At least you won't be bored this summer

Ah ... 'Tis the season: Teachers are doing their super secret happy-dance on the grave of another school year; parents will soon be pulling out their hair for want of activities that will keep their kids independently entertained; and publishers are promising a carefree summer vacation if you buy their activity books.

Here's one thing I can honestly tell you about that last part: If the book involves crafts or cooking (and your kid is under 10) there is no way in hell you won't hear your name called at least 15,000 times in that familiar sing-song whine that makes you wish you could legally sell them to gypsies. ... So choose wisely.

IF YOU CAN'T STAND PAPER DOLLS do not buy "Paper Fashions Fantasy," Klutz, $22. Although this book is clever -- offering a bunch of different templates for tops, bottoms and accessories your budding designer can trace onto prettily printed papers, you will go out of your mind trying to figure out how to hang the fashions on the tiny wire hangers, which are provided.
Mom Rated: *Mommy Dearest Comes to MInd*
Kid Rated: *This is Totally Styling*

IF YOU HAVE A THREE-YEAR-OLD don't get "Eye Q Picture Puzzler," Downtown Bookworks, $12. It may actually keep the older one enthralled as you travel, but if you forget it's in your luggage and your graffiti-artist toddler finds it, you may be needing a visit from room cleaning service.
Kid Rated: *I Found the Rabbits!*
Mom Rated: *Where's the Pen?*

IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BUY SOCKS take a pass on "The Lonely Sock Club" by Laurie Goldrich Wolf, Simon and Schuster, $17. Because for all its "Green & Groovy" cache, your kid will not be satisfied until you part with some actual cash. The way she sees it, the cats made using old "dryer-ate-the-other-one" and "used-to-be-a-nice-color" socks will pale in comparison to the creatures featured in the book. Another tip? Ignore the no-sew directions if you want to save your sanity.
Mom Rated: *Thank GOD Target Sells Socks*
Kid Rated: *I Will Populate the World with Sock Kittens*

One final warning ...
Though your kid may not be able to MAKE the projects in the sock book without help, she WILL be able to dress them. You can estimate the resulting fashion show will keep you busy for at least an hour.

Activity Books ... not as oxymoronic as the name would imply

Oh ... you know we love books. Which is what makes it possible for me to scoff at a recent bit of fluff in the Gray Lady that simultaneously tries to sound the death knell of picture books while blaming parents for their murder.

It's true though, we sometimes borrow steal buy books that inspire us to do other things ... such as draw our own picture books.

For instance, Seven Footer Press (disclosure! I have a dear friend there) has a bunch of wonderful activity books in its collection that allow kids (of all ages) to use their imagination and fill in the blanks. Our favorite is "100 Shapes," a book of stencils by Nao Sugimoto, the pages of which can be cut out, put on a key ring and used over and over again on any number of important art works.




Judith Cressy's "What Can You Do With A Paper Bag" has been a favorite of ours since we picked it up at a library book sale a few years ago. The activity book takes its inspiration from the Metropolitan Museum of Art's collection and provides step-by-step instructions on making hats, headdresses and wigs out of paper bags.




And though it's not an activity book per say, Robert Sabuda's latest pop-up sculpture wonder, "Beauty and the Beast," has both kids foaming at the mouth to make their own three-dimensional storybooks. Which leads me to think maybe Santa will leave one or two of these little books under the tree.

Another book we are fond of is the homemade sketchbook.



This thing was born one night shortly before bedtime when it became painfully obvious (by the eardrum-piercing shrieks) that there was a notebook inequity among sprogs. Namely, Ittybit had many and The Champ had none.

In fewer than five minutes with my sewing machine I was able to manufacture a book and a happier bedtime.

THINGS YOUR NEED

* Two 8.5" x 11" sheets of craft or wool felt
* One 8.5" x 11" sheet of web interfacing
* 8 or 10 sheets of letter-sized paper
* Thread

THINGS YOU DON'T NEED ...
BUT WILL MAKE LIFE SO MUCH NICER

* A sewing machine
* Some felt scraps for embellishments

WHAT YOU DO



* If you are sewing a heart or flower onto the cover, do that first. Cut out your embellishment and place it on the center right side of one sheet of felt. Sew all the way around the edges with a zig-zag stitch. (It doesn't take long with a sewing machine, but if your kid is screaming and can't be consoled with chocolate or beer, skip to the next step.



* For the cover, sandwich the sheet of interfacing between the two sheets of felt and sew closed. I sewed two paths using zig-zag stitch: One to secure the interfacing (my interfacing scrap wasn't large enough to reach the edges) to the felt and the other to close the edges.



* Center the sheets sheets of paper onto the cover and sew along the center using the widest straight stitch available on your machine. The closer your stitch the more perforate-y your pages will be.

Of course, if you give a kid a sketchbook before bedtime you'll have to find some crayons.



Beware of the broken ones.

Shelf space

An interesting piece in the New York Times places pushy parents in the picture of a shrinking picture book marketplace.

Publishers and booksellers are saying that aside from the economic downturn they're seeing a trend in which parents are steering their kids around the shelves containing picture books and toward chapter books in some ill-fated effort to jump junior to the head of the class.

I'm not sure I buy it, though. I think parents are getting a little more of a rap on the knuckles than they deserve.

There seemed to be a huge surge in the production of picture books in the 80s and 90s. Even when the economy turned south, kid lit seemed fairly unaffected by tightening belts so publishers followed the trend. After all, books make great gifts.

Of course, belt tightening was still going on. Publishers have been less likely to take chances on untested authors, choosing instead celebrities-turn-scribe. They gambled on interactive media and the promulgation of brands.

This past decade, as the internet settled in and it seemed folks were pretty much avoiding brick-and-mortar stores, all sections started to shrink, with the possible exception of the Bargain Bins.

The NYT piece also makes it clear that classics, such as "Good Night Moon" and Dr. Suess titles, are still selling well. So ... the picture book isn't really dead, it's just that the market for the ones they're trying to sell, maybe, isn't sustainable.

Of course, I am just guessing.

We usually get our picture books at second-hand shops ... or at the library, where we can return them before they need dusting.

And now ... more than ever ... we're getting them from the publishers themselves, who are hoping I can get three friends to tell three friends. ... Who are probably already getting books from publishers hoping they'll influence me.

Not that I blame them, but it is what it is: the marketplace has been spread pretty thin and eventually we all run out of shelf space.

Bed, Beach and Beyond

It's hard to believe summer is nearly upon us.

I mention this because summer and reading go together like peanut butter and chocolate, yet I am STILL trying to get through Augusten Burroughs' Christmas-themed book of essays, "You Better Not Cry." This inability to finish the volume should in no way reflect on the man's talents. He's brilliant. I have the attention span of a gnat.

Which is probably why the books I've been reading at bedtime reflect my children's tastes. It is after all, their bedtime.

So ... without further ado, here are some of our picks for summer:

LIFE'S A BEACH READ

"Atlantic," is a beautifully made picture book written and illustrated by G. Brian Karas (G.P Putnam's Sons, Penguin Group, 2002. $16.) is a poetic description of the sea by the sea itself. His words roll off the tongue with the same calming lull of quiet waves. His illustrations, in fleshed out in various media, are charmingly childlike, yet give the overall impression of an effortless sophistication. It's the perfect book to gear up for your seaside escape this summer.

"Wave," by Korean-born author/illustrator Suzy Lee (Chronical Books, 2008. $16) wordlessly personifies the sea and our relationship with the natural world. The story takes readers on an afternoon outing with a curious girl and a playful wave to witness a universal tale. Like the sea, "Wave" is magnificant in its simple grace.

ARE WE THERE YET?

For most of us, reaching an ocean isn't a simple journey. It often requires some forethought as to timing, travel routes and accommodations. For parents of younger children, this usually means managing multiple distractions. When I was a kid, managing distraction was synonymous with getting hollered at for punching my sister in the arm every time I noticed a Volkswagon Beetle (usually when I hadn't). Today's parent, however, has it easier. They only need to juggle a DVD library and dole out snacks on regular intervals.

Unless their kids are weird (like mine are) and tire of the movie before the battery power plummets.

For us, I'm happy to say, there is hope ... sticky, sticky hope.

"Stickers!," "Incredible Stickers!" "Holes!" and "Squiggles!" activity books (published by Seven Footer Kids, $8) are the perfect companion books for carseat travelers. Although the activities are somewhat scripted (In the sticker books kids dress up birthday cakes with sticker candles or turn photographs of bread slices into apartment houses with sticker windows) the activities also encourage creative improvisation. The books are clever, well made and take time and thought to complete.

Although not an activity book, "My Heart is Like a Zoo" by Michael Hall (Harper Collins, 2010. $17) is just few sheets of construction paper and scissor slices away. A stunningly elegant concept, all the zoo animals in this book are made with hearts. Once you're done visiting the animals in the story, you can use the book as reference for drawing or creating your own heart-shaped friends.


TEACHABLE MOMENTS

I was recently introduced to Suzy Lee's work (above) by a publishing friend who gifted me "Mirror" (Seven Footer Kids, 2003. $16), a wordless story about a girl playing with her reflection in a mirror. More art book that story book, "Mirror" is atypical of most children's literature in that its story, while not macabre, doesn't end with mirth and joy. Its theme - that every action has a consequence - is emotional, psychological, frightening and hopeful, just not always in that order. The illustrations - charcoal drawings - perfectly match the story as they alternate between wisp and weight. "Mirror" is well worth owning, even if your child has to grow into adulthood to appreciate it.

One might think ABCs are purely elementary, but as artful elements they can literally stand out. Two recent alaphabet books have captured our fancy for this reason. The first is "LMNO Peas" by Keith Baker (Simon and Schuster, 2010. $17). It's a playfully charming book for preschoolers and begining readers that features the the roly-poly legumes exploring letters and the words they make. I love this book, in part, because it doesn't concern itself with the simple words or sounds, but opens the door to more complicated concepts that parents can discuss.

Romero Britto's "My Alphabet Playbook," (Simon and Schuster, 2010. $13) is perhaps the most amazing book with the least impressive title. Britto, a young Brazilian pop artist, has created a book that plays hide and seek and turns into sculpture as well as helping youngsters master letter sounds. It's truly a remarkable book that promises hours of fun.

Date Night definitions

"Who's David Sedaris?" my husband asked as I scrambled to procure a sitter so that we might see his performance at The Palace Theatre in Albany.

"Oh, he's kind of a literary humorist -- part social commentator, part memoirist," I replied.

It was apparent by the silence the questioner wanted more information.

"But what does he write?"

"Well. ... He's this guy who tears a page out of life, puts it through a shredder and then takes each individal piece and crumbles them up. He then carefully smoothes out the pieces and weaves them back together in some elaborate order that is not apparent to you. He asks you to hold it for a second as a favor, while he rips up another page. And, as you stare at this weird thing in your hands, you suddenly have two distincly separate but connected understandings: 'modern art isn't really elitist after all' ... and 'my five-year-old can't do this'."

More silence.

"Ok. So ... I'll just Google him then?"

"Probably best."

Everyone and Their Mother is making crafts

Handcrafts are hip, there's no denying it. So hip, in fact, we are all spending small fortunes trying to save money by Doing It Ourselves.

Naturally, the trend to make homemade leads to the desire to sell it, too. It's like a gateway drug. You start by repairing a hem or sewing a button and before you know it your house is filled with felt gnomes or knitted coffee cup cozies.

Now it's not likely that any of my handiwork is ever going to be featured on Cool Mom Picks or in the Etsy Showcase. That would be crazier than Amy Sedaris quitting her comedy gigs to sell google-eyed peanuts at craft fairs.

Must I remind you that I am the person who made this?

However, if I WERE going to attempt to monetize my insanity I'd take some tips from Kari Chapin's recently published book "The Handmade Marketplace." ($15, Storey Publishing)

Chapin, a professional in marketing and community relations, offers practical tips for crafters that runs the gamut from sourcing materials and optimising work spaces to getting the attention of buyers and shipping out the finished product.

The advice in the book gleans tips from professional crafters and discusses potential marketing draws, such as getting the word out on your amazing one-of-a-kind thing-a-ma-whats via everything from social networking, asking a local shop to see if they can sell one or two, to buying ads in national publications.

While there's nothing earth shattering in the advice -- one section on attending craft fairs and swaps reminds readers to "look welcoming," "start conversations" and say "thank you" -- the brief, headlined entries are easy to read and collectively offer a firm basis for ensuring new entrepreneurs aren't stepping on their own toes as they join the marketplace dance.

NOTE: Since I'm not going to be one of Everyone's Mothers who unleash felt flops on the world, leave a comment here if you want my copy of the guide. If there are more than one of you out there, a winner will be fairly and scientifically picked at random by a kid with popsicle-sticky hands. ... I won't let them lick the pages. Promise.

What dangers lurk under the sink so rare?

There’s a leak in the drain of my kitchen sink.

A slow leak that is even slower in getting repaired.

I’ve learned to work around it. I’ve propped a double-sided utility caddy under the drain; one side catches the drips, the other contains the various detergents and scrubs used in the weekly cleaning exploits of yours truly.

On the occasion of cleaning other parts of the house, I check the levels and find an inch or so of water needing to be dumped.

Occasionally we go away on the weekend … and then the following weekend, perhaps, we make other plans. The grime and gunk around other parts of the house build up.

As does the pool of water in the caddy.

How many weekends has it been since I checked? I wonder.

What I found was dreadful. Horrifying even.

Two. Dead. Mice.

Two sodden, matted little corpses, floating in either ends of the plastic bin.

Putrid.

Oh … it seems so tame, doesn’t it? It seems so much like the daily diary of any frustrated housewife.

No one really cares what’s under your sink. Rodents floating in an inch of water, in a place one keeps their toxic chemicals to clean an inch of dust, matters not in a world where toxic assets have cleaned out entire retirement savings.

Yet this terrible discovery is what I’m thinking about as I’m reading “Sir Ryan’s Quest,” a charmingly drawn and beautifully written story by Jason Deeble about a little boy who meets the King of the Pots under his kitchen counter and goes on a journey of epic proportions in the otherwise mundane corners of his house.

But two people I know really do care what’s under the sink. They aren't even squeamish. There is adventure to be had.

Even Silas, at the grand old age of two, can spot the man living in Deeble's jungle closet. He screams in delight over the basement cave’s moldy monster. Annabel, likewise, giggles in anticipation as Sir Ryan's Quest leads from room to room.

Both kids adore the language, which adheres itself to a poetic chivalry of another age. It’s a joy to read aloud.

And I have to admit, I adore the message: Adventure is everywhere, even in the relative safety of home.

Dangerous Books for Boys ...

The March release of "Momma Loves Her Little Son," (Simon and Schuster, $17) the first children's book by John Carter Cash, illustrated by Marc Burckhardt, seemed strategically timed to coincide with Mother's Day. The only son of the legendary Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash, John Carter Cash has spent much of his own career advancing and archiving the legacy of his famous parents, his mother in particular.

In his children's volume, John Carter Cash claims to share the nighttime words she used to to sweep him up over mountains and sky scrapers and imagined adventures before bidding him goodnight.

I have to admit, *disclosure* when Simon and Schuster offered a review copy of this book I wanted to love it.

I have a son who doesn't sit still to read. I have a daughter who has more books about mothers' love than imaginable. The gap between them would need a lengthy bridge to traverse.

But from the moment it arrived the volume turned me off. Figuratively and literally.

To be frank, I found the smell of the ink overpowering.

I wasn't going to mention that I found the odor of the book to be even slightly nauseating. I'm not a printing expert and it could have been some isolated event, or perhaps some fresh-book smell I'm unaccustomed to. The illustrations, which are quite beautiful, are also saturated. So I decided to let it air out for a while before
i'd air such a grievance. Seemed like such a paltry quibble any way. ...

When I finally read it, however, (and yes, the scent was still evident a month later) I had to wonder if the smell wasn't some lingering bile from some unspoken sibling rivalry.

"Momma loves her little son.
There is nothing more so true.
From now until forever more,
Momma clings to you."

Near its end, Carter Cash's book also adds Christian overtones that, while some families may share and welcome them, will not appeal to all audiences.

Overall, the quality of the storytelling is what I find most lacking. The words weren't terribly lyrical, and their flow wasn't particularly satifying. Perhaps that's why all the press material that accompanied the book referred to the words instead of the story almost exclusively. In this respect it seems possible, in reading between the lines anyway, that the words June Carter actually said merely filled out the title and John Carter Cash conjured the story himself.

I suspect the latter because the work also seems awkward in the way personal stories can be. The more I read it, however, the more I realized the work he's created doesn't really speak to me as a special vehicle for mother and son, as much as it seems capable of driving a wedge between brother and sister.

I think I would have left "Momma Loves Her Little Son" on the shelf if it hadn't arrived in the mail.



Alison McGhee and Peter H. Reynolds, creators of the best-selling "Someday," have a much better option in their 2008 book "Little Boy," (Simon and Schuster, $16). (A book I did buy off the shelf).

"Little Boy
So much depends on ...
your yellow cup,
a serenade to wake you up,
sun that slants across the rug,
the wings on that astonishing bug."

This book takes a more carefree, playful tone than "Someday," but its message is no less elegant. Its love is implied in the noticing and the marveling of boyhood play. Imagination is at play here, too, but it is subtle. The other thing I like about this book is that it doesn't classify a mother's love as being separate from the rest of the family ... it's a book anyone can read to a boy ... and the love will be implied.

Even big sisters. (Well, once they learn how to read, anyway.) Love is love.

Five bucks

five bucks, originally uploaded by toyfoto.

The other portion of last week's stimulus money, which is $11 if you're keeping track, went for a cup of coffee for me, and some candy and trinkets for the kids' Easter baskets.

Getting out of the house by myself to browse at the used bookstore was kind of priceless.

I can READ! I can READ!

So I learned I can still read books. But apparently I can only read books people send me for my birthday. Figuring out what's out there on my own is apparently too difficult.

What? It's been more than four years since Annabel was born and I've read a total of four books in all that time?

Four years, and the number of books written for people beyond the age of six that I've read can be counted on one hand. Good times, hey?

Well let's cut to the chase, shall we?

Jill Smolinski's "The Next Thing on My List" is everything the back cover says it will be: It's a fun read; it's quick; It's light hearted; and it ends all neat and even. In other words it's poifect.

It's the youngish woman's version of The Bucket List. Only the protagonist doesn't bother us with her own glorious dreams she's racing to accomplish before some unforeseen or tragic end befalls her ... because that would just be creepy.

Instead Smolinski gets the tragic stuff out of the way first thing. Our lovely leading lady, June, has an accident in her car and kills a woman - a virtual stranger - she'd offered a ride. Afterward she finds the unlucky person's list of things to do before she turns 25, and, out of a sense of guilt (or maybe just early middle-aged-but-not-yet-started-her-own-life enui) decides to complete the tasks in honor of the dead woman.

Because that's not at all creepy. No, not in the least.

I have to say the book is predictable, silly, lightweight and with a charming off-Hollywood Hollywood ending that brings it all back to our heroine reclaiming her own life. No way is it literature but who cares? It ends well.

Take this one to beach, folks. It's a page-turner that will bring a smile to your face on at least four separate occasions. You might even laugh (or at least chortle). I did.

(SELF) PUBLISHING UPDATE

The books I ordered from Blurb arrived. Cheapy-shipped and all, they arrived in time for the big dad day, and in perfect condition as well. They are each 20 pages hardbound with pictures imbedded in the covers (rather than a dust jacket).

The only thing that would have made them better is if I were a better page designer (within Blurb's templates of course) or if I was a better phographer/photo editor. Some images I selected, upon reflection, weren't terribly good. So I guess that's what? Cut and paster's remorse?

Facts of life ... book form

Don't Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late, words and pictures by Mo Willems:

I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I think I may actually like this book even better than it's Caldecott Medal winning sibling, "Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus." The busdriver makes a repeat performance, only this time he's holding a candle and wearing a nightcap and asking that readers NOT TO LET THE PIGEON stay up late. But as is his nature, Pigeon tries to worm his way out of going to sleep. This time Annabel stuck to her guns. She may be all for letting the Pigeon drive the bus, but no way is she letting the whirly bird stay up late.

Even though illustrator Stephen Michael King tells us in his delightful book, "Emily Loves to Bounce," that sometimes she eats and sometimes she sleeps, any reader can plainly see that Emily's singular purpose in life is to bounce. With lots of white space, this book leaves a lot to the imagination as it's quirky characters -- which include her dinosaur and Nana Pat -- hop and bounce and boing, looking for the best bounce of all -- which is mommy and daddy's bed, of course. Just becareful of the tummy bounces, they look like Emily fell on her head. No matter, she's up and bouncing on her feet in no time.

Each month Annabel comes home from preschool with Scholastic Book order forms, and every month I've felt a little like the book Scrooge, because I don't really find anything that floats my boat. So they've mostly gone into the recycling. That pains me a little because ordering books through school gives the little school house credit towards its own library. Apparently, all I needed was incentive. Recently, Lori told me that she'd like to place an order for her own collection, and I did book buying, too. While I wasn't terribly interested in television stars Clifford or Care Bears, I thought maybe it'd be good to try The Usborne's First Thousand Words in Spanish. I mean it couldn't hurt to for Annabel to have an understanding that English isn't the only language right?

Boy was I shocked when it quickly became her favorite book. She especially likes the medical pages for some reason, but also LOVES to see what's happening in the crazy kitchen. There are so many surprises in the pictures it somehow cancels out the fact that the book organized as a simple a picture book with Spanish words under their respective pictures. It also has a wonderful glossary for definition and pronounciation in the back. Of course, for a few months Annabel wouldn't let me refer to it while we were reading, so I was pronouncing LOTS of stuff incorrectly. I suppose I'll always be an ugly American.

From the moment I saw "Tub-Boo-Boo" at a local secondhand book store I was hooked. Something about Glin Dibbly's slightly freakish folks and Margie Palatini's fast paced, rhyming prose made me an instant fan. Of course, I bought the book when Annabel was only a few months old, but I had hope that in time she'd come to love it. What's not to love about a book narrated as if it were a news report by a knowing older sister about her little brother who gets his big toe stuck in the faucet of the tub. "A Tub-Boo-Boo? A Tub-what-who?" I can happily report that Annabel giggles like mad as the whole town gets trapped in the bath fiasco. This is a book that would make Laura Petry amused.

I can't believe I haven't mentioned "Homemade Love" before. Written by academic bell hooks, "Homemade Love" is a THE first book Annabel was ever mesmerized by. I kid you not, she was a two-month-old infant sitting quietly, eyes glued to the book. If she was crying the poetic words, read over and over, would put her at ease. This book is my favorite for all those early memories as well as it's sweet and loving message: "My Mama calls me girlpie, her sweet, sweet. Daddy's honeybun, chocolate dew drop. Homemade Love. All good, good." -- A perfect valentine.

Aw, let the pigeon drive the bus ... it's only for pretend

Annabel always sticks up for the underdog. ... Or in this case the under bird.

This interactive little picture book starts off with a bus driver taking a break and asking readers to please make sure that no one - not even the wheedling, pleading, cajoling, wormy pigeon - drives his bus.

But the little squab is incorrigible:

"I'll be your best friend!"

"How 'bout I give you five bucks."

"I bet your mom would let me."

"I have dreams, you know!"

Annabel, it turns out, understands about dreams. From page two, when pigeon peeked in his little head into the story to ask permission, she was ready to hand over the keys.

"I would let him drive the bus. It's only for pretend."

'Tis the season

Christmas comes but once a year in this house, but Halloween is celebrated day in and day out. Annabel was introduced to monsters early because I wanted her to make friends. Don't act like this surprises you. (I live on the edge.)

It's genetic, really. One of my earliest memories of my grandmother was of watching Frankenstein movies with her while my parents had stepped out for a night on the town. Together, curled up in blankets, we'd also listen to General Electric's Mystery Theater on the radio. So when Annabel decided the sharks in Nemo were scary - and that's why she liked them - I understood completely, and even felt a little pride that she was a mama's girl.

Since then I've been collecting a veritable library of frightful tales for bedtime, read, of course, with the covers pulled up and monster spray in hand.

I believe these books are not only a joy to read aloud, but they are really wonderful literature as well. So in the spirit of the season, and without further ado, here's our favorite spooky reading list for you.

Curse in Reverse
Written by Tom Coppinger
Illustrated by Dirk Zimmer
Simon & Schuster, 2003

Agnezza the witch is an unlikely heroine. She spits green phlegm at those hard-hearted souls who turn her away in the bitter cold. Of course Ittybit loves her and her wicked ways. But when Agnezza meets the lovely and charming Trettors, a childless couple of modest means who give her the best of what little they have, she repays them with a curse. And it's the most wonderful curse ever. Keep an eye out though for little details in this woodblock-esque illustration that will make your little demon howl in delight.





The Spider to the Fly
Written by Mary Howitt (1821)
Illustrated by Tony DiTerlizzi
Simon & Schuster

You won't go wrong with this Caldecott metal winner based on Howitt's early 19th century cautionary tale about falling into the trap of vanity when you believe a silver-tongued devil such as DiTerlizzi's silvery arachnid. No happy ending here folks, but believe me the beauty of the words are worth the brutality of the deeds ... even for an almost big girl.





Jitterbug Jam: A Monster Tale
Written by Barbara Jean Hicks
Illustrated by Alexis Deacon

Ripped from the funny pages, this book tells a heart-warming story of what would happen if a little monster stood his ground with the red-headed boy that torments him during daylight hours when he is supposed to be fast asleep. A wonderfully illustrated book, Jitterbug Jam is told in an unmistakable, buttery southern drawl that will make your mouth water as you read it to your little monsters. A great book for kids who are afraid of things that go bump in the night. They'll learn monsters have fears of their own.





Who Will You Meet in Scary Street?: Nine Pop-Up Nightmares
Written by Christine Tagg
Little, Brown; Pop-up Edition

I'm a sucker for pop-up books, and I this one is so gross it's good. I love books that have a rhyme and reason, and a few blood curdling twists and turns, too. Although the age recommendation on this one is 3 and up, I got it for Ittybit when she turned 2, and she loved all the eye-popping characters from the Mummy pair traveling everywhere to the Vet with all the ferocious pets. And a surprise ending that will make you scream for more. We read it over and over again.