Booked.

My son was trying to locate a copy of Lord of the Flies this month, but accidentally picked up The Hunger Games instead. Trapped kids, lots of violence, an easy mistake to make. I decided to read alongside him, so I plunked my bookmark in with his. He would read a bit, I would catch up. I would read a bit, he would catch up. It was all fun and games (games! ha!) until I got hooked and my bookmark was speeding along at a frankly obnoxious rate. How were we supposed to talk about the book if I kept reading ahead after bedtime? Did I care about him at all??

In my defense, I dare any of you to read only one chapter of The Hunger Games and walk away without a parent making you go to sleep.

This recent parallel-reading made me think of how special it is to share books that are part of my life story, books that help me answer the request for, “Tell me stories of when you were little!” Because it’s hard to separate young Meg from The Baby-Sitters Club or Little Women or “The Tell-Tale Heart” (I had my eccentricities).

My son finally did get a copy of Lord of the Flies, and I was itching to tell my very bitter story-of-when-I-was-little, but I couldn’t because, alas, it involved a spoiler. I’ll share it here, if you promise to stop reading right now if you haven’t read Lord of the Flies, because then I would be a hypocrite and have to let go of my resentment, which would be a shame.

I will preface this story by saying that this high school teacher did many really fun things, like assign costumed skits and coach academic teams, and was truly hardworking. She never shirked her responsibilities and we always had something productive to do.

And yet.

She liked to summarize novels as she passed them out. 

Visualize: My teacher begins to pass out a stack of copies of Lord of the Flies. She stands at her podium and says, “You’re going to need to know this. Piggy dies.”

Of course, I was appalled, furious, in full teenage revolt. During a following lecture, I placed my fingers in my ears and hummed softly. When she (very reasonably) asked me what I thought I was doing, I told the truth. “I just don’t want to know what happens before I read the book.”

I don’t remember her response, but she may have countered with, “I want the major plot points to stick with you so that the rest of your life you’ll remember what happened in Lord of the Flies, and understand any reference to it.”

And since I’ve forgotten everything that happens in Lord of the Flies besides Piggy’s death and deus ex machina, maybe reasonable people can disagree.

Maybe.

You know you have stories like this. Stories of the first time you read Anne of Green Gables or The Giver or The Secret Garden. Stories of getting lost in an assigned Dickens novel that you foolishly thought was going to be boring because it was a “classic.” Did you think you hated books until you read Ender’s Game?

My children have never felt closer to their Uncle Johnny than when reading the Harry Potter series. They, who rarely have to wait for anything to read, loved imagining him standing in line in the middle of the night for the release of the next book. 

Or maybe you have stories of where you liked to read. I favored climbing into the top cabinet in our bathroom with a flashlight, but, again, eccentricities.

Did you have a favorite teacher who read aloud to your class? I will never forget sobbing through Number the Stars with dear Mrs. Pierce and our sixth grade class. Or reading Pink and Say with Mrs. Vincent. Or the many, many plays we read in the round with the brilliant Mrs. Jackson.

Did a story change you? Did reading The Chronicles of Narnia make you believe in God or did His Dark Materials make you doubt? Did a novel alert you to your own goodness or cruelty? Did it help you forgive? Did Marie Kondo make you tidy your closets?

Still stretching for stories beyond I-liked-this-book-when-I-was-your-age? How did you access your books? Bookstore, library, classroom, generous neighbor? Remember those monthly scholastic book order forms? How about Baby-Sitters Club subscriptions (maybe that was just me)?

Do you remember your library? Our elementary school library had a reading bathtub in the center of it, stuffed with pillows (I’m not even kidding). Even things you think may be boring (card catalogues, for example) may intrigue your kids (how did you put books on hold before computers?).

Sharing your reading heritage with your child can make what is already the best part of parenting (reading with them!) an even deeper source of connection.

Your stories are there. Just start talking.

 

I love The Hunger Games for the characters, for how real they are from the first chapter. I sob in the earliest pages of The Hunger Games, the period when usually, in most novels, I’m still getting acquainted with the protagonist and have very little emotional investment. (Pro tip: The audiobook version is terrible. Please read this one on paper.)

 

Lord of the Flies – You’re going to need to know this . . .

 

Aslan will always give me chills, no matter how many times I’ve read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. “‘Course he isn’t safe.”

 

Another favorite from Uncle Johnny, so glad to know Lyra and Will.

 

Little Women

 

The Charles Dickens Collection

 

Didn’t really expect to juxtapose The Baby-Sitters Club and Dickens in a post, but . . .

 

In case you’re itching to read “The Tell-Tale Heart” again

 

Anne with an e

 

The Giver by Lois Lowry

 

The Secret Garden

My husband couldn’t wait to read this one to our son. 

 

Happy reading!

A friend recently asked me if audiobooks “count.”

If by count, you mean are they the best gift to always-optimizing, hyper-scheduled human beings, that they make drugery magical and car rides infinitely more enjoyable, that they are the greatest technological advance of all time, then . . .

YES.

(Okay, no, that last bit is hyperbole, but it feels true.)

There seem to be many people who “love to read” but haven’t read since childhood, grown-ups who remember the March family antics better than their own, but can’t remember the last time they read anything they couldn’t scroll through while waiting in line at a food cart (this is Portland we’re talking about).

I read eighty-three books last year, and that clearly isn’t because my life allows for lots of lounging in the hammock. You, too, can read more than a book a week and – this is the magical bit – without changing one thing on your schedule. Here’s what you need to know:

Getting the Audiobooks

If you’re willing to spend some money to make the process a breeze, subscriptions like Scribd or Audible provide audiobooks on your smartphone, making access incredibly easy. I prefer Scribd because there are no limits, but I honestly don’t use either service unless someone gifts it to me for a holiday, because I’m incredibly cheap.

If you, too, want to pay zero dollars for your fun, the library is your friend. Most libraries have an app for your smartphone (our county uses Libby). You should immediately fill up your holds with books you are interested in reading. Every time you hear of a title you’d like to read, put it on hold. When you pick up your phone to scroll through Instagram, tap the library app first and put a few titles on hold. By using this system, you will always have books arriving in your loans category and will be able to choose what you feel like reading and won’t have to wait on a hold request.

If you’re a little more old-school, just check out audio CDs at the library. They’re easy and safe for kids to use (no web browsing to tempt or distract), and in our many years of checking out audiobook discs, we’ve only had one that was too scratched to play.

When to Listen

The list is truly endless here. I read my own books during any task that doesn’t require headspace: dishes, laundry, making the bed, chopping vegetables. Just wait. You will actually be thrilled to clean your bathroom when the latest Ann Patchett novel pops up in your loans.

Don’t forget the car. Oh my goodness, the car. When my kids are tired and cranky from the crazy extroverted environment that is school, they are more likely than not going to fight over something ridiculous, like the fact that one must have known the other was thinking of picking up that book or that the other is singing a song that is too scary (i.e., in a minor key). The solution to all your car woes is to turn on one of the Harry Potter books and let J.K. Rowling solve your problems. No parenting necessary.

My kids also listen while building LEGO sets, having a snack, getting ready for bed. If you are listening as a family at home, I highly recommend getting a small, portable speaker to connect to your phone or laptop, to avoid the inevitable, “Shh!! I can’t hear!!”

Bonus Benefits

In The Read-Aloud Family, Sarah Mackenzie shares the story of a woman who says that C.S. Lewis’s Aslan will always have the voice of her father. I love that idea, that my kids will hear my voice when they think of Jo March or Anne Shirley. At the same time, I also recognize that Jim Dale’s Hagrid sounds a lot more like a half-giant than my version. If you have any self-conscious feelings about reading aloud to your child, whether because English isn’t your first language or because you feel silly doing voices or just because you’re tired, audiobooks are ideal, especially if you listen alongside your child.

You may think your read-aloud days are done the second your child reads her first Elephant and Piggie book, but it’s really not true. My husband and I are grown-ups (mostly) and we still read to each other; we’re in the middle of Mistborn right now. We feel very strongly about never aging out, and audiobooks are the perfect bridge to keep the read-aloud spirit alive in your family.  If your tweens cringe at the thought of being read to, they may not object to listening to an audiobook in the car. Or, well, even if they do, you can say it’s just for you and wait for them to get sucked in.

Below are a few of our favorite audiobooks. Enjoy and happy listening!

 

If you’re listening to Palacio’s Wonder in the car, make sure you have tissues. And maybe skip the mascara that day.

 

Stockard Channing and Neil Patrick Harris are practically family at this point, thanks to years of listening to them read The Ramona Quimby Audio Collection and The Henry Huggins Audio Collection. 

 

Jessica Almasy sounds exactly like Clementine. Lots of giggles as we listened to this one.

 

Tom Hanks reading Ann Patchett. TOM HANKS reading ANN PATCHETT! What are you waiting for?

 

Jim Dale has been our constant companion over the past few months. I think the entire Asby family is going to mourn when we finish Book Seven.

 

Enjoy!

 

Here’s hoping your holidays are absolutely booked this year. Merry Christmas from the Asbys.

 

When my son was in preschool, I was eating brownies with a bunch of moms, listening to them chat about the verbal acrobatics required to keep the magic of Santa a reality in their house. Oh, look what you found! Santa must have made an early delivery! No, Santa’s not watching you sleep, that’s just a silly song. Of course you’re not naughtier than Emma! Santa brought her that giant swing-set to share with nice friends like you.

They asked me how I handle tricky Santa questions with my son, and I said, “Oh, he knows Santa is pretend.”

[Silence.]

Maybe you are feeling as shocked as my friends looked in that moment, but reader, let me assure you, the kids are all right.

With my son, he asked point blank if Santa was real or pretend and we answered honestly because that felt right to us. We are considerate magic-breakers, though, so we told him it would ruin the fun of the pretend if he told friends, “Santa’s actually not real.” He played it cool.

With my (not so quiet) daughter it was a little trickier. She got a modified version: “We [as in, the parents] don’t believe in Santa, but we can’t prove he doesn’t exist. If he only comes to those who believe, then how would we know?”

My son decided this was interesting and wanted to set up an experiment. I mean, you can’t just take your parents’ word for it, right?

They left cookies out for Santa and made us promise not to eat them. I was worried they would be disappointed on Christmas (we were going to keep our no-cookie promise), so they decided that if the cookies were still there in the morning, they could eat them when they woke. Win, win.

Despite the fact that we are shameful Santa heretics, we really do LOVE reading about Santa. I get chill bumps every time I read The Polar Express, and today when my seven-year-old walked in and saw all the wrapped presents under the tree (I was a busy elf today), she said, “Santa came early! [Then stage whispered] I know he’s not real, I just like to pretend.”

The following are lovely read-alouds, whatever your feelings about Ol’ Saint Nick.

Because it’s magical every time. 

 

Everything by William Joyce is an adventure, and Santa Calls is no exception.

 

Baum’s The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus is a longer read, perfect for big fans.

 

Here Comes Santa Cat is as delightfully silly as it sounds.

 

Even more silliness in The Day Santa Stopped Believing in Harold. 

 

Santa from Cincinnati is a coming of age story for the boy who would become everyone’s favorite gift-giver.

 

And for your favorite little bear, check out Where Teddy Bears Come From

 

And Welcome Comfort by Patricia Polacco to tug at your heartstrings

 

Happy Reading and Merry Christmas!

Happy YES day from the Asby family, where our family of four celebrates three birthdays this week.

But wait – YES Day?

YES Day is the one and only day of the year, when the answer to every request is an enthusiastic YES.

May I have birthday cake for breakfast? YES.

May I wear pajamas all day long? YES.

May I play video games for four hours straight without even a side-eye of disapproval from my mother?? YES.

We have Amy Krouse Rosenthal and Tom Lichtenheld to thank for our family birthday tradition of YES Day, and we will never go back.

Now, lest you think you will have to hand over the car keys to your ten-year-old on YES Day, let me share a few ground rules:

1. Requests must be reasonable (relatively, anyway).
2. Requests must not hurt another person (“Please can you make my sister eat the vomit-flavored jelly bean?” would be promptly vetoed)
3. Requests must live entirely within the current day (you can’t ask for permission for a sleepover next month or a raise on your allowance)
4. Requests that involve money must not be extravagant (you could ask to eat lunch at Boxer Ramen, but not for that $400 Harry Potter LEGO set).
5. YES Day ends at your regularly scheduled bedtime.

You may adjust the rules for your family, perhaps creating a firm budget that your child may spend however they like. We allow requests that require a little prep work; my son wanted a homemade cake and a scavenger hunt* to find his presents (see photo above; it was spectacular!), both of which we prepared beforehand, but you don’t have to do that. If you’re afraid that your kid will be sad to have missed a traditional party, remind them that they can have friends over on YES Day, and even sing “Happy Birthday” and eat cake. I like this glorified play-date version of a party, because I don’t have to clean my house or be in party-mode, and the birthday kid still gets to be with friends and feel celebrated.

I see your skeptical face, reader, but let me tell you that every parent I’ve known to try out a YES Day has been astounded by how ordinary the requests are. It seems that simply having an entire day of not being told what to do, of finally getting to hop into the driver’s seat (metaphorically speaking!!!) is pretty priceless.

Whether you go YES Day or traditional party (or both!), the following reads pair well with cake and ice cream.

Happy reading and happiest of birthdays to you all!

Of course, Yes Day, which started it all.

 

When Grandma Gives You a Lemon Tree is hilarious and charming and manages to teach without being preachy at all.

 

Ten Rules of the Birthday Wish makes me feel like we maybe need Ten Rules of the Perfect YES Day . . . 

 

When’s My Birthday has the names of Julie Fogliano and Christian Robinson on the cover. Enough said.

 

Of course, there is Seuss. “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”

 

And for the perfect gift for that one-year-old who has everything, try Amy Krouse Rosenthal’s Your Birthday Book, complete with exclusive interviews to be completed in later years.

Enjoy!

 

*Many thanks for the clues that came from or were inspired by QuickHunts.com!

This post isn’t going to be as heavy as it sounds.

It also contains serious Little Women spoilers, so if you haven’t read that most cozy of classics, please stop reading this post, grab a few pickled limes (you know you have some handy) and read Little Women right now before someone ruins it for you.

(And read it in time for Christmas when the new film adaptation comes out!)

My husband somehow made it to college without reading Little Women (poor soul), despite the fact that his high school sweetheart was named after two of the sisters (Megan Elizabeth here, nice to meet you). He and I have always loved reading aloud together, even before we had tiny Asbys, and as soon as I realized the giant hole in his literary experience, we added Little Women to the top of the read-aloud list.

All this to say . . .

(Spoiler Alert!)

Marcus and I were sitting inside his red Grand Prix (I’m still so nostalgic about that car) between classes, reading about the first time Beth gets sick. Once Marcus knew for sure she was going to make it through, he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, “I was really going to hate this book if Beth died.”

Um…yeah, well.

In the end, Marcus didn’t hate the book. To be honest, he was probably afraid I wouldn’t marry him if he did. And anyway, his favorite character in any novel or movie or miniseries is always the Beth character, and she always dies. He’s had to get used to it.

I’m speaking lightly, but death, real death, isn’t light, and it can be hard to know how to talk about it, especially with children.

I do talk to my kids about death. I talk to them about everything, really, and I’m sure I’m blundering massively along the way. Nevertheless, I fall firmly into the let’s-talk-about-it camp, and I’m in good company I think (check out Mr. Roger’s “Death of a Goldfish” episode, which – full disclosure – I haven’t actually seen, only read about). I believe that it is possible to talk about death with children in a way that is honest without being overwhelming.

The following are titles that have made it easier for me to talk to my sweet boy and girl about the reality of life and death and loss. Do preview them before sharing with your children, as some of them are heavier than others. And have a box of tissues handy, if only to signal that it is okay and important to cry.

 

Of course Margaret Wise Brown knew that kids want to talk about death. Beautifully illustrated by Christian Robinson, The Dead Bird follows a group of children who find a dead bird and hold a ceremony to honor it. My children asked to read this over and over when they were younger.

 

Ida, Always is the first book that comes to mind when I hear a child has experienced a loss. This one feels pretty close to perfect to me.

 

Rosie & Crayon is about the death of and grief over a beloved pet.

 

Aunt Mary’s Rose tells the true story of one family’s loss and love through generations.

 

Grandpa’s Stories is poetically written and beautifully illustrated and is “for everyone who misses someone.”

 

My Big Dumb Invisible Dragon and  Maybe Tomorrow? tackle the grief that children carry after loss. And Oliver Jeffers does the same in:

 

The Heart and the Bottle

 

Her Mother’s Face explores loss when the memories of the loved one are few because the time together was short.

 

I almost didn’t check out Cry, Heart, But Never Break, because the cover felt a little too scary. I couldn’t resist the title, though, and it is more gentle than the cloaked representation of death would suggest.

 

Finn’s Feather is about a child whose brother has died. It manages to be both deeply sad and uplifting.

 

Walk With Me is imaginative and poignant and explores a complicated grief exacerbated by poverty.

 

For a graphic novel that explores loss, check out Pilu of the Woods.

 

Imaginative, dream-like, A Ladder to the Stars is fantasy, and as such, can invite some questions that a more literal book may not.

 

The Purple Balloon by Chis Raschka is inspired by children drawing purple balloons as they approach their tragically early deaths.

 

Boats for Papa describes a child who makes boats and sends them to his Papa, lost at sea. The Pond is another book about creating something to honor a father.

 

The boy in The Scar has lost his mother and is desperate to hold on to anything that will keep her memory present with him.

 

And What Comes After a Thousand is a celebration of relationship, first and foremost.

 

Where the Red Fern Grows is one of many chapter books that addresses death and grief, but it was the first (after Little Women) that I thought of for this post, in part because I could hardly get the words out through my sobs when I read it to my son, and since he too rarely sees me cry it felt very important in our family’s story. There are thousands of chapter books that deal with death and loss, of pets, family members, friends and strangers. My children are still young and we have barely scratched the surface of the chapter book world, so please share in the comments the novels that have helped you or your children think about death and grief and life with loss. I would love to hear from you.

Hugs from the Asbys.

 

 

My children are acutely aware of my personal failings, and (in their opinion) chief among them is my laissez-faire attitude about decorating for the holidays, specifically Halloween.

In my defense, isn’t Halloween sort of awesome all by itself? Don’t other people do enough to made the day special without my interference? Look at that spooky yard across the street with all the gravestones! What about that house with eighteen carved pumpkins elevated on stakes? And their school even has a costume parade which makes me feel like my children live in a Beverly Cleary novel.

With all that effort being expended, I feel pretty good about the two things I manage to do every year: 1. Carve a pumpkin (okay, my husband and kids always do that, but I buy it), and 2. Purchase costumes and take the kids trick-or-treating.

This year I decided to surprise those monkeys and decorate one day while they were at school. Yes, this was in part because I got to the library early and it wasn’t open yet, and YES, Target is just across the street, so I thought I might as well pop over and buy some of that incredibly wasteful stretchy spiderweb so my children would love me again.

And oh, they did. You would have thought I had spun the web myself.

If life were fair, my children would also note that they have read the absolute BEST spooky books, thanks to the valiant efforts of their superhero book-master mother. But I suppose books at this point feel like a given.

Happy reading and Happy Halloween!!

(Because we Asbys are total wimps, this list doesn’t include Coraline or, you know, anything by Stephen King. If you prefer scary over spooky, you’ll have to look elsewhere.) 

 

The Widow’s Broom is the book that made me decide to write this post. I get spooky chills every time.

 

The Bake Shop Ghost is long but lovely. I heard a librarian read it to a large group of sugared-up Halloweeners and (even though I love it!) I thought, “There is no way they’re going to make it through this entire book,” but I was absolutely wrong. Never doubt a children’s librarian.

 

The Spider and the Fly is a poem I remember reading again and again as a kid. While I felt mostly nostalgia, my children found this one very scary. They kept shouting, “No!” and I think felt really outraged at the end. The illustrations are perfectly terrifying in this one.

 

Zen Ghosts is another soothing delight from Jon J Muth.

 

She Made a Monster  has one truly scary page, but if your kids can handle it, it’s a beautiful read.

Frankenstein Takes the Cake and Frankenstein Makes a Sandwich marry silly and spooky in two volumes of poetry and fun.

What There is Before There is Anything There is a thoughtful and beautiful, like everything I’ve read by Liniers.

 

The Dark – Snicket and Klassen. Enough said.

Creepy Carrots is both funny and just scary enough to delight.

Leo: A Ghost Story is about friendship and kindness and inclusion, so obviously I love it.

 

There’s No Such Thing as Ghosts! Right??

 

Spooky Old Tree, a classic!

 

How to Make Friends with a Ghost is a cheerful not-scary-at-all read for the anti-fear crowd.

 

For the littlest spooks, try Ghost in the House

 

Now put these on hold at your library and plop down by a bowlful of candy!