book scout

The heart of the matter.

I'm pretty sure the internet has reached FULL capacity of moms blogging about Mother's Day by now, so let's just post a few photos of yesterday (and my sweet, silly, boneless offspring),  and skip to the heart of the matter. To all the mothers, and grandmothers, and aunties, and step-moms, and mother-in-laws, and teachers, and caregivers, and soon-to-be mamas, and hoping-to-be-mamas, and fathers who mother, and ANYONE out there with a mother's heart--thank you, thank you, thank you. 

 

That is all.

 

What We're Into: 20 Months

 

I keep wondering if I'll ever write about chapter books again. Maybe? I don't know? I hope so? Let's go with yes.  I mean, I'd probably have to READ some new chapter books in order to actually write about them, but you know, details. (Although, for the record, I did re-read the entire Little House on the Prairie canon in March. But so did your grandma, and she didn't feel the need to blog about it. Probably. *) For now at least, our library bag is full of picture books (with the occasional YA novel thrown in for mom), and is subject to the whims of a capricious toddler. This month's favorite might just be next month's litter box surprise, is all I'm saying. But I really enjoy seeing how his tastes change (or stay the same) with age, and I keep wishing I had a record of the books he's loved throughout the months, as opposed to my favorites, which are not necessarily the same.

He reads independently throughout the day, and I read to him before nap-time and before bedtime as part of our routine. Usually anywhere between 5 and 10 books. It's a lot, I know, but it brings him more joy than anything else in the world (except for maybe mud-puddles; he would shove me into traffic for a mud-puddle), and it's something we both really look forward to each day. So because obviously I'm the only person who's ever read books to her child  in the history of the universe (hahahahaha), I thought a new regular (semi-regular?) series might be in order. Even if it's interesting to exactly negative eight people. And me. And my mom. Hi, Mom! So, taking a cue from the chalkboard at my friend Molly's restaurant (and also on the floor, because my table is covered in crayon)... may I present: What We're Into. 

 

1. The Cat in the Hat. I know I know. So edgy! So original! But it's gotten to the point where I have to hide it if I don't have 45 minutes to read the whole darn thing, because he is obsessed and skipped pages are punishable by tantrum or death. It should be noted that I am also totally guilty of buying all the licensed product Dr. Seuss crap I can find, because while childless me swore she would never ever succumb to such things...as it turns out, exactly 100% more sandwich will be eaten at lunch if served on a Cat in the Hat plate. It's true. Also, his favorite character of all time is Fish. Otherwise known as, 'Shish.'  And if that isn't the most telling thing in the universe I don't know what is. Hashtag: spirit animal.

2. Knuffle Bunny, ALL OF THEM. This was a real surprise to me. Mo Willams was my go-to guy for toddler story time back at the library and bookstore, but when we checked the Pigeon books out of the library a few months back, he was bored to tears. Huh. But Knuffle Bunny was a different story. And thanks to our sweet family and my wonderful bookseller friends, he was given all three books plus the stuffed animal for Easter this year. It blew his tiny mind. I have this theory that the Knuffle Bunny books are for toddlers what say, Game of Thrones, or Lonesome Dove or any other long-ish series are for adults. There is something very comforting about following the same character throughout multiple books, as he/she grows. They come to feel like...family, I guess. When Ewan is sick or teething or just needs a little reassurance about life, these are the books he pulls off the shelf. Every time. 

3. Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear? When you just can't make another farm animal sound, Polar Bear's got your back. Also, I am convinced he really just wants to hear my peacock impression, which is terrible. 

4. Dinosaurs, Dinosaurs. I didn't even know this existed until I plucked it out of the bins at Goodwill one day and it is so brilliant I can't even stand it. The fact that Ewan loves it and is deeply into dinosaurs right now, is icing on the cake. Byron Barton has always been a favorite of mine (remember this post?), but this might be my all-time favorite of his. In some ways it's just a book of opposites, but in other ways, it's this wonderfully comforting story full of shared, um...humanity? I find myself thinking, oh those amazing dinosaurs were not so different than you and me!, and then tearing up a little bit, and it's only noon and I HAVE NOT EVEN BEEN DRINKING. 

5. Alphablock. Or any alphabet books, really. I know he is little bit unique for his age in that department, so this one might be better for older toddlers. There is only one word to sum up the illustrations in Alphablock and that word is RAD. Also the fact that each letter is cut-out makes it really easy to identify and interact with them. He loves to trace their shapes with his fingers (he really wants to learn how to write them right now) and has pretty much destroyed the spine and we've extended our library hold about 6 times now and whoops, sorry Multnomah County! Maybe we should just buy our own? Yeah. Probably.

6. In the Night Kitchen, Which I am including mostly because it is my chef husband's least favorite book, the irony of which is not lost on anyone. We are huge (HUGE) Sendak fans, and although Where the Wild Things Are and Pierre and the rest, are very much in the rotation, Night Kitchen and it's slightly frantic, but super exciting beat, is the current favorite. Aaron thinks it's creepy and refuses to even crack it open, but Ewan and I both think it's funny and fun and only just a little bit dark, so to each his own. 


Obviously, this is just a small fraction of what we read every day, and it was really difficult to narrow it down to a few, but I think this is a fairy accurate representation of Books He Prefers To the Company of Humans. I'm calling it done. I also now realize that six might be too many for you poor people to slog through, so maybe I'll try four or five for next time. Also, if you or your kids or grand-kids or nieces or nephews or students (or any small people in your life) had favorites at this age, please FEEL FREE to share them. I am always looking for new material to shake things up. Obviously my life is very exciting.


*Okay, for the record, I will offer my own two measly cents: Little House in the Big Woods is the best book in the entire series. Boom. Total blasphemy. I love nothing if not a little nerd controversy.

Let's talk about a book.

I know! Right? You can pick your jaw up on the floor. I've been meaning to write about this perfect nugget of a board book for awhile now, but with the 52 Weeks project taking over the blog these past few months, and the fairly drastic life changes that come with opening another restaurant, I just keep forgetting to write about it. Not for want of attention in real life, however. Or for toddler approval. I personally know of a toddler who makes a habit of reading Everyone Eats, by Julie Kuo, at least once, if not fifteen times a day. And it is riveting, in it's own quiet way.
 

As you probably know by now, my little guy is the strong, silent type, and he hasn't shown much interest in learning to sign either... until this book. THIS BOOK. I frequently catch him flipping through the pages, signing 'eat' as he goes along. It makes my heart leap in my chest. I've given it to no fewer than three different children as birthday gifts, and think it works perfectly well for all types of families and their eating habits. And if the illustrations don't make you squee at least once, then...well, I'm not sure we can be friends? I don't know. They're amazingly cute and clever, is all I'm saying.

The publisher is fantastic, but small, so the chances of finding it at your local bookstore are unfortunately very slim. It never would have even crossed my radar if not for Emily. (She has her finger on the pulse, that lady.)  It is worth the hunt, however.  The cadence is perfect and the structure is so comforting. It's no wonder very small people seem to love it. Sometimes the pages will pop into my head odd moments. When I am watching the dog: "Bradley eats cat poop."  Or during a particularly frustrating dinner: "Ewan eats air."  The world does not need to see those illustrations, although I'm sure Kuo would somehow manage. And for the end-paper: Andrea eats chocolate. 
Book-Scout over and out.

52/52

The last one. You, looking more like a boy than a baby, standing in the new restaurant, smiling one of those smiles I'm always trying (but never really managing) to photograph. How did we get here? Why does it all have to go so fast? Maybe you'll read this one day. I don't know. I started this project because I want you to know how much I love you. I want you to know I was looking through the camera, or writing the words, here all the time, loving you. That's all. That's everything.

52: A Portrait A Week

50/52

 

You have looked at me like this since the day you were born. Maybe it's just a trick of the eyes, the same way owls seem to know things, with that slow, deliberate blink, but I have never known such a small person to seem so very wise. All day long you follow me around with an armfull of books wanting to talk about letters. You have a few words now, but nothing makes you happier than spotting DOUBLE-U's. You shout them in running commentary from the backseat as we drive around the city. It reminds me of this, and I laugh. 

52: A Portrait A Week

 

49/52

I am three photos away from finishing this small, enormous, 52 weeks project. I don't really believe it. But of course I do. The same way I can/can't believe this was your face almost one year ago. My photography is still mediocre. I still rarely manage to capture your smile. But even if I finished nothing else this past year (hello, empty baby book), I am glad to say I was able to do this much. To have a record of this year of your life. To remember. The cowlick behind your right ear. The way it feels when you hold my hand. 

52: A Portrait A Week

48/52

I was wondering when (and if) it would happen: the car love. Your dad would rather watch old episodes of Top Gear than do just about anything else, and your grandpa was a rally car racer in Scotland back in the day (he drove a Mini), so I am not at all surprised.  And me? Well, I could watch you play with your little red race car all day.

52: A Portrait A Week

47/52

This is the last photo taken of you at the old restaurant. I know you will likely never remember running along the bar, stealing oranges, playing on the back step, nursing next to the walk in, eating ice-cream at the couner, picking herbs out back, trying to sneak into the kitchen over and over again. But I will. I will never forget it.

 

52: A Portrait A Week

45/52

 

Thankfully I remembered the cat had a fake plastic snake toy before I let out any kind of blood curdling scream.

52: A Portrait A Week

44/52

 

 

You can't seem to hold a pout for more than three seconds without cracking a smile. Not unlike your mother. 
 

 

52: A Portrait A Week