Children's Books I Have Loved

I remember sitting in a classrom, the tall windows shadowed by long, rolled blinds, and the tiled floors, hard and cold. The desks all faced the front, but there was a large square of carpet in the back of the room, where small groups of us would congregate to learn to read. We were separated into "The Dolphins," "The Tigers," and "The Whales," and I remember crying, because I was a "Whale" and I wanted to be a "Dolphin."

We would be summoned--"Whales, I need you"-- and we would scuff back, sit cross-legged in a circle, with thin, floppy covered books in our laps. Some children ruffled the pages, fanning them, while others studied the words and the pictures, followed along with sweaty pointer fingers. "Sound it out," our teacher would urge, and we would try, sounds and syllables stretching like a rubber band, then contracting back into a word. "Don't be afraid of the big words, Jimmy," the teacher would plead, and dirty, mussed hair Jimmy would stare at her with watery, confused eyes, like he had no idea what she was talking about; Jimmy was afraid of Darth Vader and getting drafted. He wasn't running from any old words.

I don't remember much about the process of learning to read, but I remember Pringles cans, wrapped in construction paper, with skinny lists tucked into them; sight words, the ones you can't sound out. I remember workbooks, and fidgety meetings on the carpet, like a primitive self help group, with members eager to throw themselves out and share their story, and others reluctant, trying to disappear under the collars of their shirts. I remember renegade staples hooked into the carpet, the hum of the heater, peaks at the elastic of your neighbor's underpants, and boring stories about kids or static electricity.

I also remember wanting to read. Wanting to know the words in books. To not need to rely on anyone for a good story. To sit on the couch with my legs tucked up under me the way my mother sat, a thick paperback wedged in her hand. The school started me on Dick and Jane, but I started myself on Dennis the Menace, a dog-eared find at my grandma's house, probably something that belonged to my dad when he was a boy. Dennis was a bad, bad kid, always tripping people and getting into the food and making messes on the floor. His dad looked frazzled, but I always thought that they loved him, his parents, which was sort of nice, especially considering how bad he was.

Book orders were the highlight of elementary school. "You can pick 3," my mother would say, and I would pore over the flimsy sheet, circling choices, then scratching them out. Given a white envelope filled with dollars and coins and instructed to give it to the teacher immediately. When the Scholastic (or Troll) box arrived at the school, we would mob the teacher like she was Erik Estrada from CHIPS. We would take our stack of books home and devour them, careful not to bend the covers or get peanut butter on the pages.

The closest that I get to "Book Order Excitement" these days is when the Amazon box arrives. It's not the same though. I have too many books, now. I don't appreciate new ones the way I did when I was in elementary school, when my collection was first starting. I still love a book, don't get me wrong, but back in the day, my books were read and reread until they were a part of me, a part of my history. Those books made me who I am now.

Deb had a fabulous post on her blog yesterday, all about children's books. I had such a great time reading her favorites (and reminiscing) that I decided to write about some of my favorites, too. I'm modifying the original questions a bit, but you get the idea.

Favorite Children's Books THEN:
1. Dennis the Menace comic books by Hank Ketcham
2. Peanuts comic books by Charles Schultz
2. Where The Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein--poetry written especially for a kid, complete with nose picking and potty humor; gorgeous illustrations, too
3. Little Rabbit's Loose Tooth by Lucy Bate (author) and Diane DeGroat (illus.)--a pretty, pretty book and a nice story
4. George and Martha by James Marshall--loved George and Martha; they were so emotional

Favorite Children's Books NOW:
1. Bunny Knuffles by Mr. Mo Willems--colorful illustrations of a family against black and white pictures of Mo Willems' actual Slope Park neighborhood; lovely story of what happens when Daddy loses Trixie's stuffed rabbit at the laundromat
2. Lily's Purple, Plastic Purse by Kevin Henkes--fun with Lily as she explores her inner diva after getting called out for bringing her new purse to school and insisting on sharing it (and her new jangly coins) during instruction
3. Wemberly Worried by Kevin Henkes--Wemberly is as neurotic as I am (am surprised that she does not fear furnace combustion, too); love how she overcomes some anxieties
4. Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales, written by Jon Scieszka and illustrated by Lane Smith--an unusual take on fairy tales, somewhat disturbing yet hilarious (i.e. The Ugly Duckling grows up . . . and is still ugly, with bulging eyes and a tongue that hangs out of his mouth)

Favorite Pre-Teen (The "OMG, I'm can't believe I'm reading a novel" category):
1. Freaky Friday by Mary Rodgers--so much wittier and sarcastic than any movie could be
2. Billion for Boris by Mary Rodgers--the sequel to Freaky Friday; just as good, I think. Boris fixes an old TV and can suddenly watch the next day's news on it--shenanigans and a get rich scheme ensue
3. The Wolves of Willowby Chase by Joan Aikin--gothic children's tale, with orphans, evil caretakers and an estate
4. The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin--filled with interesting characters residing in an high rise, I read this mystery again and again
5. Any chapter books written by Lois Lenski, specifically Cotton in My Sack, Shoo-Fly Girl, Strawberry Girl, or Prairie School--Lenski tackles eras and geographical regions in her beautifully written novels; the key character is usually a girl, about eight years old, who provides authentic details and a child's perspective on family life, school, and national events during the early to mid 20th century(charming illustrations, too, making them the ideal books for a child transitioning from picture books to chapter ones); I remember being on the edge of my seat while reading "Prairie School," which describes children getting snowed in at their school house during a blizzard