When my children were small, we read books together—some of my favorites were the Ramona Quimby stories. I remember sitting in Dairy Queen one afternoon, after picking up my two kids from school (David in kindergarten, Wendy in second grade and I was pregnant with Molly). While they ate sundaes, I read the beginning to “Ramona Quimby Age 8”. I laughed so hard I could barely get the words out of my mouth and my kids stared at me like I was nuts. Heaven knows what other customers were thinking. In order to save my children from insanity, we had to leave and finish the book at home, reading a chapter at a time, one per evening because it was all I could manage before I would fall into completely delirious laughter. Years later, I shared the same book with my grandson. I didn’t laugh as hard but I still had to fight through tears of delight as I attempted to read, with appropriate expression, about Ramona’s adventures. What a joy!
Another book we loved was by Lillian Hoban—“Bread and Jam for Frances.” In this children’s story, Frances refuses to eat anything except bread and jam. Her parents try enticing her with different foods but she is steadfast. Of course, she relents finally—read the book to find out why and how this happens—and all is well. The kicker for me was my daughter’s take on the book. Frances puts together a very elaborate lunch kit with all kinds of special “props” and thoroughly enjoys eating many different foods. So Wendy told me she needed certain things for her lunch. We found a little vase of silk flowers ($1.50), a soft napkin that had been my grandmother’s (Wendy used it for a placemat), a smaller matching napkin (she used as an actual napkin), a salt and pepper shaker meant for camping (it all fit together into one piece), a cute lunch box with a thermos (for hot dogs or soup), and individual containers
for various foods. It took her so long to set everything up each day that she barely had time to eat—but oh, boy, was she happy! When she went to second grade, the props were retired with the vase getting a special spot on the knick-knack shelf in her bedroom.
We had a computer program called Story Weaver (I think that’s what it was called -- my memory is fading a bit). The idea was to write a story and illustrate it with the clip art included in the program. There were several story starters, too, and sometimes all three of my kids used the same one to create wildly different tales. No color printers in those days, so they spent a lot of time coloring with crayons and markers the pictures they designed for each story. I put them all in a binder and gave it to the grandparents for Christmas. It is a well-loved book to this day, not just enjoyed by me and my parents, but also by the many cousins who came along after my children were born. It held a place of honor in my parents’ home for many years.
Prior to Story Weaver, I helped my children write stories to give as gifts to their
grandparents for birthdays and mother’s/father’s days. These had titles like “A Day in the Life” or “My Kitten” and I wrote down their words exactly as they dictated. They were young—3 and 4—when we started but soon they were able to do their own writing, complete with invented spelling. My youngest daughter also used inventive spelling to write notes to her best friend after they had a fight. She would carefully compose her letter and march down to Sarah’s house and present it with a flourish. She would usually have to read it to Sarah because her handwriting was pretty much illegible. But the sentiment was clear: “I m sre. Com bck pls. love Molly.”
Now my grandson is writing poetry, sparked by a lesson at school, and encouraged by an internet site he found (on his own) called AllPoetry.com. To post a poem, you have to review a poem so he is not only learning how to give feedback but he is getting kudos for his efforts in composing poetry. He says he wants to be a poet when he grows up. His father (my son!) told him, "You can be a poet right now." And he is.
Another book we loved was by Lillian Hoban—“Bread and Jam for Frances.” In this children’s story, Frances refuses to eat anything except bread and jam. Her parents try enticing her with different foods but she is steadfast. Of course, she relents finally—read the book to find out why and how this happens—and all is well. The kicker for me was my daughter’s take on the book. Frances puts together a very elaborate lunch kit with all kinds of special “props” and thoroughly enjoys eating many different foods. So Wendy told me she needed certain things for her lunch. We found a little vase of silk flowers ($1.50), a soft napkin that had been my grandmother’s (Wendy used it for a placemat), a smaller matching napkin (she used as an actual napkin), a salt and pepper shaker meant for camping (it all fit together into one piece), a cute lunch box with a thermos (for hot dogs or soup), and individual containers
for various foods. It took her so long to set everything up each day that she barely had time to eat—but oh, boy, was she happy! When she went to second grade, the props were retired with the vase getting a special spot on the knick-knack shelf in her bedroom.
We had a computer program called Story Weaver (I think that’s what it was called -- my memory is fading a bit). The idea was to write a story and illustrate it with the clip art included in the program. There were several story starters, too, and sometimes all three of my kids used the same one to create wildly different tales. No color printers in those days, so they spent a lot of time coloring with crayons and markers the pictures they designed for each story. I put them all in a binder and gave it to the grandparents for Christmas. It is a well-loved book to this day, not just enjoyed by me and my parents, but also by the many cousins who came along after my children were born. It held a place of honor in my parents’ home for many years.
Prior to Story Weaver, I helped my children write stories to give as gifts to their
grandparents for birthdays and mother’s/father’s days. These had titles like “A Day in the Life” or “My Kitten” and I wrote down their words exactly as they dictated. They were young—3 and 4—when we started but soon they were able to do their own writing, complete with invented spelling. My youngest daughter also used inventive spelling to write notes to her best friend after they had a fight. She would carefully compose her letter and march down to Sarah’s house and present it with a flourish. She would usually have to read it to Sarah because her handwriting was pretty much illegible. But the sentiment was clear: “I m sre. Com bck pls. love Molly.”
Now my grandson is writing poetry, sparked by a lesson at school, and encouraged by an internet site he found (on his own) called AllPoetry.com. To post a poem, you have to review a poem so he is not only learning how to give feedback but he is getting kudos for his efforts in composing poetry. He says he wants to be a poet when he grows up. His father (my son!) told him, "You can be a poet right now." And he is.
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