MamaStories

• The Sam and Stella Books

We love Marie-Louise Gay’s Sam and Stella books. Amie loves the repeated “Stellaaaaaaa!” or “Saaaaaam!” exclamations, Stella’s red hair, and Sam’s funny dog, Fred.

And, o yes, the stories – always surprising, uplifting and subtly wise – and the illustrations – delightful watercolors and pencil works of art (colorful, but easy on the eye) of adorable characters and settings.

Oh, and those settings! Stella and Sam venture mostly outside, into nature. There Sam asks and Stella answers, to the best of her capabilities, which are extensive, especially in the area of imagination.

- “Stella, can dogs read?” asked Sam

- “Yes,” said Stella. “But they need glasses.”

Even when they’re inside, they are getting ready to go out, or the outside is subtly present.

• What are you doing, Sam?

In ”What are you doing, Sam?”, Stella keeps an eye on her little brother’s increasingly alarming indoor activities – that is, alarming for us, reading parents: the kids don’t worry, since there are no parents, not even a hint of them, in the Sam and Stella books.

Stella is more occupied with studying leaves and trees. My favorite illustration shows her sitting at a desk strewn with paints, tape, brushes and inks, leaves taped onto paper, and a jar with a ladybug. She is painting a tree on the right page in abook - on the left page there are notes.

Stella is my kind of girl! And the place where she lives – the rooms, the house, the natural worLd outside – is my kind of place!

The window behind her reveals that it is raining. Brown leaves are falling to the ground. It is Fall and the feeling that has been growing throughout the book – of homeliness, warmth and safety – magisterially comes together.

In the next illustration, Sam is also painting (on the wall!): in his painting the sun shines brightly, and the grass and trees are green.

In fact, I am so enamored with these books that I went ahead and wrote them up in an article on Suite1o1! Be sure to have a read!

• Letters

A couple of months ago, Amie started showing interest in letters. It was rather unavoidable, as we have wooden alphabet puzzles and alphabet fridge magnets. And she sees us reading, of course, and writing on paper (Mama) and on the computer (Baba and Mama).

She now also pretends to read her books,  some of which she knows by heart. It freaks out visitors, because she really seems to be reading fluently! She can recognize her written name and the A, B, C, K, M, O, P, S (and perhaps X).

• The things and the name/drawing/picture of it

She also pretends to write. On those occasions it sometimes seems that she hasn’t quite grasped the difference between the name of a thing and the thing. She will say:

- “This is a dinosaur!” and will make big movements, while very slowly spelling out the word – “di-no-sau-ah!” (with a flourish at the end). I ask her:

- “Did you draw a drawing of a dinosaur or write the word ‘dinosaur’?” (we have always taken care to make those distinctions between pictures,  drawings, or name(s) of something, and the something). She answers:

- “It’s a drawing of a dinosaur!” (tone: are you stupid or what?)

• The Letter Box Game

In any case, a fun game I invented is the Letter Box. It’s your average small cardboard box that has an easy-to-open flap. On it I stuck two cd-sleeves.

1. Every morning, Amie chooses one letter from a cheapo stack of flashcards. The upper and lower case cards go into the cd-sleeves on top. In the picture above we’re working on M, one of her favorite letters.
2. Throughout the day we collect things that start with that letter and put them inside the box. We cut out pictures of monkeys, for instance, put in (small) books whose titles start with the letter (Maisy), and small objects (money).
3. In the evening, we up-end the box and review its contents. I hope it will become part of our routine.

• Homeschooling Reading

That doesn’t mean we’re learning how to read, let alone actually reading. I have been doing some research on all the elements that need to come together and all the effort that needs to be expended for reading to happen… and I must admit, I am intimidated!

I don’t want to leave reading up to school, though. First of all, because  that kind of school is still very far off, and I think Amie might be interested before then. I also want her to learn reading in her own setting, that is, at home, as part of play, and out of her own volition.

Teaching has always been a large part of our parenting - of anyone’s parenting, for sure, but DH and I are very conscious of our roles as teachers. And Amie is a curious girl. She can now count to ten, for instance, not just say the words, but count 10 things: we taught her that and she eagerly aborbed it.

I wonder what kind of shape our teaching her / her learning how to read:

• it will be a homeschooling project, that is clear (even though DH doesn’t like the idea of full-time homeschooling, as someone who grew up in the extremly competitive Indian school system, he is shocked at how late kids in the States learn to read or count, etc. At age 4 he could already spell ‘handkerchief’ – a word I just had to spellcheck to see if I got it right!)
• but will it be more of an unschooling effort?
• or will I scramble to read the latest research and to offer her many experimental inroads?

One thing is for certain, we can’t wait for our daughter to experience the joy of reading, but we’ll take it one step at a time, letting her lead the dance.

Did I mention I am also a Feature Writer for Suite101.com? Once in a while, as I publish more there, I’ll post a widget with my latest articles, like this one:

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Become a freelance writer!

Latest Articles by Katrien Vander Straeten

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Don’t miss my latest article: the more detailed and informed review of Lucy Cousins’ Maisy Books than the one I posted earlier.

Reduce!

The first rule of our more ecologically responsible lifestyle is reduction (ReduceReuseRecycle!). That means, of course, less consumption. Thus less buying.

(Why “of course,” though? Why did I leave it unspoken in our Here and Now List“?)

We haven’t been buying new toys or clothes for Amie, except what is absolutely essential. We are lucky to have friends whose children have outgrown / are outgrowing theirs and are happy to pass them on to us. We’ve stopped going to places like IKEA (so called “just to have dinner”) and Costco, and it has been ages since we’ve shopped for clothes for ourselves. To illustrate, an inventory of our shoes:

• Amie: 3 pairs
• Mama: 2 pairs (clogs and hiking boots)
• Baba: 4 pairs (clogs, hiking boots, sneakers, dressy shoes)

But books!

Inventory of books:

• Amie: 100s (what a bookworm!)
• Mama: 1000s (ahum…)

Books have always been my weakness, and though I have reduced my purchases rather drastically, I can’t seem to bring it down to zero and get all my reading material from the library.

Case in point: today. I walked into the Brookline Booksmith - just to have a look – and there it was, on sale for only $14.99:

• The Naming of Names. The Search for Order in the World of Plants, Anna Pavord

How shall I describe the feeling other than by describing the book in question? A substantial tome, featuring colorful reproductions of mysterious medieval illustrations, a gorgeous introduction about a journey, and the promise of so many little bits of archaic and wholly useless but beautiful knowledge about plants. How could I resist?

Coming to the end of books

Also, I just finished two books that I enjoyed tremendously:

• Harvest, A Year in the Life of an Organic Farm by Nicola Smith

• How Language Comes to Children by Benedicte de Boysson-Bardies

Coming to the end of a book is always traumatic for me, and the best way to deal with the heart ache is to move on.

Possession

One last excuse: I am an avid underliner and note-taker. With my own pen and ink, I set out to possess my copy, imposing my order on the page, adding my thoughts to the margins.

For this reason library books never worked out for me, and I no longer want to do the excessive (and criminal) photocopying I did as a poor college-student.

I am very jealous of my rights as a reader. It is my conviction – not reached haphazardly, but after some years of rigorous study of semiotics - that the text belongs to the reader (to what Umberto Eco, my semiotic hero, calls the intentio lectoris). And so obviously I take that quite literally.

 …

My baby is being put to bed by her Baba. It will take him a while: she is chatting away about her day (about which I should write later). I am aching to emerse myself in new find. So I sign off… Bonne lecture, les enfants.

Amie (19 mos.) is enamored with Maisy, the adorable mouse created by Lucy Cousins (Candlewick Press).

“Maaa-isy Maaa-isy,” Amie calls. Then: “Mama read!” or “Amie read!”

Simplicity is the norm

The stories are short and sequential. The language is sparse, and keywords are repeated often. The bright colors filling large fields surrounded by black lines appeal immediately to a young child’s eye. There is no superfluous detail in the imagery and a minimum of background. The 2D perpective and the simplicity, even stiffness, of the characters too ensure concentration upon the essentials.

A role for the reader

Sounds boring? Not so. There is plenty to do for the caregiver introducing and reading the books to the child. That’s what I, personally, like best about Maisy.

1. There is a great deal of play with contrasts between action and rest, dialogue and description, humor and seriousness. This asks for a lot of voice modulation and even gestures (“Yawn…”, “Boom!”, “Here, chickens!”).
2. Often the reader needs to elaborate or even add a key event to the story. In Doctor Maisy, for instance, the actual crash of Maisy bumping into Tallulah isn’t pictured, and it’s best to do a little song-and-dance yourself while you turn to the next page, which features both creatures alreadysitting down on the floor.  The minimality of the stories certainly leaves plenty of room for growing as the book and the child grow older.
3. The story lines are very recognizable to the child: breakfast, bedtime, farm animals, driving a bus, gift-giving (“Thank you, Maisy!”). They are great openings to discussions about parallel situations in the child’s life.

Interaction 

In short, reading Maisy with your child is bound to get you interacting with your little one. If only because you’re reading it for the hundredth time and you need to spice it up for yourself!

Age-group

And this is Maisy’s biggest plus: these are stories for small children, those crossing the border from infancy into toddlerhood. There is adventure, friendship, small (pretend) illnesses, nothing more abstract than that, and plenty to discuss in their newly acquired voices and words.

Amie no longer needs me to fill in the blank in Doctor Maisy. She sits down on the sofa next to me and reads to her Bear: “Maisy run down (s)teps! No(t) so fast! Crash Maisy Tallulah! Boom! O no Maisy hu(r)t nose! That(‘s) better!”