David goes to school --- when?

Two nights ago, I was reading "David Goes to School" by David Shannon to my own little kindergarten student.

We love David Shannon. "No David" is a pure example of a perfectly executed children's book. Even when my son was a baby he laughed out loud at the pictures and he appreciates it more every year.

But "David Goes to School?"

It doesn't work as well. It is -- dare I say it? -- dated.

Certainly some schools are more strict than others, but my son can't really relate to the school in the book, a place of drudgery and rules. There's not a single moment that seems joyful. My son LOVES school. At the end, when the teacher tells David he has to stay afterschool, my son shouted: "He gets to go to afterschool!" He thinks afterschool is cool and resents the fact that my job is flexible and I pick him up when school is out. He didn't even realize David was being punished.

Oh well. Maybe it works better for other kids!

A house of readers

I worry about my baby.

Well, that goes without saying.

But I specifically worry that he won't be a reader. I think he'll learn to read, but I fear he won't love it. Not like his mother and his father and his older brother. The reason? Becuase he's not being read to as much.

When his older brother was born, I would read to him from adult books while nursing. I would read the closed captioning from the history channel to him, trying to sooth him to sleep. I would tell him stories while driving him to his well baby checkups?

But now? With this second one? I'm too tired for all that. I multitask enough, thank you very much. I am not about to read aloud while nursing.

The baby was in his play pen the other day while I cleaned the kitchen in the next room. Things got quiet and I thought I'd better check. There he was 10 months old, sitting up straight and proud, a board book in his hands -- right side up -- and he was carefully turning the pages. He was fascinated.

He has not been read to as much, but he has seen a household of readers. And just as he wants to take steps like us and feed himself like we do -- he wants to do this as well.

He's going to be reader!

Not enough marketing products?

I can't believe I'm about to complain about this, but Little Einsteins needs to get in gear and start producing some cross-promotional junk.

We need cake toppers! We need birthday kazoos! We need lots of plastic toys that stick in the vacuum. And most of all we need BOOKS.

Disney's new TV show, Little Einsteins, is a hit at our house and it's one bit of tv that I actually feel good about. Each episode features a composer and an artist of the day. And it teaches musical terms during the course of the show. You feel pretty good when you're telling your four-year-old son to run in before it rains and he says: "I guess we better go allegro!"

But when I went to Barnes and Noble today, the kids lit manager had never HEARD of the show. (It's not some obscure public television thing. It's Disney.) And she tried to steer me toward Baby Einstein board books for kids who measure their age in months.

Has Disney lost their touch?

Make Way for Ducklings

I was in a hurry. (As usual.) And I was driving down Hurstbourne Parkway, one of Louisville's largest, widest, busiest roads.

It was all tied up. I was creeping, crawling, wondering if I should try to veer off, turn around, and go another way. But I wasn't close to a good place to turn.

I feared an interstate wreck, but I could see the traffic on the interstate above, speeding along as usual. The problem was on Hurstbourne itself. That did not bode well. I usually try to remain calm in the car. Road rage gives you wrinkles. But I confess I was gripping the wheel somewhat tightly.

But then, up ahead, I saw some women in the road scurrying around. I couldn't imagine what they were doing in the middle of six lanes of traffic. There was no obvious wreckage to clear. Their movements were too erratic to be picking up dropped cargo. What was going on?

And then, I saw something below them. There were ducklings. It looked like, maybe, 20 of them, all gathered around a harried-looking mother duck. She was hustling, but taking her time about it. (Ducks can do that.) Finally, she spotted the end of the pavement and make a run for it, the babies staying right with her. Quick as that, they were off Hurstbourne and in a very homey looking draining ditch.

"Look!" I cried to my son. "Look! It's like Make Way for Ducklings!"

My son loves to read and he usually enjoys even old books. But Make Way for Ducklings does not translate well for him, despite being a classic. I don't know why, exactly. It never really did for me either. I think it's because the only human character has a job that is so hard to relate to now. He directs traffic? Full time?

But there, on one of the busiest streets of Louisville yesterday, the moment was recreated. Two women were helping a mama duck. And Hurstbourne stood still -- or at least really slowed down -- because of it.

It made me smile all day.

Captain Underpants and Professor Pippy PeePee Poopypants

I can not believe I am reading these books.

But Ike is obsessed with them and laughs so hard that I'm afraid he's going to forget to breath.

The Captain Underpants series is science fiction for kids who still like pictures with their books, but have attention spans that take them beyond typical picture books which rarely top 20 pages.

Captain Underpants books are, by comparison, more like 200 and the drawings are simple black and white pencil creations. The drawings are, in other words, just enough to help a four-year-old get over the hurdle of needing a place to put his eyes while Mom reads and reads and reads.

The book follows the adventures of George and Harold, who hypnotized their mean old school principal once and now don't know how to undo it. Anytime someone snaps their fingers, the principal turns into Captain Underpants. Tra-la-la!

It's juvenile. A lot of the humor comes from enemies with names like Professor Pippy PeePee Poopypants. I occasionally fit it a bit overly precious. (I roll my eyes when the kid heroes make comments on whether or not various plot points will work for a children's audience, for example.)

But they're action-packed, definitely fun and must easier to sell to a four-year-old boy as a first chapter books than Little House in the Big Woods is. I mean, come on. How long can a four-year-old really be expected to sit still while listening to a description of canning.

So it's Captain Underpants for us. Tra-la-la!

The Plant Sitter By Gene Zion

This weekend my son caught me in the middle of a something he doesn't often see me do. I was planting something! I was actually getting my hands dirty, trying to transplant a decorative cactus into a pot on our patio.

My four-year-old thought this was great and he immediately started plotting. "We should have plants in the whole house," Ike said. "So many that you can't even walk around. It will be like that book."

That book?

"That book with the boy and the plants."

Ah, The Plant Sitter, a 1959 book by Gene Zion and Margaret Bloy Graham. You may know their more popular book, a 1956 delight entitled Harry the Dirty Dog.

Harry the Dirty Dog, as of today, is still a top-20,000 book on Amazon. Not bad for a book that's 51 years old. But The Plant Sitter is out of print. You have to find one from, basically, an antique dealer. We have a copy only because of a friend who scours Goodwill shops for children's books and then passes on good ones to family's with kids.

Thanks to our friend, my son has a lot of books. So it speaks well of this one that it is remembered and referred to, even when it hasn't been read in months. My husband was grilling our holiday meal. A sandbox and a new bike beckoned. But my son was running inside to search his overstuffed bookshelf for a book that was even older than his parents. "We need to read that book again," Ike said. "It might have a little recipe at the end to show us how to do the same thing."

He found it and we sat on the patio and re-read the story of a boy who decides to spend his summer earning money by caring for vacationing neighbor's plants. He does such a good job that the plants thrive in his home and soon every room in the house is filled with plants. When his father wants to turn the channel on the television, he has to fight his way through. It is almost like a jungle. ("I guess he didn't have a remote," Ike said.)

Here's why this book is great:

1) It shows a boy in a nurturing role. He's not fighting, getting into trouble or exploring. He's gently caring for living things. It's a nice change from most books.

2) It shows a boy turning to books for answers. When his plants threaten to take over the house, he finds a book at the library called: "Are your plants too big?" It helps him solve his problem.

There was no "recipe" at the end, but it did force me to vow to go to the library to find a book about gardening for kids.

What more could you want from one old picture book?

I love Harry the Dirty Dog. Who doesn't? But I think I like The Plant Sitter even more.

Mo Willems new books are a hit!

"Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus," by Mo Willems has been heralded as a new classic for kids ever since it was released in 2004. It's spawned several sequels and it is truly a delight.

But Mo Willems new series, launched last month and featuring the friendship of a pig and a elephant, is even more fun.

"Today I Will Fly" and "My Friend is Sad" are books that work on a lot of a different levels. I initially spotted them as potential baby books. They had the hallmarks of that -- just a few words and very simple drawings.

On closer inspection, I noticed that they repeat just a few words over and over again -- the classic sign of books for beginning readers. (Although better done than most.)

So was it a book for a reader or for a baby?

The answer came when I read "Today I will Fly" to my pre-reading four-year-old and discovered that this new series works for everyone -- including mom. This is a simple story made fantastic by the use of excellent facial expressions, body language and real emotion. (The elephant and pig get frustrated with each other in ways that any family will be quite familiar with.)

I don't know the last time we enjoyed a book so much! And we enjoy books every night!

My son was laughing in absolute delight and when he said: "Read it again!" I was happy to do so. In fact, I would have insisted.

Morning books

My oldest was not yet three on the night that I checked on him in his sleep and found 16 books stacked by his pillow. "What is this?" I asked my husband, who had put him to bed that night.

"He said it was his 'morning books,'" Jim said. "I thought it was something you had started with him."

No, it was something he came up with all on his own. The sad thing about the nighttime reading ritual is that it eventually has to end. For a boy who loves books the best way to deal with the disappointment is to think about all that you will read the next day. Sixteen of them tomorrow morning!

My son is almost five now, but morning books are still part of our family lexicon. There are moments, like this one, when he comes running into our dark room beating the sunrise by a good hour, his arms full of favorite stories. "It's time for morning books!" he says.

There's a baby in our house and so there are nights that I am up multiple times for feedings or fevers. On those mornings, I'm so sleepy I must struggle not to fall asleep mid-sentence. Sylvester McMonkey McZZZZZ.

This is insane, I think. It's not even light out.

But I struggle onward because I want my child to be the sort of kid who wakes up early to read and if that means I have to get up a little early to read to him, well so be it.

After all, that's what they invited coffee for!

Teaching a child to love books

We do a lot of things wrong at our house, but this is one thing that's going well so far. Our sons are learning that books are valuable tools, and great fun besides.

The secret?

We've made a point of showing them how we use books everyday. It mostly amounts to thinking out loud. "I think I'm going to look in this cookbook to see how long I should cook the chicken tonight," I might say. Or" I think I need to check the baby book to find the best way to take the baby's temperature."

Of course, this means you have to use a book for those things, rather than Google. But even turnign to the computer counts, if you point out to the child that you're reading the answers. I don't mean giving them a lecture about "this is the importance of reading." I mean simply saying: "I don't know why Mars is red. Let's go read about it on the computer!"