Mercy what a difference a birthday makes.

"The Eskimos had fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them: there ought to be as many for love."

~Margaret Atwood

'Twas the night before birthday,
And all through the house,
All my girls, they were crying;
There was gassy reflux everywhere.
God help us.

I got home last Tuesday night from a client meeting and there was crying carnage everywhere. Sleeplessness ensued until we all finally fell into restless slumber. (I don't know how Mama's do it.)

Such is life with two, and yet it's all still pretty brand new.

Wednesday was Beatrice's birthday, but I was away again all day seeing clients and prospects. I got home earlier this time, and mercy what a difference a birthday makes, with everyone's emotional disposition strategically aligned.

Look Ma, no crying!

It was only the four of us and we watched as Beatrice opened a few gifts, her favorite kind: books.

She's a book fiend just like Mama and Daddy. We wouldn't have it any other way. I remember my book hoarding days as a child, teen and adult -- hey, they've never really gone away.

It may take me longer to plow through the word fields with life's rapidly changing seasons, but plow away I do. Mama does too and we read to Bea multiple times per day. In fact, it's already ritual right before night-night. Bryce will hopefully take to it as well.

One of her favorites is Papa, Please Get the Moon for Me by Eric Carle, and last night before bed I took Bea outside to see the rising but waning full moon.

She smiled.

You can take everything else away from me, but you can't take away my girls and these moments of lassoing permanence.

And love.

I'll lasso the moon for all of them if I can, my sweet buffalo gals.

Buffalo gals, won't you come out tonight?
Come out tonight, Come out tonight?
Buffalo gals, won't you come out tonight,
And dance by the light of the moon.

Reading to Bea: Suspenseful thrillers with a hopeful twist

I grew up buried in books, tunneling through character and plot. Words were sustenance for heart and mind. I've always thanked my mother for feeding my primal critical thinking mind by reading to me and encouraging me to read. My wife grew up with a voracious appetite for reading as well.

So when we decided to have a child we knew that reading would be a big part of that child's world. Even when my little sweet Beatrice was still in Mama A's belly, she was reading and talking to Bea (didn't know she was a Bea during the entire pregnancy) and I read and talked to her as well.

Now that she's almost six months, we've found that one of her favorite books is Ten Little Ladybugs by Melanie Gerth and illustrated by Laura Huliska-Beith.

And now that I've read it at least a few hundred times to her while she sits on my lap spellbound in ladybug land, little hands caressing each page and ladybug bump, I've realized that this little book is quite the suspenseful thriller with a hopeful twist.

Think about it for a moment:

TEN little ladybugs sitting on a vine, along came a butterfly – then there were…

And then there nine. Dear God, what happened to the lady bug. What did the butterfly do?

Reading on, the story becomes even more horrific, ladybugs disappear left and right, innocent animals vanish at the hands of other species. Bea bounces on my lap, arms flail, eyes wide, mouth a giant "O".

SIX little ladybugs flying near a hive, along came a bumblebee – then there were…

This one stuns me. It's my daughter's namesake (kind of) stealing away the sixth ladybug. Will the madness ever cease? Will there be a ransom note? Where are the police? Bea's drool leaves her chin, striking me on the hand. I jump!

ONE little ladybug sitting all along, along came a breeze – then she was…

What's with these random acts of violence from these dark creatures of the meadowland netherworld? Butterfly, caterpillar, bird, grasshopper, bumblebee, fish, turtle, duck, frog – and my God, even the breeze joins in on the unforgiving crime spree!

Where are the ladybugs!

Home!

Then she was…home. Home. All the animals are there, smiling, and all 10 little ladybugs are happy and safe. These were random acts of kindness from complete strangers. A community helping its neighbors. A village raising its young.

That's the kind of world I want my daughter to grow up in. Reading should foster dreams of hope.

What we do when we grow up is ours to make – a hopeful mindful living and personal responsibility reality.

Read Across America: words are sustenance for heart and mind

I grew up buried in books, tunneling through character and plot. Words were sustenance for heart and mind. Nothing's changed as an adult except that time has sealed up many of the tunnels.

I should stay home one day just to plow through an entire novel in one sitting. I mean sitting and laying (with the occasional cat nap).

Reading, reading, reading. I read to Bea all throughout Mama's pregnancy and we both read to her all the time. She's digging the words and the sounds of our voices, and she's exercising her own voice more, articulating new sounds I've never heard her utter before.

Granted she prefers putting the books in her mouth just as much as she likes looking at them. Like I said, sustenance for heart and mind and lil' B-usybodies.

Next month is the National Education Association's Read Across America day:

The nationwide reading celebration takes place each year on or near March 2, the birthday of children's author Dr. Seuss. Across the country, thousands of schools, libraries, community centers, and more participate by bringing together kids and books, and you can too!

Your reading event can be as simple or elaborate as time and inclination allow. Whether you choose to scale up or down, keep in mind the basic premise and it's almost sure to be a success:

On March 2, the National Education Association is calling for every child to be reading in the company of a caring adult.

That Bea can count on. We've got plenty of Dr. Suess books as well.

Children aren't the only ones who need reading friends. Today I again volunteered as a book buddy for older folk through the Santa Cruz Public Libraries. I did it years ago and sadly my book buddy passed away a few months after I started. Not why I waited so long to do it again, but glad I'm doing it now. I'll be delivering books to homebound elderly, visiting with them, talking about the books we're both reading, take their requests, make recommendations, etc.

I'm happy to see our Santa Cruz libraries get hip and high tech – the AquaBrowser Library – Word Clouds – Angels and Kittens – Cherubs and Heaven.

Okay, I'll stop.

Daddy K screens Curious George

What's with some of these older children's books? I love 'em, but c'mon.

Just read Curious George the other day to Baby B – a story about illegal animal poaching that violates treaties of multiple countries where George smokes a pipe, George prank phone calls the fire department, George gets locked up in a prison and kills a guard to escape (maybe he's curious Jason Bourne?), George steals balloons from a street vendor, and then he's locked up in a zoo.

Really?

Thank goodness Winnie the Pooh isn't starting fires in the hundred acre wood. And maybe Scaredy Squirrel is a little too paranoid, but there's still nothing better than dogs partying in a tree.

The B Rules: Read the Book First

Okay, so the kid isn't even out of the womb yet. But, reading will be a very high priority for the B-ster. I've already been reading out loud to B and Mama A, and B's responding in kind by moving excitedly in its protective uterine shell.

Or, maybe it's gas. (Mine not Mama's!)

But I don't think so. We've been playing the poke and poke back game with Mama's belly and it's definitely responding to our touch and tones.

I thank my Mom for instilling reading in me. She read to my sister and I regularly and my Mom remembers how much I coveted my books when I was little. I was a very shy, introspective child, and books were a way for me to connect with another life, another world. I'd sit in my room, or outside in my tree house when I was older, or anywhere for that matter, and read, read, read.

Fast forward to when I was 10. Somehow I came across a paperback copy of Jaws. Not an appropriate book for a 10-year-old, no, but I was quickly absorbed in it and ripped through the reading.

So of course since I was so well-versed in every aspect of the story, my imagineered vision of the shark horrifying real, I assumed that when my sister and I were taken to see the blockbuster movie version (one of the first true summer blockbusters), I would be fine.

God help me.

Within the first few minutes after the opening credits rolled, I was horrified and sick. When the woman was swimming and the great white first hit, I thought I had lost my mind (and my stomach).

Immediately I fled to the theater bathroom. I had no idea how long I was in there until Mom came and got me. I said I'd give it another go, but again within a few more minutes (I believe it was the diver part with the boat and the head), I was lost in gut-wrenching terror.

That was it. All done. I had to be taken home. But, my sister stayed, God bless her.

Within a week I was bragging to the other neighborhood kids about specific parts of the movie, parts I never saw (until years later), and I was revered for it. My sister would have none of that and cleaned up my flotsam and jetsam BS by reminding everyone that she stayed and watched the whole movie, and I went home like a scared little baby.

Good times.

The stark reality of visual images put before us can be too much, especially today with how far special effects have come. We can get into another discussion at another time of how such violent and sexual images can be detrimental for children and society at large (no, I'm fine that I saw Jaws at 10).

That's why reading it so powerful because our minds create a safety net for us, only allowing us to imagine based on what we already know and what we can handle as we teeter across the high wire of words over a sea of infinitum. When we read we are the captain of the boat and we decide exactly how horrifying the sharks are. This evolves as we get older but the rule still applies. And all of us have differing visions of what those words describe from book to book.

The problem is that once a director's vision is put to celluloid (wow, what am I, 100 years old?) or digitized in hi-res video, those images are the same for all of us indefinitely. Harry Potter is a perfect example of this.

Don't get me wrong, I love movies, whether they are original screenplays or adaptations. But dagnabbit, read the book first. Reading helps to build vocabulary and exercise the mind. Amy and I are big readers and I've become a little voracious about it again. Love it.

We missed this year's NEA Read Across America, which is an event sponsored by the National Education Association that promotes reading. But Mama A and Baby B, we'll be ready for it next year (March 2, 2009), and the year after that, and the year after…

Every day is Read Across America at our house.

Daddy K Fights for Wednesday’s Rights

One of Amy's old children's books I read this week was Counting Rhymes, A Little Golden Book, full of folk rhymes and fun. The version we have was published in 1960. I love reading these old books; such a different world prior to free love, disco, Reaganomics, the Clinton years, and the Internet.

Here's a taste:

Three Babes

Three babes in a basket

And hardly room for two,

And one was yellow and one was black

And one had eyes of blue.

That space was small no doubt for all,

But what should three babes do?

Be socially AND personally responsible, right Mr. Jackson? And of course, get out and vote. When they're 18, of course.

And then there's Monday's Child:

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving –

Wait a minute. Wednesday's child is full of woe?

Why?

What did Wednesday's child do to deserve being born on such a woeful day? What's wrong with Wednesday?

Oh, Baby B, we must fight for Wednesday's rights. Wednesday can be just as loving and giving as Friday? And although Saturday's child must work hard for a living, the child born on the Sabbath Day is blithe and winsome and happy and gay. But what about Wednesday?

Yes, we will fight, B. We will be the Wednesday Winners and all the other days will cower in our hump day shadows –

Sorry, lost my head for a minute. That always happens during a week of off-balance data mismanagement.

Daddy K and Babar come of Internet age

A couple of weeks ago I read a little blurp in the San Jose Mercury News that the Internet may not the child reading killer as many people believe.

Which is a good thing because my laptop is (unfortunately) wired to my hands, and we hope to instill a weighted imbalance in B between using the computer and using the library card. The library card will win.

But I want B to be proficient with a computer and savvy traversing the Internet – parent-approved traversing.

According to the article:

A national survey of children 5-17, designed in part by "Harry Potter" publisher Scholastic, indicates that the Internet is reinforcing some kids' interest in books instead of diluting it.

I can buy that. We're not talking about video games.

The 2008 Kids and Family Reading Report, from Scholastic and research firm Yankelovich, was released this week with some upbeat statistics about books printed on paper. Among the results: 62 percent of kids surveyed say they prefer to read books rather than on a computer or a handheld device.

Cool.

A key concern is that the time kids spend reading books for fun declines after age 8 and continues to drop off through the teen years. But this year's study also found that the kids who are high-frequency Internet users are more likely to read books for fun every day. One in four kids say they read books daily for fun, and more than half of kids say they read books for fun at least two to three times a week.

Very cool.

Moreover, two-thirds of kids ages 9-17 who go online are using the Internet in ways that complement book reading - learning what other people think about a book, learning about an author and connecting with other readers. Just because they like YouTube doesn't mean they're abandoning the library.

Is there a site for kids to review and chat with one another about books? Interesting idea. There is Reading Rainbow. Very cool.

On a side note, you ever notice that reading some children's books as an adult can be an unsettling experience. Take The Story of Babar. I just bought it yesterday to read to Mama A and Baby B. One of my favorite books visually as a child.

Two deaths, a kept elephant, and Babar marries his cousin.

Really.