Ingredients (books discussed):

• The Grandmother Doll
• When-I-was-A-Little-Girl
• Harriet, You’ll Drive Me Wild
• Sally Dog Little Undercover Agent
• Mrs. Goat and Her Seven Little Kids
• “Let’s Get a Pup!” said Kate

Suggested Side Dishes (related books):

• Jamela’s Dress
• Weird Parents
• Before I Was Your Mother
• The Stray Dog

Jump into Today’s Soup (feedback): Join the conversation by clicking the Comments link below or sending an email to justonemorebook@gmail.com.

Second Helpings (transcript of podcast):

When our first daughter was born, we received an album of children’s music entitled “Free to be.. You and Me” — an ambitious project spearheaded by actor Marlo Thomas twenty-five years earlier to break various stereotypes and to open children’s eyes, hearts and minds to the possibilities of a better world. One of the many concepts the album introduced was the idea that “Parents are People”. The song by the same name explained that every mom and dad was once a child and that parents have many abilities and jobs outside the home. I understood the importance of recognizing the humanity of one’s closest humans but, looking at my angelic newborn, I couldn’t foresee misunderstandings about my status as a fellow person.

Almost nine years and thousands of parental interactions later, the idea still seems far from radical but the need to introduce and reinforce the concept is now crystal clear. In fact, I would now see reason to add to the defining refrain “parents are people, people with children” several more phrases including: people with feelings, people with personalities, people with good days and bad days, people with strengths and weaknesses, people who struggle to make good decisions, people who make mistakes, people who experience conflicts and achievements. In short: Parents Are People.

In the thirty some years since this album was created, huge efforts have been made to help children understand themselves, their rights, their world and their feelings and to help equip them to deal with the feelings and actions of their siblings and peers. But, for the most part, little effort has been made to help children understand and interact with the people who happen to be their parents. Parents continue to be portrayed in children’s media as 2dimensional dispensers of privileges, consequences and humourous reactions. I think such representation wastes opportunities to understand, improve and learn from some of the most important relationships in a child’s young life.

Luckily, exceptions exist.

Today, we look at a “clump” of books that hint at the possibility that parents are people.

The Grandmother Doll (Alice L. Bartels and illustrated by Duscan Petricic; 2001 Annick Press) details the grouchy mother-daughter interactions on day X of flu-induced confinement. Both Katy and her mother “are having one of those days”, the kinds of day we’ve all had plenty of, but we so seldom see accurately portrayed in picture books. I love this book for its true-to-life snaps, stomps, glares and slams. The bulk of the story is in the magic that happens in Katy’s room, but, for me, the familiar grouchiness of mother, child and even the magical grandmother doll — and the mother’s visible relief (and do I detect guilt, or is that pure projection?) when her daughter is finally sleeping peacefully — are welcome slices of reality that can’t help but make us feel more at home in our own lives.

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Harriet, You’ll Drive Me Wild (Mem Fox, illustrated by Marla Frazee; 2003 Voyager Books) is another great example of honesty in parent portrayal. As her mother makes her way through the Saturday chores, little Harriet causes an escalating series of disasters, making her mother’s loving, calm and restrained reactions more and more difficult to achieve. Through effective body language and careful wording, this book does justice to the frustration, remorse, reflection and eventual relief on both sides of this explosive situation, without taking the temptingly typical comedic look at the frustrated parent. I believe this honest, sympathetic look at a common parent-child interaction helps children and the real adults who read to them understand and accept themselves, each other and their very important, very real relationships.

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When-I-was-A-Little-Girl (Rachna Gilmore, illustrated by Renne Benoit; 2006 Second Story Press) paints an honest, if humbling, picture of our sometimes less-than-honest memories of our pre-parent selves and the role these imagined memories play in coercing our children into better behaviour. “Oh, Lisabeth, you’re so picky!” begins this thought-provoking story, “When I was a little girl I ate everything I was given.” Then, magically, out of nowhere, Mom’s perfect former childhood self appears, setting unreachable standards and then, with the help of a grandmother’s memory, falling from grace. It’s not easy to decide who to root for, as this story dances in the grey areas of sympathy, honesty and even revenge and I love how it skillfully presents Lisabeth’s mother as parent, child, rival, victim and friend. Life and relationships can be complicated and this book demonstrates that complexity with honesty and with respect for its readers – providing some great laughs along the way.
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Then there are the flecks of honesty that shed tiny lights on real parents: the details that are not the focus of the story, but the honest, sometimes humourous backdrop: Twinkle Little’s mother sneaking chocolate before breakfast in Sally Dog Little Undercover Agent; the reference to Mrs Goat’s favourite beer in Mrs. Goat and Her Seven Little Kids; the piercings, funky clothing and believably messy household of Kate’s parents in “Let’s Get a Pup!” said Kate. Not nearly as many as I’d hope for, but I’m glad for every one.

Parents are people – pretty important people in most young peoples’ lives – and I think we can all benefit from regular reminders.

Thanks for listening. I’m Andrea Ross from the Just One More Book! Podcast and we’ve been Swimming in Literary Soup.

Today, in honour of Adoption Awareness Month, we look at a “clump” of four books that invite us to stop and think about our own ideas of family and to share those thoughts with the little people who have made our families possible.

Ingredients (books discussed):

• We Belong Together
• The Not-So-Only Child
• The Red Thread
• Mommy, Was Your Tummy Big?
  

Suggested Side Dishes (related books):

• I Love You Like Crazy Cakes
• Bringing Asha Home
• Tell Me Again About the Night I Was Born
• Every Year On Your Birthday
  
• The Family Book
  
• It’s Okay to be Different
• Wendy E. Betts has a great list of books on the topic of adoption here.

You can find more information about adoption at Moonrattles, an online community for tweens touched by adoption and fostering.Jump into Today’s Soup (feedback): Join the conversation by clicking the Comments link below or sending an email to justonemorebook@gmail.com.

Second Helpings (transcript of podcast):

My first little sister died at birth. I was 2. She lived less than 2 hours. Our world came crashing down. But it was the 1960’s and within a year, my parents were able to adopt a beautiful newborn baby girl: a sister for me and as much a part of the family as any of us.

When our little brother was eventually born and we were all old enough to torment each other, the rules of combat were clearly defined by our parents: David and I were NEVER to use Linda’s adoption as a weapon against her and Linda was free to remind us as often as she liked that:

• Linda cost $7, David and I were free;
• Linda was chosen, we were not; and
• Linda’s mother was likely “The Queen”.

And that was that.

Maybe our parents didn’t “get” the concept of family. Maybe they didn’t know how to articulate it. Or maybe they just never stopped to think about family: what it meant to us, and what it meant to them. I’m hoping not to repeat the mistake.

I believe stopping to think is important. I believe that taking the time to explain, explore and celebrate the things that matter to us not only helps our children understand their place in the world but helps us as adults to decide — or remember — what’s important to us, where we all fit and reminds us to act accordingly.

Today, in honour of Adoption Awareness Month, we look at a “clump” of four books that invite us to stop and think about our own ideas of family and to share those thoughts with the little people who have made our families possible.

We Belong Together (Todd Parr; 2007 Little, Brown and Company) explains, in extremely simple words and equally simple, boldly coloured pictures, why adults choose to share their lives with children. This refreshingly straightforward book is aimed at adoptive families but the simply stated reasons apply to any adult who has chosen to be part of a family. For me, this is an important book because, when the house is untidy, filled with bickering or just plain busy, it never hurts to be reminded of why we’re here.
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The Not-So-Only Child (Heather Jopling illustrated by Lauren Page Russell; 2006 Nickname Press) is a celebration of the many flavours of family. Full of anecdotes and eccentricities that curious children love and based on the actual family of its author, this wonderfully specific book describes the large and diverse family of a so-called “Only child” and reminds us that a family is not defined by the number, gender or source of its individuals but by the caring and commitment that connects them.
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The Red Thread (Grace Lin; 2007 Albert Whitman & Company.) presents, in the form of an engaging fairy tale, a keen visual metaphor for the invincible nature of true family ties. While the yearning parents in this adventure find the child they are drawn to in a small Asian village, the tangible parental bond illustrated in this beautiful story clearly applies to all loving families and, I believe, communicates much more effectively the love of a parent for a child than many of the standbies we’ve relied upon in the past.
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Mommy, Was Your Tummy Big? (Carolina Nadel; 2007 Moonkind Press) relays a reassuring exchange between a mother and child. In this case, the yearning parents are elephants who are united with their child through the dexterity of a doctor and a generous donor but the larger messages are clear: we longed for you, you are loved, we’re glad you’re here.

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As Todd Parr reminds us at the close of We Belong Together, “There are lots of different ways to make a family. It just takes love.”

Thanks for listening. I’m Andrea Ross from the Just One More Book! Podcast and we’ve been Swimming in Literary Soup.

Soup du Jour:

Today we look at a “clump” of three books that shed soft light on social fears.

Ingredients (books discussed):

• Albert
• Camilla’s New Hairdo
• Emily

Suggested Side Dishes (related books):

• Don’t Need Friends (Carolyn Crimi Illustrated by Lynn Munsinger; 1999 Random House)
• you can read more about social anxiety at www.ShyKids.com.

Join the conversation by clicking the Comments link below or sending an email to justonemorebook@gmail.com.

Second Helpings (transcript of podcast):

Temperatures are dropping, leaves are turning red and, where I live, front porches are filling up with skeletons, ghosts and spiderwebs. I love Hallowe’en.

No wait — I love the Hallowe’en season.

I love the books. I love the preparations. I love the way the anticipation pulls the community together. What I don’t love – what is absolute agony for me — is the main event. Trick-or-treating scares me stiff.

And it’s not the blood and gore, the safety issues or the dental bills – it’s the free-for-all of friendly interaction that scares me. I suffer from social anxiety so, for me, trick-or-treating is right up there on the scariness scale with mingling and small talk.

Serious social anxiety is a solitary scariness. It’s not easily recognized, accepted or understood. And, unlike the more fashionable first-day-of-school and going-to-the-doctor fears, it’s not easily represented children’s books.

Luckily, over time I have stumbled across a handful of books brave enough to tackle this topic. Today we look at a “clump” of three books that offer a peek into the world of social anxiety, where the basic need for companionship can be outweighed by noiseless, gnawing social fear.

Albert (Donna Jo Napoli Illustrated by Jim LaMarche; 2005 Harcourt Books) tells the tale of a wiry young man whose longing to leap into life is thwarted daily by nagging fears. Each morning he stands at his barred window and assesses the sounds, sights and sensations on the bustling street below him. Each morning the many pleasures that beckon him are squelched by the first hint of unpleasantness — and Albert returns to his solitude. Through magical circumstances that only great fables can provide, he is detained at his window by a family of cardinals. Forced to witness the textured ups and downs of the world around him, he learns (or decides) that although the outside world can be both beautiful and scary, it is worth the risk. This inspiring book captures, with softness and honesty, that tireless tussle between longing and fear and, although sudden and unrealistic, the magical cracking of Albert’s shell invites us to strive for and celebrate small, ongoing victories over social fear.
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Camilla’s New Hairdo (Tricia Tusa; 1991 Farrar, Straus and Giroux) presents a variation on the solitary life shaped by fear. Camilla is an eccentric older woman who confines herself to a tall doorless tower, happily styling and re-styling her Rapunzelesque hair. Only when a spunky young friend falls into her life does Camilla realize that — fear or no fear — watching life is far less thrilling than living life. Camilla’s resulting leap into life is literal — where Albert’s was figurative — and I love that both books use the flying metaphor to so effectively describe the dizzying effect of stepping into the sweeping expanse of social risk.
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Emily (Michael Bedard Illustrated by Barbara Cooney; 1992 Dell Dragonfly Books) is a fictional remembering of reclusive poet, Emily Dickinson. This gorgeously illustrated and beautifully told story reflects on the inexplicable magic and mystery of individual personalities and compares the obvious longing and odd, frightened, solitary behavior of the eccentric poet with the beauty and mystery of music, poetry and life. Emily’s obvious desire for and fondness of company, however limited her capacity to tolerate it, vividly demonstrates that fear of social interactions does not arise from unfriendliness or hard feelings. This stirring and inspiring book is full of sadness, intrigue and hope and leaves us with Emily’s own heartfelt words urging us to recognize and seize the heaven-like happiness in the world around us. It’s left to us to decide how.

These books give us three small, delicate windows into the world of social fears. I do hope you’ll tell me about others…

Thanks for listening. I’m Andrea Ross from the Just One More Book! Podcast and we’ve been Swimming in Literary Soup.

Soup du Jour:

Today we look at a “clump” of three books about longing for a dog.

Ingredients (books discussed):

• I Want a Dog
• Amigo
• The Outside Dog

Suggested Side Dishes (related books):

• How Smudge Came (Nan Gregory & Ron Lightburn; 1998 Red Deer Press)
• The Stray Dog (Marc Simont; 2003 Harper Collins)
• The Trouble with Tilly Trumble (Lynn Manuel & Diane Greenseid; 2006 Abrams Books )
• “Let’s Get a PUP!” said Kate (Bob Graham; 2003 Candlewick Press)
• A Very Unusual Dog (Dorothy Joan Harris & Kim LaFave; 2006 Scholastic)
• Hank and Fergus (Susin Nielsen-Fernlund & Louise-Andree Laliberte; 2003 Orca Books)
• The Hound from the Pound (Jessica Swaim & Jill McElmurry; 2007 Candlewick Press)

Jump into Today’s Soup (feedback):

Join the conversation by clicking the Comments link below or sending an email to justonemorebook@gmail.com.

Second Helpings (transcript of podcast):

Our first child was a dog — a spunky border collie/black lab named Pepper – and we loved her.

A child and a half later, though, with me eight months pregnant, Mark suddenly “between jobs”, major home renovations underway and an energetic twenty month old to chase after, something had to give and that something, unfortunately, was Pepper.

There were tears all around when we said good-bye to our beloved pooch but our then twenty-month-old daughter rebounded beautifully. And that, we thought, was the end of that.

We thought wrong.

Somewhere around the age of four, this daughter, deprived of a pet she couldn’t remember enjoying, caught a severe and unshakable case of I-Want-A-Dog. The pining and whining, wheeling and dealing became relentless.

Since we couldn’t grant her wish in reality, we chose to grant her wish in books. Luckily, there are many books that deal with the wishing for, pining for, sublimating the desire for and, sometimes even getting, a dog. Today we look at a “clump” of three books that treat us to the thrill of making that dream come true, in various ways, any time we like.

I Want a Dog (Dayal Kaur Khalsa; 1994 Tundra Books) describes the 24×7 yearning of young May who eats, breaths and sleeps her longing for a dog. All that stands between May and the dog she desires is time but May finds the waiting unbearable and devises a steady stream of elaborate schemes to eliminate the wait. What I love about this version of the dog-longing story is that it presents, in generous and humourous detail, both sides of the dog debate and leaves readers young and old feeling understood and with a refreshing taste of a win-win solution.
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Amigo ( Byrd Baylor Illustrated by Garth Williams; 1989 Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing) presents an original, distracting and wholly satisfying approach to the I-want-a-dog debate. What stands between Fransisco and the dog he desires is the reality of financial hardship. Fransisco eventually chooses to sublimate his dog longing by working to tame a wild (and extremely adorable) prairie dog. The charm of this tale is that — unbeknownst to Fransisco — the prairie dog is also working to tame him! This magical, if unrealistic, story treats us to the giddy thrill of success while momentarily opening up the possibility of dog-free joy.
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The Outside Dog (Charlotte Pomerantz Illustrated by Jennifer Plecas; 1995 Harper Collins) recounts the gentle give and take between the hopeful Marisol and her resistant abuelito (grandfather) as a skinny, brown mutt inches his way into their lives. The loving and gradual erosion of the grandfather’s resistance is a reminder that we adults do want our children to be happy while Marisol’s willingness to meet her grandfather half way reminds us that there may be more than one way to solve to the dog-longing debate. This deceptively simple story is hugely satisfying.
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Now you have three ways to virtually satisfy that I-Want-A-Dog craving; and not a poop-and-scoop in sight.

Thanks for listening. I’m Andrea Ross from the Just One More Book! Podcast and we’ve been Swimming in Literary Soup.

Soup du Jour:

Today we look at a “clump” of four books about independent thinkers who, without fanfare or animosity, disregard the judgements of others and are simply happy being who they are.

Ingredients (books discussed):

• Odd Velvet
• The Recess Queen
• Suki’s Kimono
• Annie Bizzanni

Jump into Today’s Soup (feedback):

Join the conversation by clicking the Comments link below or sending an email to justonemorebook@gmail.com.

Second Helpings (transcript of podcast):

In a society where the media, schools and, sadly, even parents often expect us to conform to prescribed, cookie-cutter ways of being, a common challenge for adults and children alike is to understand and appreciate out-of-the-box thinking or behavior in ourselves and others. With so much emphasis on conforming, being or even befriending a person who is viewed as different can be a scary and isolating experience.It’s not surprising, then, that we sometimes go to great lengths to reject or hide our unique selves — and to avoid those who don’t.

Many children’s books and, to a greater extent, movies attempt to reduce the social stigma against being different through boisterous victory-of-the-underdog themed stories in which the independent thinker saves the day and, to the rousing cheers of once-distant peers, instantly becomes the poster child of popularity. There is no denying that such victories feel great but I believe stories which present quiet appreciation, improved understanding or simply congenial co-existence go further to help children deal with different ways of being.

Before looking at the books, let me explain that I like to read to my two daughters in clumps. That is, I like to read in one sitting several books that are completely parallel in certain ways – offering similar characters, situations, or themes – but are different enough to make the clumped reading interesting. I clump by activity (riding a bike, say), by storyline (several variations on the Frog Prince story, for example) or, as in the case today, by explorations of a similar “type” of character (a girl that is viewed as being “different”). There are many books that deal with differences in, what I believe are, very constructive ways. Today we look at a “clump” of four books about independent thinkers who, without fanfare or animosity, disregard the judgements of others and are simply happy being who they are.

Odd Velvet (Mary Whitcomb Illustrated by Tara Calahan King; 1998 Chronicle Books) tells the story of a happily independent school girl who has bypassed the consumer mentality of her peers and finds beauty and entertainment in the world around her. What I love about this story is that Violet’s unimposing enjoyment of life remains steadfast throughout: her self esteem easily withstands the taunts of her classmates and she remains true to her nature as she gradually gains the respect of her peers. Violet’s self worth is clearly not tied to her judgment by others.
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The Recess Queen (Alexis O’Neill Illustrated by Laura Huliska-Beith; 2002 Scholastic Press) relays, in snappy, what is it? Hip hop beat? the story of a school yard bully effortlessly felled by the teeny tiny independently minded Katie Sue, “a kid you might scare with a jump and a boo!”. Here again, the beauty of the story — for me — is in Katie Sue’s unwavering sense of self worth regardless of her noticeably different approach to life and in the fact that she takes in stride both the bullying and her offhanded deflation of the bully.
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Suki’s Kimono ( Chieri Uegaki Illustrated by Stephane Jorisch; 2003 Kids Can Press) is a refreshing celebration of individuality and joie de vivre. This first-day-of-school story contrasts the uninhibited and happily independent six year old Suki with her self-conscious, stiff and validation-seeking sisters – and their complete embarrassment that their little sister is wearing a kimono to school. Although I think Suki could do without the applause of her classmates, Suki’s sunny self-assurance remains constant throughout and she gains no satisfaction from the fact that her sisters’ preparation and preening brought them nothing but exasperation.
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Annie Bizzanni (Frances Halle Illustrated by Fil et Julie; 2006 Bayard Canada Books) introduces us to a creative, multi-tasking and impulsive free-spirit who lives life in large slices which she feels no pressure to complete. Although her friends are obviously amused, inconvenienced and, sometimes, scared by Annie’s quirky behavior what I love about this book is that Annie’s way of being is simply portrayed as being different — not better or worse — than that of her peers, that her friends love her for who she is and that she is very happy being herself.

Although society may expect it, we’re not cookie cutouts and we all fall inside and outside various different boxes. We might as well enjoy ourselves!

Thanks for listening. I’m Andrea Ross from the Just One More Book! Podcast and we’ve been Swimming in Literary Soup.

I’ve always pictured the impact of childhood reading as having at least three dimensions — as something that fills us, surrounds us and through which we perceive and relate to our world.

In a recent interview for the Just One More Book! childrens’ book podcast, Margaret Shannon, author of the darkly magical fairy tale, The Red Wolf, shared her view that everything we read becomes part of our own personal “Literary Soup”. I realized then that that’s just the way I’ve pictured the 3dimensional impact of childhood reading — as “Literary Soup”.

I believe that we each draw from our own personal literary soup when we create the stories we tell ourselves about our selves, our world and our lives. And, if the soup is hearty and warm and if there is plenty of it, I believe we can jump right in and swim around, viewing and relating to our world through the experiences and images acquired through our childhood reading.

In this segment for G.N.M. Parents, I’ll share with you my thoughts on the quality and quantity of possible ingredients for brewing up delicious, nutritious, leave-them-begging-for-second-helpings-style Literary Soup. I will suggest combinations of books which I hope will inspire, engage, educate and entertain and practices that may nurture strong reading skills and a love of reading in our young swimmers so they’ll not only stay afloat but will enjoy the experience so much that they’ll eagerly continue to add wisely to their own soup as our window of influence diminishes.

Welcome to Swimming in Literary Soup. I’m your host, Andrea Ross. I’m pleased to meet you.

Many thanks to:

• Whitney and Megin for the invitation to the GNM Parents community
• Nico of Snowy Day Design for the SILS Banner and Badge
• patchen and fogma for the SILS splash and pool sounds
• Robert Farrell for the “Woolly Mammoth” theme music
• Mark of Third Storey Productions for Audio Production
• you for stopping in