I know it's blurry . . . the point of this photo is to show the hat in motion. You saw the hat coming, didn't you? It's a new one, made just for my little guy. I just really needed to make that red pom. The pom made my week.
I've been thinking about the stages of reading. The New York Times had an article about how picture books are falling out of favor; kids are outgrowing them, or being encouraged to move on to chapter books, at an earlier age. How depressing! I have never outgrown picture books, and in fact look forward to reading them every night with my kids. Sure, the 6-year-old likes her chapter books too, but why would anyone rush away from the sublime format of image and word together? For me it all goes back to Blake, and book arts, and the unity of idea and execution that can be so brilliant in a good picture book. Bah. Do not rush your child through childhood. (You can find many interesting ideas about stages of childhood--and some ideas on peaceful parenting and intentional homemaking--here, at one of my new favorite blogs.)
I wanted to share some of the books I've been reading with the almost-three-year-old, who seems to be in a major moment of transition in his life: behavior, skills, interests, and temperament: all are evolving. (I need that red pom pom on the hat to keep track of him.) Many of the books are not new, but are beloved nonetheless: the Tom and Pippo series by Helen Oxenbury; the Maple Hill Farm books by Alice and Martin Provensen; Polo and his many adventures by Regis Faller; the hapless duo Boo and Baa by Olaf and Lena Landstrom. What strikes me is that nearly all of these books--with the notable exception of Polo (which provides fantastic and reality-defying feats on every page)--recount very ordinary events. I guess there is something comforting about seeing our daily lives reflected, in an artful way, in literature--no matter what our age.
