If You Give a Mouse a Cookie...If You Give a Child a Story...

As we enter the season of Christianity's favorite story, it's no wonder that - like so many things this time of year - storytelling enters an otherworldly realm of magic. In my household, a much-worn copy of The Night Before Christmas was lifted by my father's hands out of the Christmas box every Christmas eve after church, as he settled his reading glasses on his nose, and my sister and I snuggled into the warmth of his arms, drinking in his patient words and breathing in the cinnamon scented pages (somehow, in another type of Christmas magic, everything that came up out of the cardboard boxes full of decorations, advent candles and calendars, books and Wise Men, hiding in the depths of the basement all year, smelt of cinnamon, and other holiday smells, without fail, every year).

Would you be surprised that at 24 and 20, we still clamber for a reading of that tale (or at least, I do) on Christmas Eve each year? And my father - as he ages gently into a white beard, still with the glasses upon his nose (he was recently invited to join the Amalgamated Order of Real Bearded Santa Clauses, and yes, Virginia, there is such a thing) - is no less patient, perhaps even more so, as a father must be with wistful adult daughters who still wish to hear nursery tales.

Be no less surprised that when gathering around our Advent Wreath each Sunday in December, the two of us fought and bickered predictably over who would get to read the words in the Christmas story that day.

In my adult years, I've begun the tradition of each year at Christmastime reading Charles Dickens' famed, A Christmas Carol, lest I forget it's lessons.

N and I (already!) read Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas every day before nap - and she sounds in resoundingly ("Giddap!") at the parts she's already memorized in the past week or so - and her father reads it to her every night before bedtime.

But what if you were a child whose household never read you a story, not at Christmas, not ever? And what if you couldn't even find a book at your school?

As a recent tutor-in-training with Literacy KC, a local non-profit dedicated to improving the literacy skills of area adults through one-on-one tutoring, I've spent the last several weeks learning all the gory details of the state of literacy in this, our first-world country. And as a nanny, I see a fair amount of Nick Jr, whose campaign and partnership with First Book has enlightened me with some scary statistics. While Literacy KC is working towards helping adults with, for what is for many students a lifetime struggle with reading, First Book is focused on children's access to books, another key to solving the literacy issue.

A few facts:

"A recent study shows that while in middle income neighborhoods the ratio of books per child is 13 to 1, in low-income neighborhoods, the ratio is 1 age-appropriate book for every 300 children."

"80% of preschools and after-school programs serving low-income populations have no age-appropriate books for their children."

My own journey with Literacy KC has been an emotional one; during training, I've heard testimonies from students who had sudden realizations that, when reading to their preschooler, they would never be able to read a book to their child again, to students who wanted to work, but couldn't fill out a job application. It's something I took for granted all of my life: parents who loved to read to me, and love to read themselves, access to all the books my book-crazy heart could desire, a quality education, and even a natural ability to read and write. So many of the students at Literacy KC struggle with poor phonemic awareness and learning disabilities, and because of their socioeconomic circumstances, were passed through as "stupid," by teachers, schools, and parents who didn't care, or grew up in households where nobody they knew could read either. Some of these people graduate their high schools reading at an 8th grade level, or far worse. And they will tell you themselves just how far you can't get at a 5th grade reading level, diploma, or not.

And this is just America.

Nick Jr has teamed up with First Book and We Give Books as part of their Big Help initiative- a "commitment to engage kids to take action and make a difference by connecting them to issues and current events they are passionate about. The campaign focuses on four key concerns that affect the current generation of kids: the sustainability of the environment, the need to improve on health and wellness, the right to a quality education and becoming more active in their community." They've put together on-line book drive campaigns in order to provide books to children of the low-income neighborhoods, families, and schools.

Not only that, but they encourage you to encourage your own little reader (should you know one); We Give Books' campaign functions on the premise that you select a book from their digital library to read online, and they donate a book.

And then there's Anthropologie, who's teamed up with Penguin Books to create holiday story time sessions in their stores that coincide with local book drives. Your child can listen to a story while you shop this holiday season (which makes a happier shopping experience for everyone), and when you check out, you can pick a book or toy from their selection to donate.

Check out their Facebook page for more info; in Kansas City, our drive takes place at the Country Club Plaza store, on December 15, from 10-12 am (this time slot seems as though it might be wrong - I'm going to investigate, and changes will be posted if need be).

Also, locally, Churchill - located in the Fairway shops - will be donating a percentage of their November and December sales to Literacy KC.

I promise this isn't just me up on my soapbox; 'tis always the season to give and be thankful, but here's to helping children everywhere start fresh in the new year with a book to read.

What if Real Life was just like Preschool?

Then we'd all be a lot happier. I mean, I'm just sayin'.

Nick Jr runs these ads centered around this idea. I searched and searched for a video, but alas, came up empty-handed so unfortunately you'll have to rely on my word-smithing to catch the idea.

Scenario 1: A mail clerk is attempting to make his rounds in your typical office, but as he calls out name after name, there's no responses. Nobody's sitting at their desk, cubicles are all empty, lights are off. Finally, a snore draws his gaze downwards, to the hard-working, suit-clad workers snoozing under their desks, teddy bears, blankies, thumb-sucking and all.

Wouldn't it be great if life was like preschool? There'd be naptime.

Scenario 2: A bustling surgery, doctors calling for scalpels, etc. For their tinkertoy creation, that is.

Wouldn't it be great if life was like preschool? There'd be arts and crafts.


You get the picture. There's a also a few in a mechanics shop involving story time and a class pet. These all make me smile, of course, but also give me pause, because in a lot of ways, my life is like preschool (even more so than when I worked in a preschool, actually):

1) There's naptime. Sweet, sweet naptime. Currently, M still takes a morning nap, and both M & N nap in the afternoon, giving me ample to time to recover, rest, take some quiet time of my own, and occasionally (okay, pretty much all the time) work on my other projects, of which there are many. But sometimes, if I really want to, I can close my eyes and enjoy the peace and quiet. Or watch endless Glee videos. Whichever.

I personally think America's working hours are too long - when I was in Dublin, I worked 10-4. And I gleefully walked to work everyday. Now, I loved my internship, but, I also never got burnt out, and neither did the editor. I love the Spanish idea of a siesta as well. There's been many a study about how productivity lags in the afternoons, and how Americans are putting in more and more hours, but getting less accomplished. Efficiency in shorter hours. When I have my pie shop / boutique, we just might have siesta time.

2) There's arts and crafts. Not just the kind N likes to do, which mean I come home and find dried playdough, beads, and hair elastics hiding inside my clothes, or marker on my nose. No, I've been lucky enough to find a group of artistically inclined girls and form a Craft Night - which makes us sound like a bunch of old biddies knitting and gossiping, but really, it's a bunch of wildly talented visual artists (and me) inspiring each other with the creative work they get up to when they're not doin' the daily grind. I love it.

3) There's storytime. Hellooo, blogging, writing, reading "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" a thousand times, memorizing "Goodnight Moon?" My parents nicknamed me "Belle" when I was little and this had entirely to do with the fact that I could be caught reading while brushing my teeth, walking, eating, watching tv, riding in the car, in the shower (I still do this, I read and re-read the back of all my bottles and what-not) - anywhere I could read, I would. My life is storytime because I am so caught up in language and literature. My imagination's vivid. And I'm always daydreaming.

4) There's a balance between worktime and playtime. Of course there's that old adage, "All work and no play makes Jack a dully boy," and then the European sentiment, "Work to live, don't live to work," but I saw this balance quite evident when I was working at a Montessori preschool. In Montessori, there is work, and while it may take on the appearance of toys, it is always exercises in counting, motor skills, letter learning, etc. but this is always balanced with playtime at other times of the day. Elementary school was like this, you had math, science, social studies, but you also had recess, music, art, P.E.

My life is exceptionally balanced in this way I find because taking care of the kids is both work and play, when they nap, I get a break for my own work and play time, and then I break up my evenings and weekends with work/writing time, gym time (which with my upcoming dance classes will be play time too), friend time, volunteer time, dating time, craft time, future planning time, music time, family time, cooking time, collapsing face first into my bed and turning off my phone time...

Okay, so sometimes, I add way too much onto my plate. I've always done this. I'm interested in doing too much. My life has become about finding a way to balance this, structure this, and to be able to do it all. Up next on my reading list is a book, "The Renaissance Soul: Life Design for People with Too Many Passions to Pick Just One," which, as you can read in the title, is all about figuring out how to accomplish all of these things. Recently, it's become about realizing different goals and projects should be tackled at different times in my life, not all at once.

5) There's always room for imagination. This goes back to everything I've mentioned above, the stories, the varied interests, the dreaming...fashion has a lot to do with this. It's dress up time, yes, and call me crazy, but I feel empowered when I love what I'm wearing (which tends to be always). And that's important for a nanny with a college degree. It's one of the reasons I go to the gym: I feel empowered when I feel strong, and I love feeling strong, always have.

Preschool is all about playing make-believe, which imitates real life. And what is the life of a twenty-something but that? We've just been thrusted out of a lifetime of school, into this "real world" thing, and I know but few people my age who really know what they want out of life. We're all trying new paths, new jobs, new hobbies, new people, and just trying to figure it all out. Some people know what they want and are figuring out how to get there. Others, have an inkling, or have no idea, but again, are figuring out how to figure that out and get there. We're all toddlers and pre-schoolers out here in the real world, learning how to walk, talk, and live. And with practice and play, we'll get it right.



What are your pre-life ambitions? Experiments? Hardships? I'd love to hear.