Nelly Gnu and Daddy Too by Anna Dewdney

Nelly Gnu and Daddy Too by Anna Dewdney

Rating: 4.5 stars

Llama llama was a tradition in our family.  Each sweet child of mine would go through a phase where that was ALL she or he wanted to read at night.  I read the little board books to them as babies, and the rhyme must have seeped into their brains, because around age two and a half each located Llama Llama Red Pajama and Llama Llama Misses Mama on our messy bookshelves.  I read Llama Llama Holiday Drama, regardless of the season.

And now, a new tradition: one that involves not a little boy llama and his mom, but a little girl gnu and her dad.  I really like that.  There's no secret that a grown girl's confidence has a whole heck of a lot to do with her dad (thanks, Dad, for all the love and time you poured into me!).  If, like us, you are a fan of Llama Llama, you'll love this one just as much. The same quick, pleasing rhyme and the same heart-warming, sweet illustrations are there to greet you on every page.

What's the story about?  Nelly Gnu and her dad spend the afternoon together, making a cardboard house together--they shop for materials, construct it, and paint it together.  Like all good stories (and, like all of Anna Dewdney's Llama Llama books), it does have a problem--Nelly Gnu gets lost in the hardware store--that is quickly resolved.  But that's not the highlight of this book.  This book is good and sweet because of the bond between father and daughter that we get to see and hopefully it inspires a few of us to spend a little more time with our daughters (and sons!).

But before you buy or check out this book, you might just might want to pronounce gnu.  I mean, we all would prefer teach our children the correct pronunciations of words, right?  Despite the fact that my husband insists that he heard "Ga-new" while in Kenya a decade or so ago, this pronunciation guide suggests that the G is silent:

Very Tricky, Alfie Atkins by Gunilla Bergstrom

Very Tricky, Alfie Atkins by Gunilla Bergstrom

Rating: 4 stars

I like this Alfie Atkins character.  He wants his father to play with him, but his father is busy reading the paper.  Seizing the opportunity of a distracted parent, his request to play with his father's tool box is granted. But not the saw!  That's dangerous.  So Alfie builds (with the other not-so-dangerous tools) a box around himself, and pretends he can't get out.

He tells his father: hand me the saw and I can get myself out, or come rescue me.  His father MUST now put down his paper and play with him, much to his son's delight.


I don't know how this book ended up in our library bag--the beloved Grammy was along for the pre-vacation library trip (we checked out 47 books), but it definitely strikes a chord in me.  Years ago, I added yet another very random, unhelpful in any career whatsoever, totally paid nothing job.  And had a blast.  I was the head wrangler at a summer camp in Nowheresville, Washington.  I was in charge of a dozen horses, one other person (a gal who showed up in heels from Australia) and the whole little riding program, which didn't account to much.


On the first day of camp after they jumped from their parents still-moving vehicles onto the campgrounds and had their heads checked for lice, the kids were thrown into different groups to play together before they settled in for dinner.  My job was always to play soccer with about half of the kids.  Together with a Peter Pan-like guy from Australia who is probably still immature in a super endearing way, we played with the kids.


That's it.  We just played with them.  We were in charge, sure, but...hardly.  It was such a lesson for me--put things aside, and just join in.  It was a great way to start the week, and I definitely apply that invaluable lesson everyday here at my home.  Just today Ben walked in to the kitchen while I was fixing Kiefer's lunch and asked: "Will you be a firefighter with me, Mommy?"


You betcha!

Suddenly the steam from the chicken was a fire, and we pretended that some random spatula was a hose and we were putting the fire out.  When that was no longer exciting, I asked him to teach me what to do if I was on fire, and they thought it was pretty funny watching me stop, drop, and roll.

Really I was just stop, dropping, and playing, of course.

But the book talks about fathers playing with their kids, and that's a whole other thing.  My husband is so tired and exhausted and stressed that when the kids do finally convince him to play they are beyond delighted.  It's what their faces would look like if we ever were nice enough to take them to Disneyworld.  It's sad for me to watch, because they are so fun and his intentions I think are good, but...  Pretty soon they'll be more into their friends than me and him, so, I'll be stop, dropping, and playing as much as I can in the next few years.  And forcing others around me to do the same!

All that other stuff can wait.

Piggy and Dad Go Fishing by David Martin, illustrated by Frank Remkiewicz

Piggy and Dad Go Fishing by David Martin, illustrated by Frank Remkiewicz

Rating: 3.5 stars

You would have been amused if you were a fly on the wall when I read this to Lorelei and Ben.

In the story, Piggy is thrilled to finally go fishing with his father.  So he digs up some worms and trots off behind his piggy pop.  They get lakeside and pop tells son: bait the hook.

Enter the conversation with Lorelei and Ben: "What does 'bait' mean, Mommy?"  Hmmm.  So I explain, honestly, that you stick the worm on the hook and cast him into the water in order to lure the fish over to the hook.  Then the fish has to look at the worm and say, "I want to eat him for lunch!" and go awwwgph!* and chomp on the hook. And then you can pull the fish up and say, "I want to eat him for lunch!"  I like this explanation, though a little concerned that they'll  be concerned about how worms really get the raw end of the deal.

But they are satisfied with my explanation, so I move on.

Piggy tries to drape the smiley worm over the hook.  He slides off.  Piggy tries to tie the smiley worm in a knot around the hook.  He slides off.  His father gently explains that you're going to have to "poke the hook into the worm."  Piggy looks at the smiley worm, then at his father.  "Let's use bread instead."

WHAT?!  I just explained that whole bait thing for no reason?!  Man.

So they use bread as bait and fall asleep waiting (sometimes it bothers me how stereotypes are both reflected and made in children's books...).  Then a fish bites and they reel it in.  Piggy is excited.

Enter the conversation with Lorelei and Ben: "What are they going to do with the fish, Mommy?"  Hmmm.  Well, they are going to eat him.  When we eat our salmon and our meat, it's because they've been caught for us to eat.  (Inside, I'm crossing my fingers and toes and begging them not to become vegetarians.  My menu challenges would be unbearable.)

And then Piggy looks at the smiley fish and...throws him back.

WHAT?!?  I just explained how we kill animals for meals for no reason?!  MAN!

In the end, Piggy and Dad decide to go "feed-the-fish fishing," where they ball up pieces of bread from their sandwiches, throw them in, and watch the fish chomp on them happily.  The next day they bring the fish donuts.

A slightly exasperating read for me, personally, but now that I've given you a head's up you won't have such a hard time.  You're welcome.



* What onomatopoeia is appropriate to describe the sound of a fish eating a worm off a hook?  I am stumped.  Feel free to add your own if you're so inclined.

Tyrannosaurus Dad by Liz Rosenberg, illustrated by Matthew Myers

Tyrannosaurus Dad by Liz Rosenberg, illustrated by Matthew Myers

Rating: 2.5 stars

Here's the story: A normal boy has a Tyrannosaurus Rex for a father (nope, they never explain why, and yup, I wondered, too).  The Tyrannosaurus Dad is a work-a-holic; the boy wants him to participate in his school's field day so hints a million hints about his father's attendance.  His father is seemingly oblivious but, on the actual day steps in out of nowhere to break up a fight and serve as the ump for a baseball game.  Everyone is, of course, immediately on their best behavior, the boy is excited to see his father there, and his father assures him "family first, work can wait."

Okay, fine story line, though how a kid has a dinosaur for a dad is curious to me.  Oh, and...where's the mom?  Great pictures, though there are some with some really mean looking kids in them.

But there are some lines in here that I do not want my kids to repeat.  And of course my opinion of this book went a bit downhill when I heard Lorelei repeat one of those lines to me.  "The next time I see you better be never!" she exclaimed proudly to no one in particular this morning.

"I'll ump!" thundered an unexpected voice.  The kids had to
look up to see where the voice was coming from.
Way, way up.

Hmm.  Anyone who knows sweet Lorelei will probably laugh, because this is something that is completely the opposite of who she really is.  I'm still trying to wrap my head around it (not that I like that saying, but...that's what came out of my fingers right now, so...there you go).  As a super competitive type myself, maybe I'd be okay if she said that while passing someone the final lap of a race?  Would it be okay if she said it while shaking her fist at some guy who thought he could outsmart her?  I admit that there's a glimpse of "yes" in my answers...  But as a 5 year old, I'm just not ready for to be sassy.  Or as sarcastic as me.  I've had three decades to warm up!

This is not the book I'd like to read this Father's Day.  I'd like to keep my kids in a not-sarcastic, not-mean bubble as long as I can.  Maybe in a few years I will appreciate it more.  And, ironically, we'll be going to a baseball game on Sunday...I wonder if the kids will expect a dinosaur to umpire??!

Pink Me Up by Charise Mericle Harper

Pink Me Up by Charise Mericle Harper

Rating: 5 stars

Just in time for Father's Day...

I was a bit worried about this book when I saw the cover.  You guessed it: a lot of pink.  And on the pages, pink, pink, pink.  This little bunny (who is one of nine bunny children, the last, and the only girl) is like almost every little girl I know: pink-obsessed.  So she's pretty stoked to be invited to a Pink Girls Pink-nic.  Of course you have to wear pink and you have to bring your mom, and of course SHE has to wear pink, too.

Holy Pink-ness, Batman!

She gets her pinkest of all pink outfits ready and hops around the room, shouting "PINK!" over and over again.  She gets her mom's outfit ready.  And she wakes up her mom who has pink...SPOTS!  Oh no!  Her mom is sick.  But her dad volunteers to go.

But that can't be!  He's a boy, and he can't wear pink.  Her dad searches in his (not-so-pink) closet and finds: One.  Pink.  Tie.  And then he does the best thing a daddy he can do--he just hands himself over to his daughter and lets her "pink him up."  Together, they draw pink polka dots on one of his shirts, they tape pink stripes on some of his pants, they wrap his shoes in pink wrapping paper, and put pink stickers all over his jacket.  They decide he should NOT wear mom's pink skirt on his head like a wig (smart choice.  There are limits, you know).  And then the pink-y dad goes out in public, unashamed, with his daughter in tow.

And they have a fantastic time.  Of course!  Now, if we could just get Lorelei's Daddy to agree to let her pink him up!  I promise only to take one picture.  Okay, maybe two.  Or three...