The Princess in Our Front Yard

We planted a tree last week. And a dream 10 years in the making came true for me.

Who knew such a little mite of a thing could fill me with such exhilaration and happiness?

I remember perfectly the first time I saw a flowering cherry tree. I was finishing up my second semester at BYU. Amid the stress of finals, the entire campus bloomed in a breathtaking display of color and fragrance. I honestly can't remember a spring before or since that has been quite as gorgeous to me (whether or not this had anything to do with the fact that I was also extremely twitterpated at the time, I really can't say).

I lived in the dorms at the time (grand ol' Deseret Towers, nicknamed Death Trap because of its unsound earthquake structure and consequently torn down a few years later). One evening I walked out of the Morris Center and stopped still in my tracks. There before me was a princess of unprecedented beauty. The blossoms were big and feathery. They looked like carnations.

 

I was enraptured, and I vowed right then and there that someday just such a tree would reign in my front yard.

Spring 2004 - With Beth, my dear friend (and roommate at the time)

The next spring, I married that boy I was so twitterpated with. After we graduated and moved to Salt Lake, I discovered that the art gallery across the street had a whole row of flowering cherry trees.

Spring 2011 - With 14-month-old Maxwell

Up until then, I still didn't know what kind of tree it was, but I noticed that a family from church had one in their front yard, and one Sunday I asked the mom what it was called. She told me "blossoming cherry," which I faithfully remembered, and it wasn't until very recently that I discovered this variety is actually called a kwanzan flowering cherry.

It would have been nice if the home we bought had already had a flowering cherry tree in its front yard (I'm pretty sure I would have considered it a sign that it was the right house for us). It didn't, but it had the next best thing: a front yard completely empty of trees, a perfect canvas for my dream.

Despite years of talking about this one specific tree, I think Mike was still surprised when we were tree shopping last week and I found a flowering cherry and insisted that we buy it right then and there.

Our biggest dilemma after that was just deciding where in the front yard it should go.

My awesome crew of tree planters

We finally settled on a spot close to the house. In a few years, I will be able to gaze out on its frothy pinkness while I do the dishes. I can't wait.

It probably sounds silly, but seeing that little tree just fills up my heart a little bit. It was such a teeny tiny dream, but it was something I thought about every spring. A year ago, I never thought that in just ten months time, we would own our own home, much less that I would be enjoying the baby blossoms of my baby tree. If such things can happen, what else is possible?

Siblings Without Rivalry by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish

There are some days when I feel like I'm going crazy.

Amend that.

Most days I feel like I'm going crazy.

And nothing sends me into crazy mode faster than hearing my kids scream and cry and yell at each other . . . and then tattle it all to me. Before I had kids, I never would have guessed that a five-year-old, a four-year-old, and a two-year-old could have perfected the art of fighting so well, nor that the two-year-old could be the root of 85% of the problems.

Care to listen in on a typical drive to school in the morning?

Maxwell: [humming to himself]

Bradley: I don't LIKE that!

Maxwell: [continues humming, a little louder, now that he knows he has an irritated audience]

Bradley [volume increasing]: I DON'T LIKE THAT!!! [primitive noises erupt]

Maxwell: I'm just singing.

Bradley: NOOOOOOO! Stop that right now!

Maxwell: Stop screaming! [begins imitating the primitive noises]

[A battle of screams, growls, and roars ensues.]

I pull the car over until the screaming stops. We continue on our (seven-minute) drive.

Maxwell: [looking at a book]

Bradley: That's my book! Max, give it to me! [primitive noises erupt]

Etc., etc. etc.

I know sibling rivalry is normal. Trust me. I have five brothers and two sisters. But somehow, it feels so different on the parental side. I feel responsible for my children developing good feelings toward each other. And, I'll be honest, the bickering really wears on me until I succumb to primitive noises myself.

I turned to this book in a moment of desperation inspiration. I just wanted one good idea, maybe two, that I could implement right now and bring some peace into our home. 

This is exactly what I was looking for: it was easy to read, practical, and not research-based. (Sometimes I want a lot of data, but not this time. I wanted to know what real parents were doing, not what science said they should do.)

The book is organized as if you're listening in on a seven-week parent workshop. Each chapter is another nightly session beginning with follow-up on the session from last week, discussing in detail a new subtopic complete with strategies and role-playing,  and ending with goals for the upcoming week. I've never read a parenting book with quite this format, and I loved it. It was so accessible to me.

The material for the book is taken from actual workshops given by authors Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish. They discuss such issues as the danger of comparisons, the impossibility of making everything equal, and what to do when all else fails. Many of the discussions are accompanied by comic-style illustrations, which I found surprisingly helpful.

However, the real test has come as I've tried to actually apply some of what I learned.

And gosh, it's hard!

When the screaming and scratching and hitting begins, my mind begins to race and then goes completely blank. All I can hear is the screaming, screaming, screaming. I can't remember what I'm supposed to do, and suddenly the situation I'm dealing with seems like it doesn't resemble anything in the book. I resort to my usual, "Stop that right now! Do you hear me? Stop that!!! Okay, you there, go to your room!" And that technique has obviously proven to work so well (not).

So for the time being, I'm just going to choose three techniques I can use to handle some of the problems. Sure, they won't take care of everything, but if I try to fix it all in one fell swoop, I know I won't end up fixing anything. 

It always helps if I write out my intentions, so here they are:

• When one of them hits (or bites) (or scratches): "Hitting is never acceptable. You two need to spend some time apart, and then you can try playing together again." Escort them to separate rooms in the house, not necessarily for a time out, but just for some much-needed alone time.
• When they are all clamoring for my attention at the same time: "Aaron, will you help Bradley put on his shoes? Maxwell, will you go turn off the lights downstairs so we can leave?" I've noticed my kids' behavior changes instantly when they feel like their help is valued and needed. It immediately changes the mood in the room when they are doing things I can praise them for.
• When they are engaged in a screaming contest: "Bradley, I can see that you really want Max to stop singing. Is that right? Max, I can tell that you want to continue your song." Sometimes, acknowledging their feelings will solve the problem by itself. But if it doesn't, then, "Can you boys come up with a solution, or do I need to help you?" I feel kind of silly writing that, like my two-year-old will really be able to come up with a "solution" on his own? But I have noticed that he already knows kind words are more effective than screams and that he would rather be with his brothers than away from them. I think I need to give them more trust to work things out on their own but then also be willing to give some of my time to help them come to a peaceful resolution instead of just being so quick to yell and punish.

Mike is also reading this book. When he's done with it (or maybe at the halfway point), we'll discuss other things we can do to remedy some of the fighting. It always helps when we're using the same techniques to achieve the same goals. Our kids feel that unity, and we feel empowered because we're not trying to solve all the problems alone.

One of the most helpful parts of the book for me was the afterword. The authors wrote this section years later after they'd given many more workshops and heard the problems and solutions of many more parents. They devoted much of this section to the unique problems of young children, which is exactly what I needed. They shared many stories and examples, and each one demonstrated a creative application of something mentioned earlier. The suggestions themselves were so good, but then it also made me realize that there are a million different ways for me to help my kids live peacefully with each other.

I've probably given the impression that our home is one constant fight after another, but it isn't. In fact, most of the time I am so happy my kids are so close in age because they play so well together. But there are moments every day when I feel that peace disrupted and our irritation and frustration with each other escalate. I really hate those moments, and that is why I felt like this book was a great investment of my time.

I Am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up for Education and Was Shot by the Taliban by Malala Yousafzai

I just ate my first otter pop of the season (it is nearly 80 degrees here today), and it was heavenly. Seriously, I don't think an otter pop has ever tasted so perfectly delicious to me.

And now I'm trying to figure out a way to tie in otter pops with I Am Malala. Um . . . thinking . . . and nope. I guess you'll just have to consider that your random thought for the day.

Moving on . . .

I read I Am Malala right in the midst of our move. It has been an extremely popular book over the last six months (it won the Goodreads Choice Award in the Memoir and Autobiography category), and snagging a library copy was difficult. With all the chaos our move created, my time to sit down with an actual book was limited. I read about half of it before the list of holds called it back to the library. That same week, the audio version of it came in (seriously, could I have timed it any better?), and I was able to fly through the second half as I unpacked and painted and cleaned.

I'm actually so glad my reading of this book was split between the hardback and the audio. I liked seeing the names of places/people and paging through all the photographs, but then it was so nice to actually hear what all those names of places/people were supposed to sound like.

Malala Yousafzai is a 16-year-old young woman from the Swat Valley in Pakistan. Her father has done much to promote and facilitate the education of boys and girls in their country.  As Malala grew up and attended her father's school, she began speaking out about the importance of education for girls. At this same time, the Taliban took control of many areas of Pakistan and severely suppressed women's rights. Malala and her father did not back down, and on October 9, 2012, her school bus was stopped by the Taliban, and she was shot in the head. After her miraculous recovery, she has become even more of an advocate and international voice for women's education.

The thing I had to keep reminding myself of while reading this book was that these events just barely happened. While Malala's story is incredible, her perspective is somewhat limited. At the very end, she is writing about things that took place in August 2013, not even a year ago. Part of the reason why this book is so popular right now is because it is very, very current. But that's also somewhat of a drawback because so much of this story is still in the future.

Along those same lines, I was struck by the naivete and innocence of Malala's voice. At 16 years old, she is still very much a young woman with limited experience. In some ways, this made her story more profound because it was so simple and untarnished. But at the same time, it almost felt like something was missing, and I think it might be the added wisdom and perspective that ten (or twenty) more years will give her. And yet, if she had waited to write her story, the innocence of youth would have been lost. (One of my favorite parts was when she mentioned reading The Wizard of Oz for the first time when she was recovering in Birmingham, England. She said she was so inspired by Dorothy's story, and I just had to wonder how many 16-year-old American girls would count Dorothy as a role model (or at least admit to such.))

However, for all Malala's innocence on one hand, she has been exposed to a dark side of the world that many parents try to protect their children from. I was kind of shocked by how little I knew about the Taliban's control, especially the ways in which they stripped the people of their culture and history. It is so crazy that these kinds of things are happening right now; they feel like they should be restricted to the tragedies of past centuries.

Because of all we had going on, I didn't take as many notes as I usually do while reading (okay, I actually didn't take any notes). But I do remember three things that stuck out to me at the time: First, Malala's belief in God; I was so impressed by her deep faith and how familiar it felt to my own. Second, Malala's courage; she has continued to be a voice for education, now on a much more visible and international scale; when asked about her fears, she said that she's already faced the worst-case scenario (death), and now she is just going to move forward trusting in God. Third, Malala's father. I know he's received some criticism for putting Malala in dangerous situations, but I don't think he ever thought the Taliban would come after her (he thought he would be the one targeted); and really, I have to admire and praise the incredible love he has for his daughter and for sharing that love so publicly.

I will be interested to see how this book holds up over time, but for right now, it was a very relevant and important read.

Raising Readers: Teaching Children to Read With Expression

Did you think this series had gone the way of all the earth, never to return to this blog? The seven-month break was entirely unintentional and unplanned. In fact, I've drafted several posts over the last few months but just never finished them. That's kind of how my life feels right now: a million projects (or books) half-started.

Anyway, I'm recommitting myself to this series because it is something I'm very passionate about. And from now on, you can count on a Raising Readers post on the first Monday of every month (unless I'm having a baby). How's that for commitment?

Anyway, I've said before that these are very much in-the-trenches types of posts . . . just my own observations and experiments with my kids as we navigate the wonderful world of reading.

And so today, I'm going to share some of the tips I've discovered to encourage Aaron to read with more expression.

Aaron reads quite a bit, but I've noticed that as his speed has increased, his reading has become more of a mumbled mutter than an enjoyable narration. I think this is only natural as he goes from reading aloud the majority of the time to reading silently in his head. Reading aloud is slowing him down, and I am fine letting him test his reading wings and take off on a faster path.

However . . . reading aloud is still a vital and practical skill. Aaron often reads to Maxwell and Bradley, and it has been getting harder and harder for them to hear the mumbled mutter.

So I've been encouraging Aaron to try reading with a little more excitement and passion. Here are a few of the things we've successfully tried:

Explain punctuation. That's a given, right? But you'd be surprised how much it helps to point out an exclamation point and say something like, "Oh, look at that! He must be excited about going on a field trip." Or give a gentle reminder, "Pause at the period." A few months ago, Aaron figured out what an ellipsis was (I don't think I ever sat down and explained it to him), and now he lets his voice trail off when he comes to one.

"Read it so I'll be interested." I thought Aaron would balk when I first made this suggestion. But he didn't. Instead he rose to the occasion. Just reminding him he had an audience made him increase the volume of his voice and slow down just a little. I have to admit I didn't think it would work, but sometimes improvement can be made just by drawing attention to the thing that needs improving.

Try reading a book with limited text. We recently discovered a delightful book called Moo! by David LaRochelle. The whole story is told with only one word (moo) used multiple times and to connote multiple emotions and expressions: a question, uh-oh, joy, panic, fear, embarrassment, disappointment, and blame. A book like this is great for a reader who is somewhat reluctant to read with expression. Why? Because it's pretty boring to read the same word over and over again in the same flat voice. The fun comes in trying to make "moo" sound like different words and phrases. I've also found that the Elephant & Piggie books by Mo Willems are great choices if you're looking to simplify the text without simplifying the emotions.

Give a second chance. Occasionally, I will stop Aaron mid-page, and ask, "Do you think that's really how Frog asked that question? Why don't you try it again?" Obviously, I don't do this too often (like, twice in a 15-20 minute time frame), or Aaron would probably start crying, "Stop interrupting me!" But he will tolerate, and even enjoy, a couple of second chances.

Read something with a repeated refrain. Aaron checked out Inside a Barn in the Country from school (a take on This is the House That Jack Built), and I was amazed with how relaxed and confident he sounded while reading it. His voice was actually lilting. As the text built on itself and repeated the same phrases, he began to read more expressively instead of falling into a boring monotone.

Encourage them to help YOU. When you're reading aloud, make sure to encourage participation. We recently read Warning: Do Not Open This Book, which is full of opportunities for the reader to interact with the story. As children yell instructions or whisper warnings or giggle hysterically, they are actually beginning to develop their earliest read-aloud skills.

Read the story first. Then have him read it. This is probably one of the best things I've done to help Aaron read expressively. If he can get a general feeling for the story first, it helps when he takes a turn reading it. He's not distracted trying to figure out what's going on, so he can focus more on enjoying the words. I admit, lately he's been doing so much reading that I usually don't have a chance to read it aloud to him first. But I was reminded of how valuable this is when Bradley asked Aaron to read The Three Little Gators to him a few days ago. I paused to listen, and I was shocked to hear the mean and gruff words of the boar followed by the sassy and stubborn three little gators as they shouted, "Bad choice!" Was this really my Aaron reading this book? Then I remembered that I had read it aloud the day before. That had made all the difference.

Model expressive reading. Okay, this is almost the same as the one above, but it bears repeating. Really the only way for a child to learn to read expressively is to hear it modeled on a consistent basis. You'd be surprised how many adults read in the mumbled mutter style. Or maybe you wouldn't. At any rate, the more you read to your child (regardless of whether or not they'll be reading the same material you just read) and vary the pitch and accents and emotions, the more they build up their personal database of good examples.

What things have you done to encourage children to read with greater expression?

For more ideas about how to raise readers, click here to see previous posts.

KidPages: Bedtime at the Swamp

I always know we've discovered a great new picture book when I hear my husband reading it to the boys for the first time, and I think to myself, I wish I was the one reading right now.

That's precisely what happened the first night I overheard Bedtime at the Swamp by Kristyn Crow.

And the second night.

And finally, the third night, I begged the boys for a turn to read it.

Evening is just creeping in when the boy in the story hears a splashing sound. He is sure it is the illusive swamp monster out to get him, and he takes off running. He finds safety in a nearby willow tree and is soon joined by his sister, brother, and two cousins, who were all sent to fetch him to bed. However, as soon as each one hears the, "Splish splash, rumba-rumba, bim bam BOOM!," they decide the tree's branches seem like a good idea.

Suddenly the swamp monster springs out from the Black Lagoon, and it is at that moment the children realize they were mistaken and their biggest threat is just behind him.

I am a total sucker for a knee-slappin', toe-tappin', infectious rhyme. Besides the hypnotic "splish splash, rumba rumba, bim bam BOOM," each verse has a definite rhythmic beat and works best if you can manage a convincing Southern twang (thankfully my listeners were not the least judgmental of my attempt).

It also emits just the right mix of suspense and fear to make it a great curl-up-and-sit-still bedtime story. The text naturally leads you to alter the speed and volume of your voice to match the action in the story. The illustrations, vibrant and terrifying, match the text in all the right ways (I think my favorite picture is the one where all the kids, plus their dog, are peeking over the edge of the tree. The swamp monster is clinging to the trunk below, and the whole page is bathed in an otherworldly green glow). And, in the end, it's not really very scary at all, so no worries about nightmares. 

Now that we've had the book from the library for a couple of weeks, I think my favorite part has been listening to my two-year-old read it to himself. It's just so cute hearing him say, "Splish splash, rumba-rumba, bim bam BOOM!" (although his Southern twang could use a little work). In fact, we've all been going around the house chanting that refrain. I'll bet even you, just reading this post, can't help whispering them to yourself.

Preschool: Doctors and the Letter X

Maxwell is part of a preschool co-op this school year. The group consists of six children, two girls and four boys. We do a weekly number, letter, color, and theme. For more of our preschool lesson plans, click here.

When I first found out that it would be my turn to teach Maxwell's little preschool group when the theme was "doctors and hospitals," my ideas were limited. Usually I use books as the starting point for my preparation, but I couldn't think of any good doctor books (aside from the "classic" The Berenstain Bears Go to the Doctor, which you will indeed see featured later on).

So I considered it nothing short of providential when I checked my email (after finally getting internet set up at our new house) and found a review request from Dr. Stephanie Cox, a pediatrician, who had written a book called, My Doctor and Me ABC.

I hurried off a reply, fearing I was too late since preschool was less than a week away. But Dr. Cox (bless her!) put it in the mail immediately, and it arrived just in time.

It proved to be the perfect lead-in to our activities about doctors. It was the first item on the agenda after we completed our welcome and calendar activities.

As the title suggests, the book explores the doctor's office through the ABC's (for once, "X is for X-ray" didn't seem like a cop out), with each page focusing on one letter: D is for Diagnosis, O is for Otoscope, etc.

One of the things I loved about this book was that it introduced a lot of medical terms to the children: uvula, abdomen, physician, fracture, and others. As I read the book to the preschool kids, we stopped and discussed some of these in greater detail.

The illustrations are simple and nondescript. They enhance the text without distracting. The text is informative and told in catchy rhymes. This is just the right kind of informational book for 3-5 year-olds. It worked great for our preschool co-op, and I think it would be perfect for kids who are a little bit nervous about visiting the doctor.

(Side note: until recently, it was only available as an e-book, but now, as you can see from above, there is a paperback version available. My kids have looked at and listened to it many times, and it even made Aaron and Maxwell decide to examine each other's uvulas!)

After the story, we worked on this worksheet about the letter X . I have to say  I've been impressed with how much the writing skills of all the children have improved over the course of the school year.

We finished the worksheet just in time for a visit from a very special guest. A few weeks before, I had asked my good friend, Jen (an internal medicine physician), if she would be willing to come talk to the kids about what it's like to be a doctor.

She came in an official looking white coat with a trusty stethoscope draped around her neck (and accompanied by her adorable daughter), and she was definitely the highlight of the day.

She talked to the kids about what it takes to be a doctor: years of schooling, practicing skills, reading huge, heavy textbooks, etc.

She brought bandages so they could wrap up each other's injures:

Those who wanted to could don a germ-concealing mask:

Then she pulled out her reflex hammer and tested all the kids' reflexes (which they all thought was super funny):

She listened to their heartbeats and then let them listen to each other's and also to their own. She pulled out an otoscope and showed them how it worked. And then, the crowning event, she gave each of them a bandaid, which just shows that besides being a doctor, she also understands that preschoolers don't need a reason to wear a bandaid. It was so nice of her to come spend the afternoon with us, and it really helped the kids learn what goes on in a doctor's office without feeling any sort of anxiety or pressure.

By that time, the kids were hungry, so we paused for a quick snack. I wanted something that would be healthy, so we went with apple slices (you know, "an apple a day . . . "). Since we had also just celebrated St. Patrick's Day the day before, I also wanted something green. So I made these Popeye Muffins, which get their vibrant green color from spinach.

I was fortunate enough to have another mom helping me, so for our next activity, I actually split up the kids into two groups.

One of the groups worked on these skeletons (i.e., full body x-rays) made from Q-tips.

I lightly drew white lines on the paper ahead of time so that the kids would know where to glue the Q-tips if they wanted a little help. I actually thought several of them would want to use the blank side of the paper and make their skeletons a little different from the design I drew. But they all went with my version, so all of the skeletons ended up looking almost exactly the same. Oh well.

Meanwhile, I brought the other kids back into the living room for a little imaginative play. When I was a kid, my siblings and I were crazy about Playmobil. For years, we diligently saved our money for months at a time until we had enough to buy a new set. When I started planning this preschool lesson, I remembered that I had the operating and recovery rooms stored away at my parents' house, and I begged my mom to mail them to me so the kids could play with them.

They had so much fun, and it was definitely a good idea to split them up into smaller groups so there wasn't any fighting over various pieces.

On the second day of preschool, we began by reading this favorite:

I know the Berenstain Bears can be very divisive--either you love them or you hate them. I happen to love them, as long as they're the ones from the 70's and 80's. Many of the children had heard this book before, but it totally captured their interest anyway.

After the story, we talked about the heart. I showed them pictures from the First Human Body Encyclopedia. And then we watched this short video about how blood travels in and out of the heart. Then I gave the kids this picture of the heart to color.

Then we learned a little bit about muscles. I found this idea for a bicep/tricep model but thought it would be too difficult for the kids to assemble on their own. So I asked Mike (my husband) if he'd make one for each child.

After we talked about the way the muscles move to let their arms bend and straighten, they traced and cut out their hands and attached them to the model.

Then they spent some time stretching them back and forth.

The rest of the morning was spent with a snack (it was the day before one boy's birthday, so we had cheese and crackers because he loves cheese), rotating the groups from the day before (with the skeleton and the Playmobil) and playing outside.

Henry and Beezus by Beverly Cleary

Ever since we finished Henry Huggins, the boys and I have been anxious to read more of Henry's adventures and mishaps.

In this installment, Henry wants a bike more than he's ever wanted anything. Unfortunately, his parents tell him there just isn't enough money for them to go out and buy him a brand-new bicycle. It only adds insult to injury when cocky show-off Scooter saves the day by speeding off on his own bike to catch Ribsy, who has just made off with the neighbors' steak dinner. Henry knows he would do amazing things with his bike too, so he determines that, with or without his parents' help, he is going to acquire a bicycle . . . and he's going to do it before the annual Rose Festival parade.

But coming up with $59.95 isn't easy. He tries delivering papers, selling bubble gum, and buying a used one at the bicycle auction, but all he ends up with is a parking ticket and an embarrassed ego. He is about to give up on ever owning a shiny red bike when fate hands him a golden ticket.

We enjoyed this book just as much as the first one. I think I mentioned before that, while I read all the Ramona books, I never read any of Henry's stories when I was younger. I'm kind of amazed by how much I'm enjoying them as an adult. To be sure, much of my enjoyment comes in seeing Aaron's and Maxwell's reactions when Ribsy collects all of the morning newspapers from the neighbors' front walks or when Henry accidentally buys a girl's bike. But the boys aside, I have also been enjoying it for my own sake.

Each chapter is unpredictable in a delightful way. For example, in the last chapter, Henry goes to the grand opening of the new Colossal Market where they are giving away 25 door prizes. Of course, Aaron, Maxwell, and I conjectured that Henry was going to win his shiny red bike at the giveaway (it was the last chapter, after all). Well, Henry did indeed win a door prize, but it was not a brand-new red bicycle. It was something totally unexpected and hilarious; something that just made you want to give Henry a sympathetic pat on the back; but something that, almost miraculously, helped him get the possession he most wanted. It's really genius writing.

Also, here again, Beverly Cleary came up with story lines and subjects that were exactly the kinds of things my boys are interested in: bikes and gum and dogs and chases and general mayhem. While I know girls will like these books too, I can't deny that the interests of boys are clearly being given the spotlight, and I love it.

One of Aaron and Maxwell's favorite characters was Ramona. She could get them laughing like nothing else--from her games of "waiting at the bus stop" to her insistence that she was hungry or thirsty or bored, she was one of their prime interests. Their very favorite Ramona scene was when she, quite unintentionally, helped untrain Ribsy when he was stealing all the neighbors' newspapers. Every time she aimed her water gun at someone and yelled, "You're dead!" they both erupted into fits of laughter. I think I could have read that chapter again and again, and it would have still been funny to them. It makes me wonder if, even though we're enjoying Henry's books so much, we should maybe take a slight detour and try a Ramona book or two.


One thing that struck me again with this book, as with the first one, was the hands-off approach of Henry's parents. He wants a bike, they tell him they wish he had one but they can't afford one, and then they leave it in his hands. And Henry runs with that confidence and freedom. I'm not one to go out and buy my kids brand-new toys whenever the fancy strikes them, but I think I would at least help them think of ways to earn money or scour garage sales or the classifieds with them. But there is something so refreshing in the way Henry's parents handle it because you can almost see Henry's independence growing as he becomes responsible for his own wants.

If you have not introduced the amazing stories of Beverly Cleary to your children (or yourself), you are missing out. They are absolutely timeless, and I can't wait to read another one with my kids.