In the last few days Baby Anne and I have been walloped by a stomach virus that included a high fever for both of us. Just as I thought we were done with it, she began vomiting again yesterday but seems to have stopped again. Now I am eyeing everyone in my family suspiciously, wondering who will be the next victim, but so far no signs of illness.

During this time we have done a few things. We made a cake for Pentecost. The shape of the cake is a butterfly because we happened to have a butterfly pan. The drawing on top is supposed to be a dove to represent the Holy Spirit.

Meg sang Happy Birthday to the Church and enjoyed the cake. Clare, unfortunately, did not get to enjoy the cake because she decided to go to her room and paint her arms and legs blue. Oh, she also decided her bedroom floor should be blue and began painting that. We scrubbed her legs and arms, but she still looks like a smurf. The floor cleaned up much better than she did. I am all about encouraging her artistic expression, but there are limits.

I've also spent this time of illness reading children's chapter books. Now that the girls are slowly moving from picture books to chapter books for bedtime reading, I wanted to expand my knowledge of what was out there. While I loved books as a child and had some great favorites, there were a lot of wonderful children's books I just never read or never even heard about. After all, at that time we couldn't google "top 25 children's books your 8-year-old should read." If my parents, teachers or librarian didn't recommend it, I probably didn't know of its existence.

So this past weekend I finished the last Penderwick novel (which, of course, wasn't around when I was a child) and read Elizabeth Enright's The Saturdays (which was written long before I was born but I only recently heard about it). The Saturdays is an absolutely charming book about siblings who live in an old New York brownstone and decide to pool their allowances so they can each take a Saturday to go on an extraordinary adventure. How did I miss this book as a child! No matter how old you are everyone must go read this book right now.

I have a stack of children's books to read, but I've also found a few books intended for my own age which I should probably throw into the mix. Summer is meant for reading. Even Meg and Clare agree. They've been practicing their own reading with an unusual enthusiasm and excitedly signed up for the summer reading program at the Arlington County Library yesterday. Expect a few book reviews in the coming weeks.

I am very lucky to have a sister who, as part of her career and personal enjoyment, has stayed abreast of children's literature. She has introduced my children to books by Eric Carle, Rosemary Wells (the McDuff series specifically) and Kevin Henkes. She has also introduced me to a few great books. For years I rolled my eyes at the Harry Potter fanfare, but my sister kept telling me how well-written the books were. Finally she said, "Read the first fifty pages of Sorcercer's Stone. Get Harry to Hogwarts. If you don't like it by that point, stop reading." I kept reading and had read the first four books within about two weeks. The following summer I was in one of those lines at midnight buying the new Harry Potter book.

For my birthday this year my sister sent me a new series of children's books--The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall. What a charming series of books this is. The books tell the story of four sisters who have very different personalities but manage to have great adventures together. Rosalind is the oldest and surrogate mother to the others (their mother died of cancer weeks after the birth of the youngest sister). Skye is the mathematician who is embarrassed by the overly imaginative tendencies of some of her sisters. Jane is the writer who loves attics and is constantly writing Sabrina Starr adventure stories. Bitty is the youngest who wears butterfly wings and hides behind her family members. Though she is named after her mother (Elizabeth is Bitty's legal name), she has no memories of her mother and loves when Rosalind tells her stories about their mother.

While these stories are set in the present day, they read like a story from a bygone time. Jeanne Birdsall readily admits to being influenced by classic children's authors such as Louisa May Alcott and Noel Streatfeild. The consensus of most reviewers is that these books are charmingly old-fashion. I highly recommend the series and look forward to the day my daughters are old enough to fully enjoy these books.

Since becoming a mother, Beatrix Potter has become surprisingly important to me. I have always loved her artwork and knew I wanted to incorporate it into our nursery. Weeks after finding out I was pregnant with Meg, my mom began to knit a beautiful afghan inspired by Beatrix Potter's Tom Kitten in which the girls now cuddle up quite often. (They've also been known to wrap each other up in the afghan pretending to be Tom Kitten wrapped up in the Roly Poly Pudding.)

It was Clare who took our love for Beatrix Potter to a whole new level. When she was not quite two, her favorite book became a simplified retelling of Peter Rabbit. She would have me read it over and over. One day she found a copy of The Tale of Benjamin Bunny and brought it to me to read. As she realized it was a continuation of the Peter Rabbit story, her emotions were a mix of joy at having discovered it and dismay that no one had previously told her of its existence.

Inspired by all of this, I added to my own reading the charming Cottage Tales of Beatrix Potter. These books are mysteries by Susan Wittig Albert, which have Beatrix Potter as their heroine. I also read Linda Lear's biography of Beatrix Potter entitled Beatrix Potter: A Life in Nature. It was with the reading of this book that Beatrix Potter went from a favorite artist and writer to a woman I would want my daughters to emulate in many respects. Prior to writing her children's books, Beatrix Potter used her artistic skills to draw fungi. Her study of fungi led her to develop a theory of germination at odds with the experts of her day. She wrote a paper on the topic that at the time was rejected, but since has been proven correct. Also, while being a daughter of privilege, Beatrix Potter made her own money and used that money to buy farm land and keep the land as working farms. 

Perhaps the thing I admire most about Beatrix Potter is how she dealt with sorrow. Meg and Clare have been begging to watch the movie Miss Potter. I have hesitated because, in the movie, Beatrix Potter's fiance dies and I was afraid it would simply be too sad for them. Yesterday, when they asked why the movie was sad, I explained that she loved a man and they were to be married, but he died of leukemia before they could be married. And then I added, "She was very sad, but do you know what she did? She chose to be happy. She moved to her farm. She worked very hard to make it a really good farm. And eventually she met another man that she also loved and they were married for many, many years." That is a life lesson I very much want my girls to learn. Life will bring you many things that can make you very sad, but you can always choose to be happy. Each day you can choose to do things that you love and things that make you proud. In Beatrix Potter: A Life in Nature, there is a story from Beatrix Potter's early life. She battled a long illness and felt herself going into her head a bit too much and succumbing to depression. Her solution was to memorize Shakespeare plays to keep her mind active and fight the depression. I love to see that kind of fight in a woman and I love that my daughters see her as a role model.

I let the girls watch Miss Potter yesterday. Clare fell asleep (still recovering from the time change). Meg followed the movie, but kept running out of the room to collect her art supplies. She found my wooden lap desk and began to set up a work table that resembled Beatrix Potter's work table in the movie. She reiterated that she would be an artist who made books and began discussing how we would publish her book Fairies of the Sweetness Flower. Yes, I feel quite good that Beatrix Potter is one of their role models. 

"A mouse took a stroll through the deep dark wood." So begins Julia Donaldson's The Gruffalo. It is a line that we in our house randomly repeat throughout our day because the book has become such a part of our lives. The line is right up there with Madeline's "In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines lived twelve little girls in two straight lines." (The Madeline phrase is so ubiquitous even my husband references it.)

As you can see from the picture, Clare recently decided to pay tribute to The Gruffalo by drawing a picture of the monster, so I thought it was time that I pay tribute to the book myself. It was our dear friend Nicole who discovered The Gruffalo for us. She found the movie version of The Gruffalo at the library along with the book The Gruffalo's Child. The girls were immediately entranced and we soon located a copy of the original book which became a favorite bedtime story. As a guest reader in Meg's preschool class last year, I shared the book and the teachers were so taken with the story it is now part of the regular book rotation at their preschool. The Gruffalo has also become one of our go-to birthday gifts for the numerous preschool birthday parties we attend. 

The Gruffalo tells a story of a mouse who outsmarts a series of predators by saying he is meeting the Gruffalo--a supposedly imaginary monster of whom the mouse gives fantastically terrible descriptions. As each predator leaves, the mouse mocks, "Silly old [fill in predator]! Doesn't he know? There's no such thing as a gruffalo." But to the mouse's surprise, he soon encounters a Gruffalo, who meets every aspect of the description the mouse has given. When the Gruffalo threatens to eat the mouse, the mouse responds, "I'm the scariest creature in this deep dark wood." The incredulous Gruffalo follows the mouse through the wood as the mouse makes the Gruffalo believe that the mouse (and not the Gruffalo himself) is scaring each of the predators. The book ends with the wonderfully peaceful lines, "All was quiet in the deep dark wood. The mouse found a nut and the nut was good."

I'm not completely sure what makes this book so endearing. Certainly the rhyme and rhythm of the words are superb. Clare, in particular, loves rhyme (I call her my little Dr. Seuss) and that is certainly part of the attraction for her. The language is so rhythmic that both the reader and listener can easily recite the story after reading it regularly for a brief time. When I read the book to Meg's class last year, she recited it word for word right along with me. The story is also just funny and is written with those fantastic British turns of phrase that make things sound even funnier. Then there are the illustrations. The colors are vibrant and the characters are drawn with fabulous expressions. If you haven't read this book, go read it now and share it with every child you know. 

There are moments when my kids wow me. This picture is my three-year-old's rendering of a bride doll. Don't worry...I'm not about to take you point-by-point through the drawing to prove she is an artistic genius. (That goes without saying, right?) It was not Clare's skill, but the reason why Clare drew this picture that amazed me.

Several weeks ago I wrote a post about reading The Story of Holly and Ivy with the girls. The book truly made an impression on Meg and Clare because they have continued to talk about it. In the book, one of Holly's companions in the toy shop is a bride doll. Meg and Clare--who love all things feminine and frilly--have asked about the bride doll several times. One day they asked me if I had a bride doll when I was a girl. I responded, "No, I don't believe I did. My sister had one, but I don't think I did."

Clare--who had the mindset of a middle child long before she was the middle child--interpreted this statement to mean I had been slighted. She thought it terribly sad that my sister was given such a beautiful doll and I did not receive one myself. (To be clear, I don't remember ever wanting a bride doll as a child and I most certainly haven't been holding a grudge about it for thirty years.) To make me feel better about this perceived injustice, Clare went to work on her masterpiece. After a great deal of work (including those awesome scissor skills you can see around the edges), Clare presented me with my very own bride doll. 

The bride doll drawing now sits on my bedside table. It reminds me that Clare, who sometimes drives me crazy whining about all the slights against her throughout the day, is also on the lookout to remedy injustices (real or imagined) towards others. 

Clare takes great comfort in books. You can barely make her out in the picture to the left, but this is a typical scene: Clare snuggled under a blanket asleep with a pile of books on top of her. This past weekend, she began running a slight fever (quite unusual for her). Her solution to "being sick" was to pile fifteen books on top of my bed, situate herself in the midst of all the pillows and allow my husband and me to take turns reading to her. 

Clare only goes to preschool two days a week, so on the mornings when Meg is at school but Clare is not, we often find ourselves at the library. On Mondays we might go to the Shirlington branch of the Arlington County library just to read books and check out a few for home. On Wednesdays and Fridays we go to the Central Library for storytime. 

The storytimes at Arlington County Public Library are superb. We have tried numerous storytimes at various bookstores, but few come close to the excellent library presentations. The librarians use music, rhymes and even flannelgraphs to keep the children focused on the book theme of the day. Clare, who can be painfully shy at times, has come alive in these sessions. When we first began attending storytime, she would sit in my lap and rarely participate in any way. Now she sits on her own carpet square, sings along with the songs, attempts any actions that accompany the rhymes and songs, and never hesitates to yell out a response to the librarian's questions. I now watch her from the side of the room (where I attend to Baby Anne) and feel proud of each tiny step of independence she takes. 

I hope these storytimes will remain special to Clare for a long time. Meg has already deemed storytime for babies and refuses to go no matter how much we try to explain that there are different storytimes for each age group. I hope Clare won't be influenced by that. Periodically Clare will say, "I wish I lived in the Hundred Acre Wood." She very much wants to turn our back patio into Mr. McGregor's garden. In the library she visits all her favorite books: Madeline and the Cats of Rome and the McDuff books. Books are a comfort to her sensitive little soul and I hope they remain a comfort throughout her life.