Why Libraries Matter

This video is so beautiful and really spoke to my heart.  I so love libraries, and truly believe they are one of the most essential institutions in our society.

To quote Maya Angelou, "When it looked like the sun wasn’t gonna shine any more, God put a rainbow in the clouds. A library is a rainbow in the cloud."


And I thank God for libraries!

We NEED Diverse Books

So, what I love most on this earth would probably be these two guys:

And their Daddy (and their angel brother).  

And it's no secret that another thing right at the top of my list is BOOKS.

Of course, this means that sharing books that I love with the kiddos that I love is probably the closest thing to heaven on earth for me.

Except... that it's pretty painful to realize that precious few of the children in the books I've shared with them feature children that look like them.  Almost none of the characters in the books they read have families like ours.  And even when there are characters who look like them, or their Daddy, those characters are often in the background.  They don't often get to do the exciting things.  Those characters are rarely telling the story.  Those stories told are rarely as wacky or hilarious as my boys. I think that needs to change.

I think it's time for the books that children read to reflect the beautiful diversity I see in their faces, and in the faces of Kiddo's classmates and friends.  They've spent the majority of their lives in the least diverse states in America, although we've generally lived in those towns which are more diverse than the rest of those states (gotta love college towns!).  For the last two years, I've read to children at Kiddo's school twice a month.  These children arrive early to school, either because they ride the bus to school and/or eat breakfast at school.  At least a third to a half of these children are not Caucasian.  Some are black, some are Native American, some are Hispanic, some are Asian, some have multi-ethnic backgrounds, some are from immigrant families. A few little girls wear head coverings.  At least one child has Down's Syndrome.  I soon realized that the children in my audience loved the books I brought, but that those books more often featured bunnies or pigs than characters who looked like them.  I've tried really, really hard to share books with them that will make them laugh, or inspire them, or spark their creativity.  I've never brought a sad story, or one that I thought would require a history lesson-- although I think those stories are absolutely necessary and worthwhile.  They just aren't well-suited to a light-hearted start to their day from a lady most of them only know as Kiddo's Mom.  And I have to say, it's disheartening and difficult to find books that both fit that criteria and also feature diverse casts of human characters. I just don't think it should be that way.

So I add my voice to the chorus:  We NEED diverse books!

We need diverse books because all children should see themselves in a book.

We need diverse books because these guys deserve to be the heroes, and not just the sidekick!

We need diverse books because I've been collecting bookcases full of stories for my children, since long before they were born, and I now realize that we could most likely fit the books prominently featuring children of color as protagonists on ONE SHELF. Although I think the books we have accumulated are wonderful, quality books, I clearly have not done a great job of purchasing books that reflect how much I value diversity.  But that's at least partly because those books are harder to find, especially when one mainly shops for books second-hand at thrift stores, garage sales, or library book sales.

So I've resolved to do MY part. I want our bookshelves to not just provide windows to another world, but also mirrors of the beauty in these guys' lives.  Please join me, and do your part to support diversity in children's literature.  Because, truly, we all need diverse books.

On Reading and Letting Go

The picture on the left is of my Grandma Kinney, my Mommy and me. I have very few pictures of my Grandma & me together which is sad, especially because she was one of the most influential people in my life. This picture was taken in her living room, and one thing you can't see in this photo is that one wall of that room was covered with gorgeous floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that my Grandfather built. There are many things that I loved about my grandparents' home-- I dream more often that I am there than any other place in the world-- but the sight of those beautiful bookshelves full of books is one of the images I love the most.

My grandmother was an avid reader. She ALWAYS had a book to read. Always. She even followed the Library's new book lists in the newspaper, and would call the Library to place her name on hold lists (this was many years before we had the ability to do such things via computer!) so that she wouldn't miss out on a new title. She is the reason I like dictionaries so much and feel like I have to look up words to make sure I have the precise definition before I explain them to Kiddo, or even use them on Facebook! So I think she liked that I had inherited the bookworm gene and rarely arrived at her house without a book of my own to read.

Grandma spoke several times to me of the classics she loved as a child, with such reverence and enthusiasm. Many times I heard about how exciting Treasure Island and Kidnapped were, or how charming The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew was. Yet the only of her favorites that I can recall her successfully convincing me to read was Heidi-- and that may have just been because I'd seen the Shirley Temple movie and was curious to see if the filmmakers had butchered adapted that story as badly as A Little Princess. Instead, she probably saw a parade of Baby-Sitters' Club, Sweet Valley, and other mass-produced series books coming in and out of her doors-- not that those were the only books I read, but the sheer number of them would have made it seem that way. So along with the joy in seeing me love to read, there was some disappointment that I didn't take her advice -- or at least some bewilderment-- and that I wouldn't share her love for her favorite tales.

Fast-forward several years. The photo on the right is of course, of Kiddo and me- at his school for a Read Every Day event last year. For the first five or six years of his life, he and I shared countless joyful hours of reading together. I could pick nearly any title and, if I shared it with him, he usually enjoyed it. But for the last year or so.... well, I guess you could say Kiddo and I butt heads a lot, particularly about the issue of reading. This beautiful, brilliant boy who learned to read fluently and independently earlier than anyone I'd ever met started telling me, "I hate reading." "Reading is boring." Even though he still wants me to read at bedtime, he's gradually gotten much pickier about what I read to him. Then we started hearing, "I'll ONLY read Basketball books" and "You can't make me read THAT." There were tears and arguments over completing Fluency reading assignments. And last week, this Mommy had a horrible meltdown before bedtime. After Kiddo fell asleep, I found myself in shock. How could *this* boy have stopped loving to read? And how could *I* have a child whose heart did not fill with joy when given the admonition to "Go read a book?" Am I really going to be able to handle it if any of my children really DO end up hating reading?

The next morning Kiddo woke up exceedingly early and went downstairs to our "Study room," where most of our Chapter books reside. From the shelves, he selected Diary of a Wimpy Kid, which he had begged for nearly a year ago but later refused to finish. He came back upstairs, sat down at the table, opened his book, and started to read to me. He read for half an hour. And then, every day for 5 days, he voluntarily brought the book to me and read to me more. On Monday, he finished it. Several times in the past week, he's told me how much he enjoyed this book, how funny it is, and how he wants to keep reading the series. Today we went to the bookstore, and he asked for not just the 2nd Wimpy Kid book, but also some Puppy Place books. Excited about his renewed enthusiasm, I ignored that the additional titles are well below his reading level, and maybe not "Great Literature," and gladly purchased them for him.

As we returned home, I thought of my Grandmother, and how much she wanted me to read the books that she loved, but how she accepted that I was content to read the books *I* chose, regardless of their perceived "literary merits." I thought of the conversation Kiddo and I had earlier this week about how important it is to find the right books FOR YOU, the books that will capture YOUR interest and inspire you-- even if they're not the books that someone who loves you very much feels *certain* you'll enjoy if only you'll *give it a try.* And I thought, "Okay, Grandma. I get it now. I think I know what you must have been feeling all those years ago."

So even though we didn't emerge from the bookstore with a bag full of Newbery winners, and even though my collections of Beverly Cleary or Kate diCamillo books sit on the shelf unread for now, I am happy. I am satisfied that my Kiddo does still enjoy time spent with a book, that he still wants to read, and that he does not, in fact HATE books. And I am letting go of my expectations of WHAT he should/must/will read, in hopes that he too, will gain the lifelong satisfaction that comes from immersing himself in a book.

And I remember that five years ago, I finally did read Treasure Island-- sadly, too late to discuss it with Grandma, but instead, in loving memory of her, and all that she did for me, all that she taught me. Perhaps someday, Kiddo might do the same.

Back in the Saddle Again???

It's ME (and Little Friend ;) )!!! I've been thinking for several months now that I NEED to get back to blogging.  I don't know that anyone has actually missed my blog. I never had very many readers. But I haven't kept a journal in years-- I've tried to keep notebooks with lists or random thoughts or cute stories of the kids but I'm not consistent at all, and my house is such a mess that I have something like 3 of them hidden around the house and can't find them when I want them.  I'm also finding that as I age my once borderline-amazing memory is becoming borderline-craptastic.  And I have these adorable, hilarious kids whose lives just beg to be documented! ;)

I mean, look at that face. Really.

Look at that little charmer.  I can't believe he's been two for over four months now.  How did that happen so fast? He has become SUCH an independent little fellow, and is developing the most wonderful vocabulary.  Several times a day I just have to chuckle at the things he says.

We had such a long winter up here in the Great White Northern Tundra that Little Friend had a hard time getting used to the idea that he no longer needs to wear a winter hat.  These pictures were taken in the beginning of MAY! It's now JUNE and he still asked me this week where his Snoopy hat is.  In all fairness, it was probably only about 60 degrees when he asked, and it does get extremely windy here.  But still...

Whenever we go to the park, it always strikes me how independent he is, and how different he and Kiddo are at this age.  Little Friend rarely asks for help and is completely undaunted by lots of steps or tall slides. 

He LOVES to be outside, and I think he would take off without me and leave the house on a regular basis if it weren't for the fact that he is very fussy about his feet.  The good news about that is that he won't ever go outside without shoes. So as long as I remember not to let him wear his shoes around the house, I think I can keep him inside until I'm ready to go out too.  I don't know what I'll do once he can get his shoes on by himself...

We have been really glad that we live close to TWO parks here.  This one is really quite nice.  The other one... well... not so much.  The equipment is great, the location is good, but the kids who play there do not pick up after themselves.  Additionally, somehow the big, heavy trash can was removed by some pranksters and I hear it "blew away." The city still hasn't replaced it.  So it's a mess these days.  I had plans to take some gloves and my own trash bag and clean it up myself on Isaac's birthday, but we got busy and I haven't done it.  I'm curious how long it would stay clean.  But I digress.  That's a whole other post in itself.

  

And I can't forget THIS handsome guy.  Doesn't he look so grown up? I can't believe he's almost SEVEN.  He is getting so tall and lanky, and acts like a teenager half the time.  He absolutely loved the long, long winter and was reluctant to give it up for the Spring.  According to him, he "hates" Spring, and only likes Summer and Winter.  However, I don't hear him complain at all when it's time to go to the park, or to play outside.  And he sure didn't mind when he didn't have to drag a bag of snow clothes with him every day to school anymore.  

He finally lost his third tooth.  Oddly, it was another bottom tooth.  His top teeth don't even seem wiggly.  When he lost the first two, the adult teeth were already growing in behind the baby teeth, so this is the first time he's experienced the sensation of having a "window" or gap where that tooth once was.

 This Spring, Kiddo has been ALL about sports.  We don't get any channels, which I mostly really like, but he'd been begging to watch some sports.  After attending a women's college basketball game, he decided that basketball is super-exciting and was always asking to watch replays on ESPN-3 online.  Imagine his shock, when halfway through the NCAA tournament, he discovered that we'd NEVER told him about this most wonderful event.  He watched as much as we'd let him of the last 2 weeks and I am amazed at how many players and teams he learned about.  Knowing how intense he is with his interests, I guess it shouldn't surprise me.  Yet somehow it always does!  Next year I imagine it will TRULY be March Madness in our home as Kiddo has plans to watch every.single.game.  And guess which old & forgetful lady who will have to learn & actually remember enough to converse with him about all of these games?

Kiddo also had his first experience with team sports in May.  We signed him up for Spring Soccer, which was to have started in the beginning of April.  Because of all the snow refusing to melt, it didn't start until the first of May! It was kind of a rough experience for Kiddo, as he isn't used to having to work hard to learn something new.  But I think overall it was valuable for him, and due to the shortened season, the Parks department is letting all the kids who signed up for Spring do Fall Soccer for free.  He & Daddy have been playing outside more now that it's warmed up, and hopefully in the fall he'll be more prepared.  But again, that's a whole other post that's just waiting to be written.  At his request, I took A LOT of pictures.  I'm supposed to make a highlights video for him, you know... He really is TOO MUCH.

Along with playing soccer, Kiddo has decided to learn about the British/English Premiere League, which is pretty much his father's favorite thing EVER.  It is fun and listen to them talk about teams and players together.  I told Daddy-O that this must be the moment he's been waiting for his whole life... to finally have a son old enough to appreciate his favorite hobby-- the son who was born right in the middle of the World Cup, no less.  I think it will be so fun to see them watching together when the season starts up again in August.

 

My Little Monster

Little Friend has quite the personality.  He is always making us laugh. Here's just one of the many reasons why!

Brian Regan- Greeting Cards

Life has been pretty stressful lately, and it seems like I haven't done much laughing.  But this cracked me up.  And I think I could actually use some of those "Old Baby" cards, since I've gotten so bad at sending anything on time any more.  Anyway, enjoy!

Celebrity Lookalikes: Little Friend Edition

 

When Little Friend woke up from his nap this afternoon, I couldn't help but laugh.  One of my nicknames for him from the time he was a teeny baby is Chief Crazy Hair.  Today his crazy hair put me in mind of a certain "celebrity."  Just add glasses, a suit, and a mustache,  and you'd have Baby Don King! ;)

Sunday Best

I made Little Friend wear a clip-on tie to Church on Mother's Day.  He wasn't very thrilled about it, and tried repeatedly to pull it off.  But he looked SO darling I just wouldn't let him.  Mean Mommy.

I am a Nursery worker, so even though Little Friend isn't technically old enough to be in Nursery until the end of July, he usually spends at least half of the time in there with us.  He really enjoys himself, particularly when the treats come out.  But seeing him sit in a big-boy chair, wearing big-boy clothes, makes me realize just how fast he's growing up.  Sometimes I just stare at that perfect little face and want to freeze time.
 

Isn't he just THE CUTEST little person?  It's hard to believe sometimes that he's really MINE. Love, love, love that boy.

Today's the Day

 

As I sit here, awake in these wee hours of the morning, I am reminded of where I was at this time three years ago.  I remember waking up a little after midnight with what I was pretty sure were actually contractions and wondering if this would be the day I'd meet my son.  

I remember timing my contractions in our dark, quiet room while my husband slept.  I remember having to wake him up a few times because in his sleepy fog, he didn't quite grasp that my contractions were already only three minutes apart.  I remember my husband having to wake our new neighbors at almost 3:00 in the morning to ask if they could stay with Kiddo.  

I've mostly forgotten the drive to the hospital, but I remember entering the hospital with fairly intense contractions that just kept getting closer and closer together.  I remember being wheeled upstairs to the maternity ward, having to answer lots of questions in one room (and hadn't I pre-registered? So, why all the questions?) and then being told I still had to walk down the hall to my actual room.  I remember thinking that was just plain crazy, if not a little bit mean.  I remember deciding to stick with my choice to not have an epidural, but then asking for just a little nubain for the pain.  I remember that it didn't seem to help, but that suddenly my eyes wouldn't stay open-- not that I was falling asleep (that would have been impossible), but that my eyelids just kept closing no matter how hard I tried to open them and wondering if that was some weirdo kind of side effect.  

I remember being so glad that the incredibly kind midwife I'd seen at the very end of my pregnancy would be the one helping me deliver, and not the condescending doctor I'd seen earlier, or someone I'd never met.  I remember the nurses telling me to push and thinking that I just couldn't.  It was too difficult, I was too tired-- and yet, somehow, I did.  

  And then, oh then, I met the sweetest angel I've ever known.  He was plump and sweet and perfect, and we were so grateful, so very, very grateful. We couldn't have known then how short a time we'd have with this darling boy, or how awfully our hearts would break less than eight months later.

 

I have a friend whose son died at nearly six weeks old, about a year before Isaac passed away.  I remember reading a friend's posting on her blog that said, "The only thing worse than losing him would be never having had him at all."  When I first read that, Isaac was still with me and I didn't understand what she meant.  Now I do.  With all the pain and grief and sorrow that we've felt in these last two and a half years, it doesn't diminish the joy we felt to have Isaac in our lives.  As horrible as it has been to lose him, I would never want to know a life without those happy, beautiful months with the sweetest baby you could ever meet.  And we cling tightly to the hope that the joy we felt then will be nothing compared to the happiness we'll feel when, after this life, we can be with him again-- forever.

Today is a hard day.  I can't help but sob as I type these words.  I MISS HIM.  There is nothing like the ache of missing your child.  It is the deepest pain you can imagine.  I think of what he would be like at three, that he'd be talking and running and making us laugh.  I wonder if he'd look like Kiddo.  He was a go-getter of a baby, who seemed to do everything early and didn't seem to fear anything.  I imagined he'd be an athlete, but he was already trying to talk so I sensed that he was also going to be very intelligent.  And he was just happy, mellow, and peaceful.  Would he have stayed that way as a toddler?  Would he have liked the things his brother liked?  Would he be reading at the same amazingly early age?  I don't know, and the wondering hurts.

But today is also a glorious day.  It is the day my angel was born.  It was the day he brought brightness and hope into our lives.  And so, today we will once again celebrate his life.  We will honor him with kindness and service.   We will try to make him proud.  We imagine him looking on from heaven and smiling his incredible smile as he sees the good deeds done in his memory.  

  

Once again, many of our friends and family have pledged to do the same.  I hope you are one of them.  It's quite simple, really.  Just go out of your way to make someone else's day brighter.  Write a letter.  Forgive someone.  Share a treat.  Give someone a ride.  Mow someone else's lawn.  Visit someone who is sick or elderly.  Recycle.  Plant a tree.  Apologize to someone you've hurt.  Call your mother.  Say thank you.  Offer to babysit for free.  Share your talents.  Pick up litter.  Go to Church/the Temple/synagogue/mosque.  Decide not to argue with someone.  Give a book to a child.  Give hugs.  Donate to a charity.  And hold your children close.  Tell them how much you love them and how glad you are they're yours.

 And think of Isaac, because today is the day.

***If you would like to make a donation in Isaac's memory, there are many, many organizations we love like Heifer International, LDS Humanitatian Services, The Ronald McDonald House, and others which are linked on the sidebar-- and, of course, there's always your local library.  In particular this year, we support The Cure Starts Now http://csn.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.participant&eventID=605&participantID=1106  in honor of Oliver Palmer.  Also, our dear friends, Tara & Aaron are  building a LIBRARY in LESOTHO!!

Dearest Isaac: You Are My Sunshine

In honor of Isaac's third birthday, I've finally created some videos with photos of our beautiful angel boy.  If you watch them in order, you'll see how he grew-- not just taller, stronger, and plumpier, but also brighter and more adorable.  He truly brought us joy each and every day.

Mr. Independent

One thing we are definitely noticing about our Little Friend as he grows up (he's 15 months now) is that he watches just about EVERYTHING so that he can turn around and attempt to do it himself.  In nothing is this more noticeable than in finding himself some food.  Before he was a year old, he figured out which cupboard held the formula and baby food, and starting pulling them out (it's a bottom cupboard, right at his level) and handing them to me when he was hungry.
But lately, he seems to think he doesn't even need to "ask" me to serve him.  One Sunday before Church, he toddled out to the kitchen, pulled the Cheerios off the table, brought them into the Family room and dumped them right out on the floor and started eating!

For our anniversary, we ordered from the "Chinese take-away" (had to say it that way to sound like Hyacinth Bucket! ;) ).  Our Kiddo won't even TOUCH our Chinese food because it has BROCCOLI ("EWWW!"), but Little Friend proved to be quite his opposite.  Not only did he love the bites I gave him the night we brought it home, he went crazy when I was eating the leftovers the next day until I shared.  And he was not happy when I told him it was all done.

Later in the day, we were playing in the living room when Little Friend suddenly and quietly disappeared. A moment later, he reappeared with the empty boxes from our Chinese food. He had opened the lid of the garbage can, fished them out, and brought them back out-- his face and t-shirt covered with tell-tale sauce!

"Was that wrong?  I don't understand..."
And yes, we do feed him regularly!  He is a deliciously plumpy 27+ pounds.  I guess the little guy just likes to do things for himself, silly baby! :)

Asimbonanga/Biko

Tonight, I was reminded of a favorite memory.  When Kiddo was a little toddler, we listened to a lot of the Soweto Gospel Choir.  He liked to sing along, too, even though he didn't know what the words meant.  At the same time, he was going through a phase when he didn't understand why we didn't sing more in Sacrament meeting at Church, or why he couldn't request songs.  One Sunday, he was restless and being a little noisy, but we managed to distract him somewhat for a while.  Then, during a particularly quiet moment, he belted out, "ASIMBONANGA!!"  Of course, with all the children in our Church, many Sacrament meetings are noisy, but I wonder how many have been interrupted by a two-year-old singing a South African civil rights song.  :) Anyway, watch this video and see the Soweto Gospel Choir's amazingly beautiful rendition.