A fundamental piece of establishing independence is learning how to make good decisions. In order to guide this process, you need to note at each step what your child – each child, because for each it will be different – considers a worthwhile challenge. Then you must calculate the life expectancy of that challenge,– how long it’s good for. The life expectancy of each challenge is the timeframe allowed before you must again intervene. With bike riding, for instance, make yourself a list of the places your child may want to go alone or with friends, adding those that would be helpful to you, too, so you can chauffeur less: school, playdates, errands for the family. As a family, discuss these trips along with those that the child might add. Confer regularly at first and then periodically as the project develops.
Note that independence – a firmly established sense of responsibility – arrives in stages. As with shoe-tying, the obvious value to parents in a child’s acquiring any skill is that he’ll need less supervision, allowing you more time for your own pursuits – work, shopping, and time with younger siblings. But don’t, like my mother, leave all choices to a child without adult input (see Part 1).
A healthy five- or six-year old will not rush to break rules. If you tell him, ”No crossing streets until you can show me you’re ready!” he will probably tell you when he’s ready. Meanwhile he’ll be learning to handle his bike and enjoying his new mastery of old territory. But stick around, it won’t be long. Monitor progress throughout the process, and spend time nearby. Later, be aware of the amount of time your child is off riding alone. Most of all, clearly state each and every rule as the situation arises, and note its observation: the way your child responds to your first rule will tell you his likely response to others.
In The End…
All in all, it's work launching a child in any complex activity. You must let go when the child gets it, but not before. (If he’s the space shuttle, you’re the booster providing liftoff.) He may need days and several tries to give up those training wheels – to stop wanting to tell you how to help and actually take off on his own.
While for you it's all about guidance, support and slowly letting go, for your son or daughter, a bike is about the courage that leads to confidence. It's learning to trust her bike in the way that she once trusted only you. It's the freedom of wheels that will take her faster than she can run, faster than either Mom or Dad can run, and even faster than that barking dog can run, if she only has the courage to keep pedaling.
A critical note: be careful to match the size of the new bike to your child's height. I still recall Mindy, the child in my neighborhood whose parents bought her a big beautiful blue bike to learn on, and how, in those days before helmets, she fell headfirst from her big beautiful bike, and was hospitalized, and died. Get a good helmet, not a cheap one; if your child is anything like I was as a kid, you won't know everywhere she rides or what tricks she’ll want to try. If you thought your toddler fell regularly when learning to walk, it's a bigger, harder fall from a bike, and no less frequent at first.
Finally, the message that mastering a two-wheeler delivers is this: just look straight ahead and keep pedaling. You’ll get where you need to go.
What a great lesson for a child to learn.
Questions for You:
Do you have bike-riding children of your own, or for whom you, as a nanny, provide care? If so, where do they ride and what rules are given to them about riding?
Did you have a bike and did your experience vary much from mine at that age?
How do you think bike-riding children should be restricted as to where they go?
How should parents reconcile their concerns for their children's safety – in re the presence of drug dealers, kidnappers, child molesters and thieves – with their desire to encourage independence?
Let me know – I'll respond!
Posted by at 04:44 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 24, 2007
How NOT to Fight with Your Teen
Almost daily, Cassie, who is twelve going on 40, challenges me in so many ways. Sometimes the challenge is intellectual, spurring debate on issues or ideas, which we both love. Sometimes, however, the challenge is aimed directly at her parents' authority, or at mine. And occasionally she does things that seem to have no purpose but to wound. …Working with such adolescents -- probably with any adolescent -- is a real challenge: they are still children, who need us to guide them, to set limits and ensure their safety. A nanny may become more their friend or confidante, but they also need to know that she remains a partner to their parents.
by Becky Kavanagh
Becky has been a live-in nanny for nearly 18 years with the same family -- from the infancy of two through college of the oldest, and through parents' divorce, dual custody, and the re-marriage of one. Becky was the International Nanny Association's Nanny of the Year 2006 and received Parents Magazine's first award to a nanny for her dedication and creative work with children. The truths of Becky's original article still hold, and she has just updated it with a P.S.
Lately I've found myself thinking about the style of caregivers and parents as children turn into -- O no! -- adolescents. Our household, with a seventh-, a third- and a first-grader, engages me daily in this issue. I've contributed articles here about the gifted chid, about imagination, independent play and preparedness, but I don't know how well I've portrayed the progress of children as they move throughout the elementary grades into junior high school and the potential in this progress for the nanny.
Almost daily, Cassie, who is twelve going on 40, challenges me in so many ways. Sometimes the challenge is intellectual, spurring debate on issues or ideas, which we both love. Sometimes, however, the challenge is aimed directly at her parents' authority, or at mine. And occasionally she does things that seem to have no purpose but to wound. These attacks can pointed at someone in particular or everyone in the vicinity or just thrown out for any approaching victim. Yet Cassie also makes us laugh with her incisive wit, she is extraordinarily generous to others and has demonstrated outstanding child care abilities, ensuring our strong recommendations to neighborhood parents seeking a qualified "sitter."
Working with such adolescents -- probably with any adolescent -- is a real challenge: they are still children, who need us to guide them, to set limits and ensure their safety. A nanny may become more their friend or confidante, but they also need to know that she remains a partner to their parents.
Listen
Older children can seem rude, foolish or sassy when their words are judged rather than their ideas. I remember being a cocky teen and occasionally rather nasty, so that arguments with my mother started before either of us knew what was happening. Now that I'm the adult I catch myself reacting reflexively to what I hear coming from that lovely twelve-year-old: often her sarcasm and flippancy obscure her ideas. So I'm learning to step back and listen. I've found that perceiving and addressing her issues can be more important than correcting her demeanor. Sometimes just listening can resolve the need for confrontation: if a subject can be addressed openly, why attack? We can address the attitude at another time, keeping it separate from her ideas.
Mutual Respect
For girls in particular adolescence means sensitive feelings, so that ground rules are vital. Cassie's parents and I don't tolerate negative remarks, name-calling or harsh treatment of others. We work to set clear, reasonable and consistent boundaries. Most important, we know where our flexibility ends, so that, if a crisis looms, we can take a time-out for ourselves to separate the facts from the hot emotions and bruised feelings; ultimately my response to the situation needs to demonstrate clearly that I respect, support and care about these older children in my life, and I need to catch my breath in order to do that. Yes, modeling behavior for children continues as they mature. In fact, that's sometimes all you have left.
Praise the Positive
Tell them often how wonderful they are, because it's true. People have asked me how I can love working with children on a daily basis year after year -- but it's easy because children are the most fascinating people you will ever meet. I find even their nuclear meltdowns intriguing. Watching the progress of their interests and passions gives us plenty of opportunities to compliment. Take advantage of these moments: applaud achievements each day! I had a hard time one day recently finding something positive to tell nine-year-old Alec -- all I could come up with was thanking him for not slamming the car door. That one compliment, which I had to dig for, made all the difference in his attitude for the rest of the day: the adult's being able to look beyond the child's weakness allows him to do the same.
Challenge Yourself
The day may be gone when we spend the afternoons playing "kitchen band," blowing bubbles or playing hide-and-seek, but we can still find new activities to challenge us -- all of us. Reach beyond old boundaries, let children take more of the lead: sometimes they
don't need you to do anything, but just to be available.
---
Post Script
I can hardly believe it’s been almost nine years since I wrote this article. In reading it again I was amazed and delighted to find that my observations about working with the older child have changed very little. However, I did think an update was in order.
Cassie is now a senior in college majoring in biochemistry with a minor in Latin American studies, and freaking out about getting into medical school next year. (I’ll interject here – she has absolutely nothing to worry about.) We keep in touch through email and by phone, and we take time to have our own special day when she’s home for vacation. It has been my privilege to watch her mature into a delightful young woman who has a great sense of humor and a balanced approach to life. Cassie was my first teacher in caring for the adolescent, the teenager. How thankful I am that her gentle soul led me through those years.
Alec is a High School Senior this year and almost 18 -- I started with the family when he was 6 weeks old. He loves the challenge of school and is looking forward to starting his college adventure next year. We still enjoy lively debates, and his favorite time is when we are heading home from his private cello lesson listening to our favorite tunes. Alec still introduces me as his nanny and has no problem giving me a hug in front of his friends. He is one confident guy! With few exceptions this teenage boy has been a pleasure to guide and care for.
Marissa is 15 and a high school sophomore. She’s decided to grab high school by the throat and show it who's boss. Her artistic nature has continued to flourish and her creativity amazes me. She is now the one who pushes my buttons, the one I need to take a deep breath before I respond to, the child who is riding the emotional rollercoaster of a teenage girl and I’m hanging on with all my might. It is also the two of us who will laugh until we are dizzy over the silliest of things, sing and dance all over the house, and watch our favorite movies with a batch of popcorn. Marissa too, has no hesitation in telling her friends about me so that when I meet them they know that I’m her crazy nanny.
One final story: all three kids have gone to the same summer camp since they were very young and the two oldest are now on the staff. Last summer, at the final campfire program, Cassie was introducing the family to one of her co-workers while Marissa was leaning against me and behind me Alec had his chin resting on my head. She got to the “and-this-is-Becky” part when her friend said, “Oh, you are the person who raised Cassie!” I was taken aback a little because I had not thought of my time with this family in those terms. The children’s dad was standing next to me and immediately responded, “She sure is!” I don’t think it can get any better than that.
--
Are there insights you can share about your experience with adolescent charges? We'd love to read them. Post them below. -- Mary Clurman, Editor
Posted by Mary at 12:30 PM | Comments (0)
November 10, 2007
Turkey Time Kid Books
When my grandchildren – my grands – come to visit I take an advance trip to the library to stock up on reading adventures for them and for myself (I need to enjoy the books as much as they do). To start with, each book has to meet my criteria, so I search as many shelves as needed to yield a good bunch. This time, with my grands at ages is 4+ (Tony) and nearly 7 (Abby), I looked for picture books about…
When my grandchildren – my grands – come to visit I take an advance trip to the library to stock up on reading adventures for them and for myself (I need to enjoy the books as much as they do). To start with, each book has to meet my criteria, so I search as many shelves as needed to yield a good bunch. This time, with my grands at ages is 4+ (Tony) and nearly 7 (Abby), I looked for picture books about
Animals (my son’s family lives in a suburb of a big East Coast city – no nearby cows and no pets yet in the home), especially dogs (I have two).
The West (Tony loves cowboys and I live in the desert).
Thanksgiving (it was that time of year).
Familiar stories told in a different way.
Or something that's just fun.
The books had, in addition, to meet my artistic criteria:
Immediately attractive – lots of color but not to excess.
Well-illustrated (evocative, with nothing superfluous).
Easy to read, so Abby could read to Tony, or easy to listen to, so I could read to both children together.
Finally, the common element of the armful I walked out with was that each book should contribute to helping the grands love and understand me (and why I love them so, even though we don't see each other often enough) and the way I live, which is so different from their lives.
The Books
Animals
Once I Ate a Pie, by Patricia MacLachlan and Emily MacLachlan Charest, illustrated by Katy Schneider. 9”x12”. (All measurements are approximate, all books are in hardcover unless noted otherwise.)
I’d seen this book previously but hadn’t managed yet to buy it. Magnificently illustrated in paintings with bold brushstrokes and pungent color, it gives each of 14+ dogs its own double-page spread — lots of color surrounded by lots of white space. Each dog is named (Sugar, Wupsi, Needle Nose, Mr. Beefy…), each narrates its own tale, whether to explain a breed and its type or to explain its (mischievous or lazy or shy) personality.
Sample text (German shepherd):
Gus
I want my people in a group. Like sheep.When someone is in the bathroom, I open the door.
“Are you all right?” [text set in a wavy line]
They are NOT happy.
I take them back to the others.
When they go anywhere,
I am watching.
I am the herder.
Swine Divine, by Jan Carr, illustrated by Robert Bender. Holiday House, 1999, Joanna Cotler Books/Harper Collins. 9”x12” Filled with slangy synonyms that, taken one way are funny but to a pig who took them literally, mighty threatening.
The story: Rosie loves her piggy life, eating, rolling in mud and sleeping, and her owner is proud of her. One day he wakes her up with a bath, saying he’s taking her to Mr. Porkpie because he knows she’ll “ham it up.” Rosie thinks she’s to be eaten. The story takes her through ordeals that reinforce her fear. Finally Mr. Porkpie dresses her in bonnet and tutu and flashes bright lights in her eyes. Rosie runs out and back to the farm, rebukes her owner (“Oink! Oink!”) who concedes that she looks better au naturel, and Rosie returns to happy napping in her sty.
Mustang Canyon, by Jonathan London, illustrated by Daniel San Souci, Candlewick Press 2002. 10” x 9”
An essentially storyless book with striking paintings in double-page spreads without margins, simply designed, to tell young children how wild horses live. Good new vocabulary and a glossary defining terms (sorrel, bay, roan, pinto, stallion,…)
Roadrunner’s Dance, by Rudolfo Anaya, illustrated by David Diaz (Caldecortt Award winner for “Smoky Night”). Hyperion Books for Children, 2000. 11” x 9”
This tells a persuasive Native American legend, nicely bridging the culture gap without sacrificing tradition and flavor. Text appears in large type on a delicately patterned bright yellow background that is still easy on the eyes, with fanciful full-page, airbrushed, facing-page illustrations. Snake has been frightening the villagers, who ask Desert Woman to do something about it. She gives him a rattle to warn people when they come too near, but that doesn’t relieve the threat. So she creates Roadrunner, who learns to dance around Rattlesnake, pecking him to show him that he is not king of the road. Endnotes give more facts about these nifty birds.
Treasury for Children, by James Herriott, illustrated by Ruth Brown and Peter Barrett. St. Martin’s Press, 1992. 8” x 11,” About 100 pages.
This anthology of eight stories by the Scottish veterinarian and author of several classics including All Creatures Great and Small gives us eight true tales of pets and their people on farms in rural Scotland – kittens, a cat, an old cow, dogs, a horse, a lamb. It has large type on white pages and both large and small paintings of farm activities and creatures as well as warm portraits of farmer families. Herriott tells his stories gently and thoughtfully, and only the last, the one about the lamb, sounds as if it might have been made up, although around a real incident. Interesting accents provided in Scots vocabulary.
Just Mutts, A Tribute to the Rogues of Dogdom, text by Steve Smith and Gene Hill, individual photo credits. Willow Creek Press, 1996. 10” x 8,” 128 pages, including a few 2-3 page essays
This photo book captures what we love most in dogs: their adaptability, insouciance, courage, loyalty, and individuality. Smith and Hill write like grownup kids. Here’s a sample:
Muttness is self-training. Because they weren’t bred for specific purposes, such as pointing, trailing, or retrieving, mutts are free to pursue personal forms of self-expression. (Photos: dogs ascending and ascending step ladders just to see what’s at the top.)
I don’t know yet quite how the grands and I will use this book, as the text is adult and in small type. But the 100+ photos will ignite questions, and the text might prove worth reading aloud — it is as warm and enlightening as the photos.
The West
Storm on the Desert, by Carolyn Lesser, illustrated by Ted Rand. Harcourt, Brace, 1997. 10” x 10”
Less a story than a description of the desert lives of animals, the text tells lots, always beautifully, functioning in counterpoint to terrific watercolors of animals racing across the page to escape lightning and the torrent of a desert storm. Maybe it’s a book to read many times, on rainy desert days, once the children have already turned the pages again and again. Incredible artwork.
Little Red Cowboy Hat, by Susan Lowell, illustrated by Randy Cecil, Henry Holt and Company, 1997. 9“ x 11”
Lowell retells “Little Red Riding Hood” in terms that make sense to me: Little Red wears a cowboy hat, because a long red cape would frighten a horse. Grandma, certainly not locked in the closet or tied up under the bed, is outside chopping wood, and it’s she who chases the wolf away, saving Little Red. Big, bright, desert-colored full-page or double-spread cartoon-like illustrations that tell the vividly. Typography is unfortunately dated — bold condensed fonts with big serifsy to suggest the Old West but less legible than desired. As for political correctness, the Wolf remains unfairly maligned.
Way Out West with a Baby, by Mike Brownlow, writer and illustrator. Ragged Bears Publishing, 2000. 9” x 11”
Three rough ‘n’ tough cowhands sitting by their campfire hear a wailing in the night that proves to be a baby, apparently fallen from a passing wagon train. Gruff though they are they rescue it, bathe and feed it, get throwup on their shirts, and ride through a horrendous desert thunderstorm to return it to its momma. Told in verse that could easily be set to country music.
Thanksgiving
An Outlaw Thanksgiving, by Emily Arnold McCully (Caldecott winning writer of Minette on the High Wir)e. Puffin Books, 1998. Paperback. 10” x 9”
My grands are probably too young for this book, but it’s a nice story about a nice thing that could have been done by the real Butch Cassidy: Clara and her mom, traveling by train to California to meet Dad, get stuck in a snowdrift. To avoid freezing to death, they have to de-train and go somewhere else – Mr. Jones offers to drive them to Brown’s Hole, which Clara learns is where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid are about to launch their careers. Clara never tells her mom what she knows, and everyone has a unique Thanksgiving.
The Night Before Thanksgiving, by Natasha Wing, illustrated by Tammy Lyon. Grosset and Dunlap, 2001. Paperback. 8” x 8”
I know The Night Before Christmas by heart (don't we all?), and can sing it as well, so I am intrigued by this revision. It doesn’t sing as well as the original, or at least not always to the same tune, but the watercolor illustrations are cute and it all makes sense.
Albert’s Thanksgiving, written and illustrated by Leslie Tryon. Atheneum, 1994. 10” x 10”
Animals that act 100% like people are always suspect to me, but not to everyone, and Albert is particularly charming. Like most artist-writers, Tryon limits text, showing her ducks and rabbits engrossed in action. She does insert several notes from PTA President Patsy Pig, each of which asks Albert (a white duck) to help with another chore for the children’s Thanksgiving party. On the back cover we get a kitchen-tested recipe for Pumpkin Pizza Pie, which actually sounds petty good, so the grands and I might try it.
A Re-Telling
Sleeping Ugly, by Jane Yolen, pictures by Diane Stanley. Paperstar, the Putnam and Grosset Group, 1981. 64 pages. 6” x 8” Large type easy reader with nice text
The beautiful princess has an ugly temper, so the old witch refuses to give her three wishes, giving them instead to Plain Jane, who lives in the woods where the princess has got herself lost. They all fall asleep until one day a penniless prince arrives. Before kissing the beautiful princess, he practices on Jane (whose breath smells like roses) and the Witch, who then grants one of Jane’s wishes, that the prince should love her. The nasty princess is left asleep in the corner, forever a conversation starter for guests.
Miscellaneous Fun
I Stink, by Kate and Jim McMullan. Joanna Cottler Books/Harper Collins, 2002. 11” x 9.
My grandson Tony is an imp, a little stinker in his own right. This book about what garbage trucks do should be just right for him. The extroverted trash-crusher is ugly, noisy, crude, and eager to share vocabulary (“dual op,” “hopper,” “hit the throttle,” “bring on the crusher blade,”…) in telling the nasty things it does, such as drip stinky on the street and make alphabet soup out of apple cores, banana peels, candy wrappers, dirty diapers, et al. All two-page spreads, no margins, dingy-bright watercolors and unfettered typography.
Moonlight Kite, by Helen E. Buckley and Elise Primavera. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Books, 1997. 9” x 11”
A big old monastery now houses just three monks, silent and occupied, who discover a kite caught in a tree beside the monastery wall. They rescue it and fly it, remembering their own youth. They then leave it in a smaller tree for the children to retrieve. The children do and then leave it again for the monks, who reciprocate by building a second kite. Soon all the kids of the town fly kites beneath the towers of the monastery and at night watch the monks fly the same kites under the stars.
And a Long Shot
We the Kids, illustrations, concept and foreword by David Catrow. Dial Books for Young Readers, 2002. 9” x 11”
This book was written for middle school readers. It translates the preamble to the US Constitution almost word-by-word into big, kid-funny illustrations. Example: the phrase “establish justice” has a munchkin showing an easelful of rules to his odd-lot buddies: “FAIR,…SHARE,… NO PULLING HAIR.” The phrase “provide for the common defense” shows the family dog wearing a helmet and standing behind a bunker in the moonlight while the kids play in the tent. “Ourselves and our posterity” becomes a picture window from which Mom and Dad watch over the tentful of sleeping kids. We’ll see if I can work it into the Thanksgiving weekend.
P. S. The books all went well. Favorites were Little Red Cowboy Hat, Sleeping Ugly, I Stink, and Way Out West. Albert’s recipe for Pumpkin Pizza Pie turned out to be terrific!
***
Posted by at 10:53 AM | Comments (0)