Author: brookeshelf

Every Good Boy Does Ritalin

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So, the big news around here lately is that Jeffrey has been officially diagnosed with ADHD.  We’ve suspected it for a while, but until recently it was difficult to separate symptoms of the disorder with the usual abberations of early childhood behavior. 

We had him psychologically profiled when he was five, and even tried a short run of Adderol, but it had no apparent effect, which is common for very young children taking Adderol.  He couldn’t try any other medications because he, at the time, could not swallow pills.

Since entering first grade, things have been rough for Jeffrey at school.  He couldn’t follow directions, he couldn’t sit still long enough to listen to a story.  When doing math, he would forget what number he was counting to in the middle of solving a problem.  Within the first week of school, I was notified that Jeffrey was occupying almost all of the student teacher’s time.

His teacher — who is amazing, and I’m very thankful we landed in her class — has taken great pains to help with Jeff’s behavior, but by the halfway point of the year, things were bad.  Jeffrey was old enough to realize that he was falling behind his classmates, he couldn’t seem to control the problem.

“Focus!” he would yell at me.  “I need to focus, Mom!”  He pounded the sides of his head with his palms, gritting his teeth.

Then he began acting out in class (which surprised everybody), and would come home so frustrated that he would throw his backpack down a window well before coming inside.  I began getting phone calls from the school, and there didn’t seem to be anything I could do about it.  Jeffrey wasn’t intentionally doing these things; he hardly seemed aware that he was in La La Land 90% of the time.

After a lot of tears and hair-pulling, I decided to take him to our doctor and give medication another go-round. 

Our first attempt was with Concerta, but this unfortunately caused Jeffrey to have a manic episode (he came home talking a mile a minute, biting his cheeks, and so dizzy that he couldn’t eat).  This terrified me, and I felt terrible.

After that terrifyingness, we switched to Ritalin, and his teachers have noticed significant differences in his behavior.  For the first time ever, he was coming home with his worksheets filled out, with words written legibly (instead of clusters of random letters scattered about the page).  He was able to pay attention during classroom read-aloud time (instead of wandering off to play with toys).  Best of all, his teacher arranged for him to take his standardized tests one-on-one with an administrator, and he scored above expectations in every category!

Yessss!  He’s a really intelligent kid, but it’s difficult for people to see that when he can’t line up in a row like all the other good boys and girls.  His teacher called me immediately when she got Jeffrey’s scores, and we were both practically jumping up and down together. 

However, it isn’t a miracle cure.  Jeffrey still spends most of his time at church chewing on his shoelaces and rolling on the floor, and piano lessons are as much of a trial as ever.  But he’s starting to see himself as a kid who can make good, and that’s a very big thing.

Valentine’s Day Weekend at Zion’s National Park

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The kids had a four day weekend over President’s Day, so we decided to head down south and take advantage of the mild winter weather and cheap hotel rates.  (Really.  A place called the Bumbleberry Inn gave us a room for $45 a night.  Wowsers.)

Highs were in the low 60s, and it was great to shed our coats and go “walking in the top of the mountains,” as William had been begging to do.

Best of all, it wasn’t overbearingly crowded.  In summertime, Zion Canyon feels like an amusement park, with hikers shuffling through on each other’s heels.  During our winter stay the park wasn’t anything near empty, but it was uncrowded enough to give us some nice solitude on our hikes.  Brian has declared that he never wants to visit Zion again in the summertime.  Hear, hear.

The downside of the warm weather was muddy trails.  But Eleanor found this rather thrilling.  She purposely trod through the thickest, stickiest ruts, singing “Mud!  Mud!  Mud!  Mud!” at the top of her lungs. 

She was such a good little hiker — halfway through our first hike, she turned to us and cried, “Do you know what?  I haven’t whined a single time during this hike!”  It was true, she hadn’t; Brian and I hadn’t even realized it before she pointed it out.  After that, whenever she was about to get cranky on the trail, we reminded her of how she didn’t whine, and she quieted down.

Mud!  Mud!  Mud!  Everyone’s shoes got a nice little coat, as if we’d all been dancing in a bottle of Burnt Ochre.

One of the trails we chose had a lot of spur trails and no directional markers, so we ended up going the wrong way, all the way to the top of one of the little valleys in the Court of the Patriarchs.  It was still beautiful, even if the trail eventually disappeared. 

Jeffrey loved the Emerald Pools, so much so that he did not heed our warnings about hiking with wet shoes.  Alas and alack.

Brian’s dad, Randy, joined us for the Emerald Pools hike (he had caravanned down with us, in order to visit extended family in Cedar City) and was invaluble when it came to holding children’s hands on the steep parts of the trail.  At one point, he was occupied holding both William and Eleanor’s hands, and an older, white-haired gentleman who passed us took the time to tell Randy that “you should enjoy them when they are so young like this — they grow up so fast!”  Apparently, the white-haired man was under the impression that Randy was the children’s father!  Randy decided to take it as a compliment to be taken for a 32-year-old, although when we later bumped into that white-haired man again, he took care to say “Come along, grandchildren” in as distinct a voice as possible.

The only real challenge to the trip was finding places to eat for dinner.  Most of the cheap restaurants in Springdale were closed for the season, or only serving lunch.  But a exploratory drive to Hurricane revealed a Chinese buffet place that was, we thought, a perfect way to ring in the Year of the Tiger.  Plus, they had Jell-O.  You haven’t really lived, cuisine-wise, until you’ve watched your seven-year-old try to eat Jell-O with chopsticks.

In the evenings, we holed up in our hotel and watched the Olympics while munching on microwave popcorn.  I don’t know if we got very much rest, sleeping all together in the same room, but we certainly returned to Salt Lake feeling much less stressed.

It Made Me Want to Ride a Tauntaun

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Two weeks ago we made the trek up to Midway to see the ice castle that’s been making a lot of local news.  It’s a series of towers built using an underground sprinkler system, hoses, PVC pipe, and loads of ingenuity.  It was absolutely beautiful, even if it unforunately caused me to get “Theme from Ice Castles (Through the Eyes of Love)” stuck in my head.  You know:

Pleeeeease, don’t let this feeling eeeeeeend . . .

I’ll spare you the rest.

This tower had a tunnel going through it, which I think is impressive as all get out.

The towers were built by Brent Christensen, a local businessman who has no background in art but is pretty darn amazing anyway.  He was inspired to make these towers after he saw the results of a broken sprinkler head spraying water into long icicles on someone’s lawn.  The building began back in November, and he’s still working on them — even on the day we were there, he was climbing on top of the towers, fusing icicles together and tinkering with water systems.  It’s gorgeous work, I hope he does it again next year!

So how long do you think it will take to melt come spring?

Orange Rolls

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I hosted a Soup Party at my house this past weekend — everyone who came brought a different kind of soup, and I provided crusty bread and dessert.

For dessert, I decided a nice contrast to soup would be tasty orange rolls.  For some reason, my brain had forgotten that everyone would be filled up with the aforementioned crusty bread, and then we’d be following that up with more bread.

But nobody seemed to care.  In fact, they all requested the recipe, so here it is.  It’s adapted from a (badly written) recipe I clipped out of Cooking Light years ago.  The dough is rich but tender, enriched with a little butter and sour cream, and the glaze is unusual — a orange-flavored sugar syrup that is tempered with more sour cream.  It’s advised that you consume these sticky treats with a fork.

Orange Rolls

For the dough:

  • 1 3/4 tsp. instant yeast*
  • 1/2 cup warm water
  • 1/4 cup sugar
  • 1/2 cup reduced-fat sour cream (do not use fat-free)
  • 2 Tbs. butter
  • 1 tsp. salt
  • 1 egg
  • 3 cups flour, plus more for dusting while kneading

For the filling:

  • grated zest from one orange
  • 3/4 cup sugar
  • 2 Tbs. butter, melted and cooled (this is for brushing on the dough before sprinkling on the filling)

For the glaze:

  • 1/4 cup plus 2 Tbs. sugar
  • 2 Tbs. butter
  • squeezed juice from half of one orange (the one you just zested for the filling)
  • 1/4  cup reduced-fat sour cream (again, do not use fat-free, it tastes like plastic)

To make the dough, combine yeast, water, sugar, sour cream, butter, salt, egg, and ONE cup of the flour in a mixer and beat until smooth.  Add remaining 2 cups of flour and mix until a soft dough forms, about 5 minutes.  Turn out onto a floured board and knead until smooth and elastic, adding extra flour to keep the dough from sticking to your hands.  Place dough in a greased bowl and cover, then let rise until doubled in size (about 1 hour 15 minutes).  While the dough rises, combine the sugar and orange zest for the filling (do not add the butter!). 

When dough has risen, punch it down and turn it out onto a board (I like to use a clean cutting board coated with cooking spray to prevent sticking).  Spray a 9″x13″ baking pan with cooking spray.

Divide dough in half; roll out one half into a rectangle, approx. 8″x10″ (I actually have no idea what size the dough was, I’m just estimating).  Brush the rectangle with 1 Tbs. of the melted butter, and sprinkle half of the zest/sugar mixture on top.  Beginning at the short end, roll up the dough into a big log, pinching the seam to seal it.  Cut the log into about eight rolls and place spiral-side up into the baking pan.  Repeat with the other half of the dough, using remaining butter and filling.  You may have to cut the second log of dough into only 7 rolls; I’ve never been able to fit more than 15 rolls in a pan.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.  Cover the rolls with plastic wrap and let rise in a warm spot for 25 minutes or until doubled in size.  When ready, bake the rolls for 25 minutes or until golden brown. 

While the rolls bake, prepare the glaze: Combine sugar, butter, and orange juice in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.  Cook for 3 minutes, or until sugar dissolves.  Remove from heat, let cool slightly, and stir in sour cream.  Drizzle glaze over warm rolls; let cool for 20 minutes before serving.

*Note: You can substitute the instant yeast with 2 1/4 teaspoons dry-active yeast.  Just proof it in the warm water with a pinch of sugar before combining it with the other ingredients.

The Top Children’s Fiction Poll

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The lovely Ms. Bird at A Fuse #8 Production is undertaking the massive effort of conducting a poll of the best children’s novels of all time.  Each person is only allowed to submit his or her top ten (only ten!) and since there are far too many books that I consider The Best, I’ve decided to manipulate the scoring system and choose books that I think might need some extra points.

So: no Charlotte’s Web, no Bridge to Terabithia, no Little House in the Big Woods, and no Alice in Wonderland.  But plenty of other titles that I’m sure you’ll agree are rather wonderful.

From least to greatest:

10. Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild.  I ask you:  in this day and age, where else can you find a book about a girl who performs in a ballet of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by night and is an budding mechanic and aviatrix by day?  Nowhere, that’s what.  And it’s precisely because of Petrova Fossil that this book has maintained its high levels of awesome over the years.

9. Daddy Long-Legs by Jean Webster.  Long before today’s batch of “novels with cartoons,” the world was blessed with the ficticious illustrated letters of Judy Abbot’s adventures at college, circa 1912.  Part of this novel’s lasting charm is its revelation that, in some ways, college students haven’t changed that much over the years.  For example: Judy and her friends stay up late in the dorms debating over whether or not it would be possible to swim through a pool filled with lemon-flavored Jell-O.  Add pizza and and a Che Guevara poster to that scene, and you see what I mean.

8. The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope.  It’s the Tam Lin legend imagined as a gothic suspense tale set in Elizabethan England, complete with a secret underground cult, a Fairy Queen, and toxic super-freakouts.  Oh, and Christopher Heron, one of the most swoon-worthy fictional lads this side of Shakespeare.

7. Cheaper by the Dozen by Frank B. Gilbreth, Jr. and Ernestine Gilbreth Carey.  Yes, it has its problematic chapters that have not aged well, but the trials and travails of the Gilbreths, their twelve children, and their glorious, glorious efficiency-expert childrearing methods still makes this one of the funniest children’s books ever written.  Oh, and did I mention that I myself am the oldest of five children?  It’s nice to have Ernestine to relate to when you discover that your little brother has put peanut butter in your hairbrush again.

6. The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett.  Porridge and rope skipping and fountains of roses and a wild boy from the moor who can practically talk to animals!  It’s frequently touted as the “most satisfying” children’s book ever written, and you have to respect any novel that takes a traditional gothic setting (waifish orphan in deep dark mansion with mysterious wails) and morphs it into a heartwarming family story.  It’s had scads of imitators ever since, and no surprise.

5. The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster.  I’d like to know how many kids developed a full-fledged love of wordplay from this book.  There’s something that makes you feel so smart and clever when reading about jumping to Confusions, literally eating your own words, and sparring wits with the Spelling Bee and Canby.  And you gotta love the Watchdog.

4. The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley.  Is it children’s lit. or YA?  Folks, it’s a Newbery winner.  A Newbery winner in which the heroine kills a dragon by driving her sword into its eye until she’s up to her armpit in brains.  ‘Nuff said.

3. From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsburg.  Ahh, yes.  The book that has warped the way I view museums forevermore.  Now when I look at rare antique furniture, I think “would that be a good place to sleep?” and fountains are often eyed as potential sources of income.  Bathrooms?  Completely and thoroughly judged for their ability to hide me from security staff.  Look at what you’ve done, Ms. Konigsburg.  Look and despair.

2. The 13 Clocks by James Thurber.  Back off, Princess Bride.  This here’s probably the original “fractured fairy tale.”   The story includes an evil Duke who sports both a glass eye, an eye patch, and a sword cane; man-eating geese; a prince-disguised-as-a-minstrel (or is it the other way ’round?); the magic roses of Princess Saralinda; and the lovable Golux with his “indescribable hat.”  Add to that a heaping helping of classic Thurberean asides (“I sent eleven guards to kill the prince.”  “But the prince is as strong as ten men.”  “So that means there will be one left to finish him off!”) and you can easily see why Neil Gaiman has declared it to be “probably the best book in the world.”

1. Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery.  Pretty much the gold standard for historical fiction with a dreamy-eyed, book-loving firebrand of a protagonist whose imagination gets her up to no good.  You can’t throw a rock into a library without hitting a host of Anne wannabes.  And it’s also possible that you can’t throw a rock into a children’s literature conference without hitting a passel of ladies who ARE Anne Shirley.  It’s not just a book, it’s a lifestyle.  Plus, I have to respect any character with a compulsive drive to emphasize the silent e at the end of her name.  (Did I mention my name was Brooke-with-an-e?)

Made of Awesome

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For most of this month, my city has been living in the winter hell that is locally known as “the inversion.”

If you’re lucky enough to not know what this means, let me fill you in: a high pressure system — aka a layer of warm air — thwops down on top of the Salt Lake valley, slamming like a Tupperware lid to trap all the air below inside.  Every cow fart, truck exhaust, cough and sneeze just swirls around inside, leading to what’s officially known as the country’s worst air pollution. 

We had a case of this that lasted for almost a month.  Yargh.  But a few days ago a storm system swept in, scrubbed the sky clean, and suddenly there was BLUE SKY!  And we could SEE the mountains our city is famous for!  And I was allowed to let my children play outside again!

In celebration of this, I’d like to make a list of other things from this month that come from the land that is Made of Awesome:

  • My sister in law, Deb, has compiled her list of the top twenty albums of 2009.  Those of you who participated in my Mix Exchange a few years ago know that this woman has excellent taste.  So fire up your iTunes account, and get hoppin’.
  • If you’ve ignored Twitter up until now, you may want to reconsider for a chance to read HalfPintIngalls.  Its author writes in the voice of Laura Ingalls Wilder, with her tongue stuffed firmly in her cheek.  It’s snarky, clever, and has posts like this, from Jan 1st:

In New York the ball drops at midnight. In De Smet the blacksmith drops his anvil from the feed store hayloft. It’s really quite a sight!

  • The local drug, Stephen’s Gourmet Hot Cocoa, has come out with a Peanut Butter Cup flavor this year.  It has chopped up bits of peanut butter cups in the cocoa mix.  This means that when you are finished sipping it down, you are left with an incredible salty-sweet layer of peanut butter sludge at the bottom of your cup. 
  • The Baby Name Wizard Blog.  No, I’m not expecting, but these little tidbits on the history and context of baby names is nerdy-cool fascinating.
  • Jeffrey has requested that I write the word Yipe! in extra-large font, and I just realized that I haven’t the foggiest clue how to do that in WordPress.  He then commanded that I stop blogging and turn on a game for him.  “Come on Mom!  DOWNLOG me!” 
  • Americabowl.net.  I read about this in The New Yorker.  It puts all 44 American presidents up against all 44 Super Bowls in the weirdest, funniest mashup of history I’ve seen in a while.  (So far the Presidents are up by three points!)
  • My family had our portraits taken by a local photographer over the holidays.  Check out the sweet results:

  • And lastly, for those of you who are mighty sick of New Moon, I present the best Collie dog with human lips I’ve ever seen:

Comparative Religion

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Jeffrey and Eleanor came out of Primary (our church’s version of Sunday School) eager to show off the pictures they had made:

Eleanor’s is on top, if you couldn’t guess from the pink.  She says it’s a picture of her and Jesus holding hands.  (Awwww.)  This is the first time I’ve seen her draw hearts, so I was duly impressed.  Also note the generous bellybuttons in both figures.  Eleanor always puts bellybuttons in her pictures of people, “because,” she says, “you would look really weird if you didn’t have one.”  True that.

Jeffrey’s drawing is on the bottom.  I couldn’t figure out what it was, so I asked him for a description. 

“It’s the cycle of Jesus’ life,” he explained.  “First he was born in a temple, here,” (he pointed to the big grey building which does indeed look like a temple) “and then he spoke to Joseph Smith, who is holding a sign that says ‘REPENT REPENT REPENT.’  Then he died, and a big volcano,” (pointing to the big red triangle) “erupted and sent him off into heaven” (the cloudlike scribble).  “Then it begins all over again.”

Wow. 

Although I’m sure that Jeffrey knows that Christ was born in a manger in Bethlehem, etc. (for crying out loud, Christmas was just LAST MONTH), I would give good money to have a printout of what goes on in Jeffrey’s brain during Sharing Time.  I think he has a tendency to embellish whatever he’s learning about with his own imaginative prowess.  He’s got reincarnation, Evangelicalism, and possibly volcano worship all blended together there.  It’s rare that Jeffrey spends time drawing — he really didn’t begin making representational pictures until almost the end of kindergarten — so I was pretty excited about this.  Look at the arrows!  Cool!

Snow Days

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Remember how Brian made snow sculptures of dinosaurs last year?  Well, this year he’s doing large African mammals.

Behold the mighty lion!  It is seated among the remains of the elephant sculpture he made a few weeks ago.  Like it’s feasting on its carcass or something.  Mmm!

And the thing de resistance — a towering giraffe!  There are no structural supports inside of it.  All snow, all the way through. 

He had to use a ladder to build up the neck, and the head fell off twice before he found one that stuck.  I especially like the way it looks as if it were nibbling on the tree. 

Today the snow was wet once more, and Brian made a snowrilla.  There’s no word on whether or not it plans to snatch up Eleanor and climb a skyscraper.

Initially, we couldn’t decide if the yard need this gorilla, or a snow rhino.  I argued that a rhino would fall apart too quickly (big heavy head) whereas Brian said a gorilla wasn’t visually interesting.  In the middle of this discussion, Jeffrey scampered through the room and shouted, “Why not a rhinocerous with a gorilla riding on TOP of it?”  But Brian asserted creative control over the project.

Just like the dinosaurs, the snow critters are causing a lot of slowed traffic and picture-taking on our street.  Almost every day my work in our front room is interrupted by some sort of flash going off.  But what we’re really excited about is that other kids in the neighborhood have begun building their own snow creations.  The two girls who helped us with the elephants have made a little bear and duck in their yard, and the family around the corner have constructed a big robot and a series of redrock-inspired arches.  Yesss! 

What’s really amazing is that both of these creatures are still standing; it’s been so cold that they haven’t melted (although the giraffe’s ears are looking a little thin, and its legs grow more lopsided by the day).

We also hosted a sledding party last week, attended by Brian’s parents and two of his siblings.  The kids adored bossing around their aunts and uncles, dictating who got to go down the big hill with them.  Grandpa even pulled Eleanor back up the hill (can you tell they are the only grandchildren on that side of the family?).

The weather was sunny and warm, but the snow was packed down hard, making for a perfect sledding day.  Afterwards, we made ultra-thick hot chocolate and homemade doughnuts.  Mmmmm, delish!

“No, you’re getting a thumb detector!”

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This year the children were well aware of what Christmas present I had chosen for Brian — I had inherited an old Nintendo Wii from my brother, and had to spend afternoons painstakingly removing his personal data (idiotic photos and Miis).  What’s amazing is that they managed to keep the secret, and even went so far as to purposely mislead their father.

“Daddy, do you know what you’re getting for Christmas?  A hot dog tree!”

“No, he’s not — he’s getting an eyeball machine!”

“No, a spaceship!”

“NO — a ROCKETSHIP!”

And then, because Jeffrey hasn’t learned to wink on his own, he would look at me and use his hand to manually close and open one of his eyelids.  Heh.

This is a snow elephant that Brian made about two weeks ago, with some neighborhood kids pitching in.  Note the baby elephant holding its mother’s tail!  It collapsed the very next day, but Brian says that’s just the perfect set-up for his next project: a snow lion feasting on the remains!

Every year Brian’s siblings try to spend one day during the Christmas season constructing some kind of structure out of gingerbread.  They never make houses, but instead try to think of some unusual thingamabob with lots of room for creativity and cleverness.  This year’s pick was a candy reenactment of the 1969 moon landing.  See the Earthrise in the background?  The tiny American flag made of strips of candy?  The row of chocolate aliens in the background?  Yeah, it’s not one of our finest.  (That prize goes to last year’s creation, a gingerbread White House that included a bowling alley and a movie theater with a tiny candy screen showing Super Fly.)

Brian’s mother cooked up the idea for a family holiday service project this year.  There is an LDS congregation here in Salt Lake that consists entirely of Burmese refugees.  We decided to throw the children a Christmas party.  In addition to serenading them with ukuleles and putting together a very, very two-bit puppet show, the kids dressed up for a nativity pageant.  Eleanor is the littlest angel (the one with the pink flower in her hair).

Brian, his brother Peter, and our brother-in-law Sven were drafted to be the Three Kings.  The costumes were found in some church closet, and I have to say they are, um, stunning in many ways.  Especially when Jeffrey decided at the last minute to join his father, making possibly the first King to ever bring along his own Mini Me.  In the picture he is seated at Brian’s feet; for some reason there were two bejeweled Pilgrim hats in the costume box.

Later that same evening, Brian’s grandmother hosted a big extended-family dinner at the Lion House, and Eleanor was thrilled to sit next to Sven, who is apparently now in the lead for the title of Favorite Uncle.

Jeffrey took the whole affair at the “fancy restaurant” quite seriously, putting his napkin on his lap, using the correct fork — using a fork at all! — and staying in his seat for a whole fifteen minutes before trying to take a walk around the room.

This post makes it seem like I didn’t do a thing with my family.  Not true; we had multiple Christmas parties with them as well.  I was usually just too busy enjoying myself to remember to take pictures — and also there were no opportunites to take a pic of my husband in a silly costume.  But my parents and two of my brothers came to my house for Christmas Eve dinner, and we cooked a big ham and played the Thimble Game.  And then we ate pie and cookies, couldn’t be better.

Here we are on Christmas morning!  The kids slept in, so I took the opportunity to shower and get dressed before we all went upstairs.

Eleanor was given a bicycle for Christmas, complete with what she calls “long shiny things coming down from the handles.”  Santa has recently discovered that bikes can be purchased for $5 at DI and then fixed up for presents.  She insisted on riding circles around the driveway the second she got dressed.

Santa also found a vintage Fisher Price piano at DI for William, which he plunked Schroeder-style for hours on his tummy.  After we were all dressed and fed with a pan of cinnamon rolls my mother had given us, we drove down to Provo to relax and spend more time with family.  What a great Christmas — what a wonderful family — a glorious time was had by all.

Favorite Reads 2009: Picture Books

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It’s that time of year again — the list-makin’ time — and I’ve read my way through nice fat piles of books to bring you some of my select favorites.  Fire up the library cards, and let’s get rollin’!

Best Wordplay — Bubble Trouble by Margaret Mahy, illus. Polly Dunbar.  Probably some of the cleverest rhymes this side of Gilbert & Sullivan, and a rollicking tale about a town’s efforts to rescue an adorable baby floating in a bubble.  Mahy originally published this story in an anthology back in the ’80s, and it’s great to have it back.  Dunbar’s illustrations are scrumptious as always.  Fox in Socks ain’t got nothin’ on this puppy.

Best Read-Aloud for Preschoolers — The Terrible Plop by Ursula Dubosarsky, illus. Andrew Joyner.  This update on the “Chicken Little” story has got a rhyme scheme worthy of a tap-dance.  A group of not-so-bright woodland creatures are spooked into mass hysteria by a mysterious sound by the edge of a lake — until a grumpy bear demands a reasonable explanation.  Joyner’s mixed-media illustrations are both cute and chic, with a definite ’50s-retro vibe.

Best Read-Aloud for Elementary School Kids — Billy Twitters and His Blue Whale Problem by Mac Barnett, illus. Adam Rex.  All hail Adam Rex, king of comic photo-surreal illustration!  And all hail Mac Barnett, whose story allows me to use my Pirate Voice, Nerd Voice, Hippie Teacher Voice, Big Dumb Bully Voice, and Popular Girl Voice, all in one tidy package.  There’s nothing like making an outlandish parental threat (“If you act up one more time, we’re going to get you a blue whale”) and then seeing the literal results.

Most Likely to Win the Caldecott Medal — The Lion and the Mouse by Jerry Pinkney.  Folks, this man has Caldecott runner-ups oozing out of his ears, so it’s time.  And this is the one for the gold.  Lush, realistically depicted animals of the Serengeti star in a wordless retelling of the old Aesop fable.  If the stellar page design isn’t enough to convince you, Pinkney’s gently humorous creatures will. 

For When You Have a Big Case of the Sillies — Rhyming Dust Bunnies by Jan Thomas.  Both wacky-fun in its own right, and a sly send-up of cheerful-yet-bland easy readers, this book reads like a classic Sesame Street sketch distilled into book form.  Any book that ends with all the characters inside a vacuum cleaner gets my vote. 

Reads Like a Classic — The Snow Day by Kamako Sakai.  Yes, the title sounds familiar, but Sakai’s quiet book is a standout for its ability to capture the quiet, indoorsy world of snowy weather.  The depiction of different kinds of light in the illustrations (sunlight, lamplight, reflected light off a snow-covered street) is masterly.  I raved a few years ago about Sakai’s previous book, Emily’s Balloon, and this one is just as good.

Most Adorable Bear of 2009 — Magic Box by Katie Cleminson.  A girl jumps into a cardboard box and finds a magic hat that can grant her wishes.  Her wish for the perfect pet turns out to be a polar bear the size of a city block, followed by bunnies that play jazz music.  A slightly surreal, but goofily fun little tale that reads like your favorite childhood fantasy play.

Feels Like it Was Created Via a Focus Group That Consisted Entirely of My Daughter — Ella Bella Ballerina Meets Cinderella by James Mayhew.  Yes, that’s really what it’s called.  It’s about a girl who finds a magic music box that transports her into fairy tales — in this case, Cinderella.  If you cut this book, it would probably bleed pink, but I say if you’re going to go down that princess road anyway, why not choose a book with good art and storytelling?  Mayhew’s fine-lined watercolors remind me of Louis Slobodkin and are just as light and spun-sugar wonderful as a real trip to the ballet.

Illustrations That Make Me Covet — The Curious Garden by Peter Brown.  It’s an eco-friendly tale about a boy who transforms an abandoned railroad track into a city-wide community garden, but hidden within the modern, wonderfully detailed illustrations is a tree with a two story treehouse in it.  And that just makes me drool.

Best Fight Scene — Yummy! by Lucy Cousins.  Best known for her whimsical Maisy books, Cousins’ retelling of six traditional folktales (The Three Pigs, Little Red Riding Hood, The Three Bears, etc.) are gloriously faithful to the original source material.  Ergo, when the huntsman shows up to off the wolf, there’s a large “CHOP!” smeared across the page, and the wolf’s head goes a-flyin’.  Fortunately, Cousins’ intentionally childlike illustrations give the story more the feel of a Warner Bros. cartoon instead of Night of the Axe-Wielding Fairy Tale, and radiate a warmth that kids will be drawn to.  The extra-large trim size makes it dandy for reading out loud, as well.

Hipper Than Thou — A Penguin Story by Annoinette Portis.  Modern design has the occasional dabble in children’s literature, usually with obtuse, over-intellectual results (Abstract Alphabet, anyone?).  But Portis’ streamlined, frictionless illustrations not only exude ultra-mod style, but are packaged with a darn fine story as well.  Use it as the antidote for anyone who snored their way through Happy Feet.

Just Makes You Wanna Say “Awwwww” — Little Chick by Amy Hest, illus. Anita Jeram.  Little Chick is given a trio of tales in this pleasingly plump volume, each one dealing with some sort of problem.  Her carrot won’t grow!  She can’t catch a star!  Leave it to her ever-wise Old Auntie to save the day, and you’ll feel as comfy and at-home as you would with a favorite quilt.  Go ahead: Awwwwwwww!

For Dog Lovers — Always in Trouble by Corinne Demas.  There’s quite a few picture books with the misbehaving-dog-shapes-up-in-obedience-school story, but Demas throws in enough twists to keep readers chuckling and on their toes.  And that dog is soooo loveably mutt-ish; who can resist that big squishy nose?

Best Use of Food in a Fairy Tale — The Duchess of Whimsy by Randall de Seve, illus. Peter de Seve.  The dull-as-dust Earl of Norm wishes to woo the fabulous Duchess of Whimsy.  Many humorous adventures follow, but what I love about this book is that it ultimately proves that if you can make a really good grilled cheese sandwich, you can do anything.  Peter de Seve is one of my favorite illustrators for The New Yorker, and his talent for charmingly elastic faces and billowy, elaborate clothes are put to good use here.  Fans of King Bidgood’s in the Bathtub will approve.

A Great Gift for Grownups — All the World by Liz Garton Scanlon, illus. Marla Frazee.  It really isn’t a story, more of a poem about the simple things in life that connect everybody.  But what really elevates this book is the jaw-dropping, expansive illustrations by Frazee.  Its gorgeous images of landscapes and families, in addition to its large size, make it worthy of the coffee table as well as bedtime.