Tuesday's Poem: Up and Down

Down and Up

Touch knees is down.

Touch feet is down.

Touch ground

is reach

way down.

Hop hop is up.

Jump high is up.

Touch sky

is reach

way up.

Mouth goes down

and

mouth goes up.

Frowns go down

and

smiles go up.

Touch knees.

Touch feet.

Touch ground.

Hop hop.

Jump high.

Touch sky

and smile,

smile,

smile.

                          Anne Knowles

Tuesday's Poem: Tall People Talk

Words, Words, Words

Tall people talk

Not very clear;

Yiklety yaklety

Fills up my ears.

I'm way down here;

Talk's way up there.

Peoplety talklety

Fills up the air.

                       Anne Knowles

SOME BOOK: Go-to-Sleep Picture Books

SLEEPYTIME ME

Written by Edith Hope Fine
Illustrated by Christopher Denise

I love this book.  I love any book that will get my toddler grandson to start yawning and rubbing his eyes.  The sounds of "sh" and the two sounds of "s" are my best friends forever.  So is the word "yawn."  In one 4-line stanza alone there are two "sh" sounds, six "s" sounds, and two "s" sounds that sound like "z."  The word "yawn" is my other best friend forever.  It's totally in this book.   And--you guessed it--I'm yawning right now.

Illustrations are peaceful sunset, dusk, and night images.  From sky, nature, farm, town to home and bed, the greens, blues, golds, and moon-white colors are calming, soothing, and perfect for the text.

GOOD NIGHT, GOOD NIGHT, CONSTRUCTION SITE

Written by Sherri Duskey Rinker

Illustrated by Tom Lichtenheld

 The title of this book forced me pick it up, take it to the cashier, and hand over my Visa card.  Truth!  The rhythmic and rhyming text helps toddlers settle down.  The illustrations move from sunset to dusk to dark using soothing colors.

I have one issue with the book--as I do with many cartoons, children's movies, ad infinitum, ad nauseam.  All of the vehicles are male.  Girls like construction sites and vehicles, too.  I was always charmed by cement mixers as a little girl.  It's an open-up-your-mind vehicle that moves in a straight line on wheels that are rolling in circles, with a gigantic barrel full of wet cement turning and turning at right angles to the direction the wheels turn.  Now that's physics for a little girl or boy.   In short, female trucks would be out-of-this-word awesome.

DON'T LET THE PIGEON STAY UP LATE

Written and Illustrated by Mo Willems

Muted, calming colors and text that is playful, funny, and charming.  Willems' pigeon books are a blast.  By the end of the book, I've read the word "yawn" so many times that reading is a challenge.  I'm yawning on each page.  So is the kid.

GOOD NIGHT MOON

Written by Margaret Wise Brown
Illustrated by Clement Hurd

Of course!  Of course!  Of course!  I was 18 months old when this classic was published.  We're in our late sixties and both of us are doing well.

WARNING:  For Adults Only

GO THE F**K TO SLEEP

Prayers are answered.  Kid's asleep.  You're weary and half bald from pulling out your hair.  This is a go-to-sleep book that understands you, forgives the unholy language that hovered in the background of your read-out-loud voice, and gives you a free membership card in the billion-strong club called "Time to Put the Toddler to Bed."  What can you do but laugh about the genius-level machinations of a don't-want-to-go-to-bed toddler.

Thanks for stopping by.  I'm off to take a nap.  

 

 

Tuesday's Poem: With Nothing at All

With Nothing at All

I can have fun with nothing at all:

Skip, jump, or roll in a ball;

Hop, spin, or race down the hall;

Make up a story; make up a song;

Make up a cow fifty-feet long;

Make up a friend twenty-times strong;

Wonder if stars are hot or cold;

Wonder if circles like to be rolled;

Wonder if numbers do as they're told;

Duck waddle-waddle, or snail-slow crawl;

Seed sprout rise, or leaf twirly fall;

I can have fun with nothing at all.

                                        Anne Knowles

SOME BOOK: Everywhere Babies

Holiday book or baby shower idea:  Everywhere Babies by Susan Meyers.  Illustrations are by Marla Frazier.

No preaching.  No moralizing.  Simply the acceptance through words and illustrations that each one of us is normal and that all kinds of family relationships are normal.  Children can find themselves in the book.  That makes it SOME BOOK.

Everywhere Babies is recommended for 6 months to 3 years.  I'd recommend it for newborns to 3 years.  Babies need to hear written language from the very beginning.  The text is spare and rhythmic, and it's fun to read.

Monday's Poem: All of Me Tall

All of Me Tall

I'm not small,

Not small at all.

From the down of me

To the up of me,

I'm all-of-me tall.

                             Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: On the Other Side of Broken Me

On the Other Side of Broken Me

On the other side of broken me,

I see what I am going to be.

A doctor, a nurse, a strawberry grower,

A builder, an artist, a round-the-world goer.

Hitting a ball or walking on Mars,

Cooking or swimming or fixing up cars.

Fighting a fire, singing, teaching,

Caring for animals, writing, or preaching.

Anything!  Anything!  Something I love!

Rocks or math or turtle doves.

Anything!  Anything I want to be!

Hiking the hills or sailing on seas.

On the other side of broken me,

Someone is calling to broken me.

I'm listening.  It's me!  It's me calling me!

I'm telling myself to keep holding tight,

To follow myself with all of my might.

                                     Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: April

April

Peeking up daffodils,

Stretching down roots,

Seeds seeking sunshine,

Muddy puddly boots.

Melting snow in gutters,

Puddle jumping fun,

Fluttering by butterflies,

Hide and seek sun.

                           Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: March

March

Lion

Wind roars.

Branches clack swords.

Dark clouds twirl, swirl.

Sky blusters and rain flusters.

Sun wakes up and seeds wake up.

New grass whispers green.

Wispy, white clouds

Amble like

Lambs.

                                 Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: The Hopping Girl

THE HOPPING GIRL

The hopping girl lives

just 'round the bend.

She's my very, very

very, very

very best friend.

She hops when she walks,

always right right left.

She's my merry, merry,

merry, merry,

merry best friend.

It's always right hop right

and only then comes left.

She's my right, right,

left, right,

right best friend.

                         Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: Lady Left Behind

Lady Left Behind

I have a doll with one arm.

She's lovely, soft, and kind.

I found her in an alley.

She's Lady Left Behind.

Somebody didn't want her;

I feel that way sometimes.

I hug her tight and she hugs me,

My Lady Left Behind.

Most other dolls are perfect.

My doll and I don't mind.

I love her so and she loves me,

Dear Lady Left Behind.

                             Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: The Ruler of Once Again

The Ruler of Once Again

for Scott

I'm learning my life

All over again,

All rough, tough,

And over again,

To get to the Place of Before.

I'm scared and I hurt

All over again,

All every new day,

All here-comes-the sun,

But here I go again.

I am the ruler,

The don't give-up ruler,

The strong, strong,

Keep-going ruler,

The Ruler of Once again.

                                Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: Friendship

Friendship

A piece of yellow cornbread

arrived at five for tea,

in a hat of buttered honey

looking silly as could be.

My friend and I both giggled,

but politely said, "Sit down."

"I'd rather not be eaten,"

whispered Cornbread with a frown.

We really were quite hungry,

but we'd made a brand new friend.

We nibbled air, and swallowed dreams,

and had the best pretend.

                                      Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: Papa Sled

Papa Sled

Papa Sled slides

over kitchen floor snow;

we ride on his back,

and we don't slide slow.

Papa Sled swooshes

up white frozen hills

and swings to the right.

Oops!  Sister took a spill.

Papa sled swishes

down steep, slippery hills

and leans to the left.

Oops!  Brother took a spill.

Papa sled rushes

up and down, left and right;

I'm still on the sled.

I'm hanging on tight.

Snowmama steps

over Papa Sled's head

with a steaming hot loaf

of homemade bread.

Snowmama sings,

"There's hot, creamy soup,"

and we all take our places

at the table with a "Whoop!"

                                   Anne Knowles