You Are (Not) Small by Anna Kang and Christopher Weyant

So there’s this fuzzy purple guy and he’s just standing there. And then this taller fuzzy orange guy comes and he’s all like pointing at the purple guy and he says, “You are small.” He even has this pointy-down mean eyebrow look on his face.

Well then the fuzzy purple guy, he denies it. He says, “I am not small.” Then he totally turns it around on that orange guy and says, “You are big.” 

Take that, fuzzy orange guy!

Well then of course the fuzzy orange guy, well, HE denies it with an “I am not big.” Then he gets this smug look on his face like he knows something the purple guy doesn’t know, and he says, “See?” and points behind him. And there’s like four more fuzzy orange guys and they’re just as tall as him!

Hoo boy, that purple guy gets all grumpy but now he’s got like fourteen fuzzy purple guys with him all of a sudden and they’re the same size as he is!

And now I’m totally expecting Dallas Winston to come running in and yell “Don’t you know a rumble ain’t a rumble without me?!?!” and the book to go all The Outsiders on me ‘cause these fuzzy dudes is getting ANGRY! They’re yelling about being big and small and then . . .

Another fuzzy guy shows up. A blue guy, and he’s HUGE. And then there’s more fuzzy guys. Pink guys, and they’re little pipsqueaks. So now the little guys are actually big compared to the pipsqueaks and big guys are mini-fuzzy dudes next to the new blue guy who is so huge you can only see his legs.

Perspective. It sure can change an argument.

Okay, I’m not sure where that review came from, but that is how the book goes. There’s an argument about size, and both sides of the argument are correct until another perspective is presented. Sometimes we are small. Sometimes we are big. It just depends on who you’re standing next to. Isn’t that what makes the world interesting? Variety?

Kids will love the way the argument escalates without ever really becoming threatening to young readers. (These are just fuzzy blue and orange guys, remember.) The text is perfect for partner reading just like the great Elephant and Piggie books or Duck! Rabbit!, and the ending will lead to plenty of discussion.

And possibly (hopefully!) a sequel.

Ivan: The Remarkable True Story of the Shopping Mall Gorilla by Katherine Applegate

If you haven’t yet read 2013 Newbery Medal winning The One and Only Ivan, you are missing what many consider a modern classic of children’s literature. It’s a powerful story of friendship and protection and identity and freedom and so much more.

Author Katherine Applegate has now added to Ivan’s story, or rather, given readers the true story behind the fictionalized version in Ivan: The Remarkable True Story of the Shopping Mall Gorilla. The book starts with the gorilla’s birth “in leafy calm, in gentle arms.” It tells how the gorilla didn’t learn about humans until it was too late, when poachers stole them from their jungle home. The book describes how Ivan, named in a contest, was raised as a human - sleeping in a bed, going to baseball games, and riding a motorcycle. Eventually Ivan grew beyond his owners’ ability to care for him.

Ivan was moved to a cage in a shopping mall where he became an oddity, an attraction, a way to draw customers. After nineteen pages of Ivan’s life before the mall, only six pages are devoted to Ivan’s life at the mall, but readers will clearly understand the bleak existence. He had a tire and a TV. He sometimes finger-painted. Most of his time was spent watching people watch him. The book concludes with eleven pages on his life after the mall.

This lyrical, nonfiction retelling of Ivan’s story is at times touching and heartbreaking and fulfilling. But I can’t get beyond the page breakdown. Twenty-seven years of Ivan’s life can be covered in only six pages? His life before the B & I Shopping Center - two lives, really - gets nineteen pages. Part of it covers a life of hoots, grunts, and chest-beats, a life with wrestling and chasing and swinging. The other part covers his life of diapers and clothes and a human family. Then twenty-seven years fly by in six pages? How miserable those twenty-seven years must have been!

If this book is read as a companion to The One and Only Ivan, this makes sense. Readers will be fully aware of Ivan’s bleak existence at the B & I Shopping Center (or the Exit 8 Big Top Mall and Video Arcade). Devoting the majority of the book to Ivan’s life before and after the mall gives readers a better understanding of his life as a whole.

While I loved this book, it was not the book I expected. I was looking for straight-up nonfiction like dates, timelines, photographs, and comparisons between factual Ivan and fictional Ivan. There are numerous online resources like Ivan's Wikipedia page, the description of Ivan’s life at Zoo Atlanta, background information from Katherine Applegate’s site, a variety of images of Ivan, and even the videos below, and I thought the book would bring all that information together.

Is it possible to be disappointed that a book was not what you expected yet not be disappointed in the book itself?

I’ll settle for online research. That’s fine. I’m glad we have this book. Charts and graphs and diagrams and timelines could never communicate the full range of emotions readers experience from this heart-felt look at Ivan’s life.

Kid Sheriff and the Terrible Toads by Bob Shea and Lane Smith

The book clarifies this on page two, so I’ll jump right in so everybody understands. Yes, Drywater Gulch had a problem with toads, but not the croaking, hopping kind. No. Drywater Gulch had a different sort of Toad problem. The Toad brothers.

“Why, those Toad brothers would steal your gold, kiss your cattle, and insult your chili. Hootin’, hollarin’, and cussin all the while.”

Now that’s a problem. The mayor was at a loss. Until … until …

Hope rode into town. Slowly. A boy, wearing white, riding a tortoise, and declaring himself the new sheriff. After all, he knows a lot about dinosaurs.

Okay, okay, I hear you. You were interested in the whole wild west thing, bad guys kissin’ cattle and all, and then you read about the tortoise and the dinosaurs and you were like, “Seems a bit sketchy to me. I don’t get it.”

Trust me. Kid Sheriff might not handle a shooting iron, ride a horse, know any rope tricks, or stay up past eight, but he makes a spectacular sheriff. When the bank gets robbed, the mayor suspects the Toad Brothers, and rightfully so. But Kid Sheriff declares it to be the work of T. rex. The stagecoach must be the Toad Brothers, right? Nope. Velociraptors.

Then the Toad Brothers themselves show up in town bragging - or trying to brag - about their antics, but Kid Sheriff has the real explanations. Cattle kissin’? Triceratops. Shoplifting at the mercantile? Allosaurus. And the chili insultin’ varmint was none other than Stegosaurus.

Now the Toad brothers are at a loss. How’s a nasty, gun-slingin’ gang supposed to get credit for their nefarious ways if gold stealin’, cattle kissin’, and chili insultin’ ain’t enough, dadgummit?!?

While you might not see a connection between a tortoise, dinosaurs, and the criminal old west, if you are already familiar with Bob Shea and Lane Smith’s work, you know a collaboration between these two author/illustrators will be something special. Kid Sheriff and the Terrible Toads delivers a goofy story, dastardly villains, a clever hero, and a hilarious and satisfying conclusion in all its absurd glory.

Cowboys. Dinosaurs. Heroes. Villains. What’s not to like?

Not a dad-burned thing. Consarnit.

Battle Bunny by Jon Scieszka and Mac Barnett

There are horrible children’s books. 

Seriously.

These books are sickly sweet and predictable, sometimes with happy (sappy?) lessons spelled out for readers too dense (no we're not!) to figure them out themselves. These tales often include fuzzy woodland creatures like Birthday Bunny who wakes up on his special day worried that all his woodland friends - Crow, Badger, Squirrel, Bear, and Turtle - have forgotten his special day. These tales might include crying, a Special Thinking Place, and overuse of the word special. (Exhibit A, left)

There’s only one man who can fix a story like this: Alex.

Of course you did Alex. And what a masterpiece you have created. But you have to admit, authors Jon Scieszka and Mac Barnett and illustrator Matthew Myers helped some, didn’t they?

Okay, okay. I won’t push the issue. This doesn’t need to come down to you vs. me.

Now, really. Name calling, Alex? Don’t you think if it really came down to a competition between the two of us it should be determined by wits or skill or strength? Not name calling. What do you think?

I can see this is getting nowhere. Can I just finish this book review?

Well, while you’re thinking, Alex, let me share some great things about your book.

Birthday Bunny was given to Alex by his Gran Gran on his special day. But Alex, being bored with sweet woodland creatures who cry in their Secret Thinking Place, takes matters into his own hands and creates:

But it’s not just the cover. The entire story changes, both the text and pictures. Hopping becomes chopping, carrot juice becomes brain juice, and a tediously dull story about Birthday Bunny’s friends forgetting his special day becomes Battle Bunny’s evil plot to take over the world. Not only that, but Alex himself becomes the story's hero, penciled in by the man himself. Way to go, Alex.

Way much cooler.

Alex’s use of eraser, pencil, and imagination is a tactic that should be replicated by kids around the world. As a teacher, I look forward to having kids duplicate the activity with $5.00 worth of books from the second-hand shop. You can even print a copy of the original Birthday Bunny at mybirthdaybunny.com and make your own version.

Of course teachers can come up with all sorts of creative ways to use Alex’s story, but don’t let classroom use get in the way of the pure enjoyment of Battle Bunny. Let kids read it. Let kids laugh. Let them be kids.

And then keep a close eye on your own books from Gran Gran. Some creative kid might get ahold of it and make it … better.

Mr. Tiger Goes Wild by Peter Brown

This conversation happened when I read Mr. Tiger Goes Wild aloud to two kindergartners:

Kindergartner 1: “He’s naked!”

Kindergartner 2: “But he’s a tiger!”

Kindergartners 1 & 2: [contemplative silence]

Yes, a character who normally wears clothing exits a city fountain sans clothing. So, by definition, he is naked. One can’t argue. At the same time, animals generally are naked, and tigers are animals. So is “He’s naked!” a statement of fact or an exclamation of shock?

To better understand this kindergarten conundrum, let’s step back to the beginning of the book. Mr. Tiger is a proper gentleman (top hat, bow tie, overcoat) in a city of proper ladies and gentlemen. But Mr. Tiger was bored with always being so proper. All of this “Good day” and “Lovely weather we are having” and “Indeed.” Boring.

Mr. Tiger wanted to loosen up, have fun, and be wild. So he did one of the wildest things this proper city had seen in some time. He walked on all four legs. This led to running and chasing and climbing and roaring. “And then Mr. Tiger went a little too far.”

He dove in the city fountain and exited au naturale. “Mr. Tiger!” shouted Ms. Elephant. “If you must act wild, kindly do so in the WILDERNESS!”

So he did.

Then this conversation happened with my two kindergartners:

Me: “What do you think is going to happen next?”

Kindergartner 1: “He’s alone.”

Kindergartner 2: “Yeah. He’s lonely.”

Me, turning the page and reading: “But Mr. Tiger was lonely.”

What should Mr. Tiger do? Don his top hat, bow tie, and overcoat and stroll two-legged back into that proper city? Or remain in the wilderness living the wild life? Could there be a middle ground?

After all, shouldn’t Mr. Tiger feel free to be himself? Shouldn’t we all?

I won’t give away Mr. Tiger’s decision or how the story turns out, but I will share that there are lessons to be learned in Peter Brown’s book. Be yourself. Respect others despite the differences. Don’t conform only to please others.

And maybe you should just stay out of the city fountain altogether.

My Teacher is a Monster by Peter Brown

Teachers. Monsters. Not all monsters are teachers, but all teachers have the potential to be monsters … at least in the eyes of their students.

Or in the eyes of specific students like Bobby, the paper airplane-throwing, chair-tipping, slowpoke main character in My Teacher is a Monster. “No recess for children who throw airplanes in class.” There’s only one kind of teacher who would say something like that, and Mrs. Kirby is that kind of teacher.

She’s a monster. Undeniably.

Author and illustrator Peter Brown quickly sets the stage for conflict between everykid Bobby and his teacher, Mrs. Kirby. Then he moves the story from the classroom to a Saturday in the park. What happens when Bobby and his monster end up on the same park bench?

“Bobby wanted to run! He wanted to hide! But he knew that would only make things worse.”

So he raised his hand. “Robert, you don’t need to raise your hand out here.”

It’s not the greatest start to a Saturday in the park sort of conversation, but it is a start. And where that conversation leads them, neither could have predicted.

Readers won’t see it coming either. There’s a lost hat, ducks, some quacking, some rock climbing, and some fantastic airplanery. Over the course of that Saturday in the park, Bobby learns something important about his teacher. Maybe, despite the roaring and the stomping at school, just maybe, Mrs. Kirby isn’t a monster. Maybe monsters are not always what they seem.

Don’t believe me? Compare the front cover to the back cover. Teachers. Monsters. One and the same? Take a look at what happens between the front and back cover and decide for yourself.

Just like Bobby did.

Sam and Dave Dig a Hole by Mac Barnett and Jon Klassen

Sam and Dave Dig a Hole by Mac Barnett and Jon Klassen is one of those books where, upon the first read, a grown-up might wonder, “Hmm. So. They dig a hole. And don’t find anything. Then they fall. Ooookay.” It’s on subsequent reads that grown-ups start to notice the little things missed the first time through.

But read it with kids and the magic starts immediately. When Sam and Dave declare they are going to dig a hole and not stop until they find something spectacular, young readers are ready to share the adventure.

At the outset, things don’t look good for our diggers. They just miss a huge diamond, digging straight down, just past it. That certainly would have been spectacular. Sam and Dave’s frustrations persuade them to change tactics. They dig horizontally (and miss something more spectacular). They split up and dig diagonally (missing something even more spectacular-er). When they decide to dig straight down again, they miss the most spectacular-er-est item of all.

Or do they? At the end, Sam and Dave agree that what happened was spectacular, but to me the best discoveries are the ones readers make that get them flipping back through the book.

“Hey, look at their dog! He knows! Was he doing that on the last page?” Flip, flip.

“Wait a second. Didn’t they have an apple tree?” Flip, flip.

“Check out that cat! See how the dog is looking at him?” Flip, flip.

Sam and Dave Dig a Hole pulls kids back inside, that won’t let readers turn the last page, and keeps them searching and discovering more.

And that, you have to agree, is pretty spectacular.

Kel Gilligan’s Daredevil Stunt Show by Michael Buckley

Kel Gilligan is the hero of my toddler self. He bravely takes on challenges that I would never have considered at his age. No way.

Broccoli. Yes, all of it and, yes, without complaining. In the end, he’s a bit weaker and greener, but unscathed. Me? Yeah, forget it. Even today.

There’s the potty. Even though it took longer than expected, and with no coloring book to help, he emerged victorious. Ta-Daaa! Me? Ask my mom about my potty experience (I was a two-year-old) the time we toured a house for sale. No victory for me, but thankfully it wasn’t a deal-breaker; we ultimately moved into the house.

Then there’s getting dressed. Kel Gilligan does it by himself. No net, no safety precautions, and no helmet (at least until he’s dressed). Spectators are amazed. Me? Shirt backwards. Shoes on the wrong feet. Fly unzipped.

Kel Gilligan allows Mom to talk on the phone uninterrupted. He takes on bath time with a brave face and comes out scrubbed and squeaky clean. He even takes on bedtime. The darkness, the monsters, no problem, right? Right?

In the end Kel learns an important lesson, despite his heroics. Some stunts are better left to the professionals. (But even professionals appreciate a little help.)

Michael Buckley captures the impossible tasks of childhood through the bravery of one unique, danger-loving adventurer, and Dan Santat’s illustrations support the daredevil vibe wonderfully. Kel dresses in red, white, and blue reminiscent of Evel Knievel. Some stunts are recorded on videotape, complete with battery levels and elapsed time in the corners. (Keep an eye on the time for Kel’s potty stunt.) Even Kel’s portrait on the wall features a scowl, and untamed lock of hair, and a t-shirt that reads “I ♥ DANGER.”

Kids will quickly understand how Kel takes on challenges many of them once faced themselves. With a little encouragement, and a little exaggeration, readers’ own stories might even rival Kel’s adventures.

And bonus points for reading the story in Don LaFontaine’s voice. Just because.

Niño Wrestles the World by Yuyi Morales

If you are looking for books that will engage young readers, do you really need to look beyond the cover of Niño Wrestles the World by Yuyi Morales to know the book will do just that? Seriously. There’s a boy in his briefs, wearing a professional wrestler’s mask, standing on a banner that proclaims “NIÑO” in bold letters, surrounded by stars, in a champion’s pose. The cover illustration itself screams, “Winner!”

Rest assured the rest of the book is a winner as well. “Señoras y señores, put your hands together for the fantastic, spectacular, one of a kind . . . NIÑO!” comes an announcement as Niño laces up his mask. What follows is challenge after challenge from out-of-this-world contenders.

La Momia de Guanajuato! Cabeza Olmeca! La Llorona! El Extraterrestre! El Chamuco! None can defeat the mighty Niño and his creative wrestling maneuvers. Until . . .

Las Hermanitas! Fresh from their afternoon nap! They tackle. They hold. They tickle. They stop at nothing and nearly give Niño the ultimate in wrestling shame - an unmasking!

Ah, but Niño didn’t become amazing and mighty by giving up easily. Will the mighty Niño take a mighty fall? Could Niño’s final match turn out to be his greatest victory? Tune in next week . . .

. . . or get your own copy of Niño Wrestles the World.

At first I struggled with some pronunciations, but thanks to our resident Spanish II student (my daughter) and the book’s endpapers, reading the book like a true wrestling announcer is possible. The endpapers feature pictures of each of Niño’s opponents along with their name, pronunciation, and description.

I thoroughly enjoyed Niño Wrestles the World, and I’m pretty sure that a great many kids will too, and not just those masked marauders in their briefs ready to take on all comers.

The Day the Crayons Quit by Drew Daywalt

Everybody gets tired of something, sometime. Teachers? Maybe it’s checking homework. Students? Maybe it’s completing homework. Kids get tired of cleaning their bedrooms while parents get sick of repeatedly reminding their kids to clean their bedrooms.

But does that mean that you can just quit what you’re doing? Shirk your responsibilities? Sure, you might take an occasional break, maybe delegate some responsibilities. But quit?

Yet that’s exactly what Duncan’s crayons decide to do in The Day the Crayons Quit. They’ve had enough. When Duncan goes to use his crayons, instead of finding them properly in their box he finds a stack of letters addressed to him. Each letter, one from each crayon, gives their individual complaints and reasons for quitting.

Red complains of having to work harder than all the other crayons - all the fire engines and apples for instance - in addition to all the Santas at Christmas and the hearts on Valentine’s Day.

Beige is tired of being mislabeled. It’s Beige. Not “light brown” or “dark tan.”

Gray complains that all he gets to color is big stuff - elephants, hippos, humpback whales.

All black gets to do is outlines. Nobody can even see white. Orange and yellow are in a snit over the correct color of the sun. Peach is embarrassed to be seen without a label, which Duncan tore off.

And who knew purple was such a neat freak? His complaint? Coloring outside the lines.

“Well, poor Duncan just wanted to color . . . and of course he wanted his crayons to be happy. And that gave him an idea.”

What could his idea be? What sort of creation could make all of Duncan’s crayons happy and still receive an A in coloring and an A+ in creativity? Don’t worry, Duncan’s got it covered colored.

As readers progress through the book, each page presents another letter, handwritten in the matching color, with illustrations that show each crayon’s complaints. The book could easily be used with students. What other things might cause a crayon to quit? Could we write our own letters? Would markers be different than crayons? What if everyone in your art box - scissors, glue sticks, rulers - quit? What would their reasons be, and what would their letters look like?

Even if you don’t use The Day the Crayons Quit by Drew Daywalt as the basis for some creative writing, the book works wonderfully as a read aloud and kids will never want to quit reading and rereading it.

! by Amy Krouse Rosenthal and Tom Lichtenheld

Technically, I guess, the title of this book is !. That’s all there is on the cover, anyway. A picture of a smiling exclamation mark. (To be fair the spine of the book does say exclamation mark, but I like the idea of a book having just punctuation as a title.)

What do you do if you stand out? What if, in a lineup of periods, you stand taller than the rest? That’s the question facing our main character, an exclamation mark. At first his response is to conform. Can he smoosh that tall thing above him? Flatten it into, I don’t know, some sort of squiggly hat or home-perm-looking-hairdo? Can one change who they really are?

The answer should be clear to us all. No. We are who we are, and we should be happy with that. Unfortunately many of us - adults and children - aren’t satisfied with our uniqueness, let alone amazed and thrilled by it, choosing rather to fit in with those around us.

And sometimes it takes a question mark to help us see why our uniqueness should be celebrated, not hidden.

After being bombarded by questions from this new questions mark acquaintance, he finally has enough. “STOP!” he screams, providing the final punctuation himself. His exclamation is surprising. He tries a “Hi!” and a “Howdy!” followed by a “Wow!” This new-found skill - or newly appreciated uniqueness - was amazing.

“It was like he broke free from a life sentence.”

And off he goes, to share what he can do with the world, including his old friends, the periods.

Even if the title of the book isn’t clear (Is it words? Punctuation?), we are sure of the author and illustrator. It’s the dynamic picture book team of Amy Krouse Rosenthal and Tom Lichtenheld. They’re the team behind books like The OK Book, Duck! Rabbit!, and It’s Not Fair!, and ! (or exclamation mark) is an equal addition to their impressive list of titles.

That Is Not a Good Idea! by Mo Willems

If you are one of those people who wait patiently for the next Mo Willems book release, wondering if it will be a welcome addition to children's libraries, stop it. Okay, keep up the waiting patiently part, but the whole wondering-if-it-will-be-good part? Stop that. His track record is pretty good, so until he releases a dud or two, just trust the man. He knows how to create books kids will love.

That Is Not a Good Idea! certainly continues the streak, and it's nice to be introduced to new characters (not that I wouldn't love more Pigeon or Elephant and Piggie).

Meet the players:

1. A slippery-smooth and hungry fox who politely uses phrases like "Excuse me..." and "Would you care to...?" He offers daisies to innocent victims pedestrians. He smirks a lot. He wears a suit, vest, and top hat. A top hat, people.

2. A kind and trusting plump goose who strolls innocently through the city, wide-eyed, carrying her basket. She wears a kerchief on her head. Kerchiefs are the distinct opposite of top hats. You've been warned.

3. A cautious bunch of baby geese who play the role of peanut gallery, sort of a Mystery Science Theater 3000 meets silent films in a children's book. Their main role is to point out the obvious. "That is NOT a good idea!"

When the fox invites the goose to go on a stroll, an invitation accepted by the goose, the baby geese point out how that's not a good idea. When he suggests the walk continue into a deep, dark woods - a suggestion once again accepted by the goose - they see how a bad idea is getting worse. "That is REALLY NOT a good idea!" they inform readers. What follows involves a kitchen, a pot of boiling water, and a close look at the soup in the pot, all of which is met by an emphatic, "That is REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY NOT a good idea!"

The ending is exactly what you'd expect. Except it's not. And I'm not telling. But it's awesome.

That Is Not a Good Idea! very much imitates a silent film. There are full-page pictures of the fox and goose followed by solid black pages with white text showing the characters' conversation. Interspersed throughout are the baby geese sharing their opinion, as if the reader turns from the screen to see what others in the theater are thinking. It's a perfect opportunity for readers - or for the grown-ups reading with youngsters - to stop and wonder together with the baby geese. Is that a good idea? Why? Why not?

And of course, there's that ending that will have you wondering even more.

Patrick Eats His Peas and Other Stories by Geoffrey Hayes

It’s good to know that literature imitates life. Or life imitates literature. Or is that art? Isn’t there a phrase something like that?

Whatever. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that on the day I got Patrick Eats His Peas and Other Stories - that very same day - THIS was cooking on the stove before dinner:

No kidding. “Little green balls of MUSHY POISON” as Patrick sings. My family heard everything around our own dinner table that Patrick tried at his. “I don’t like them,” and “I’m not hungry,” and “I’ll be sick.” There were attempts at bargains: “Could I eat just a few?” Peas were even hidden in napkins, just like Patrick.

There was one difference between our two families, however. While Patrick’s solution involved ketchup, jelly, and a good amount of stirring, the solution in our family was one Patrick simply could not use. “I’m the father, and if I don’t want to eat my peas, then that’s the way it is!”

Geisel Award winning author Geoffrey Hayes is back with a new book of short stories about Patrick, a follow up to Patrick in A Teddy Bear’s Picnic and Other Stories. In this latest installment, Patrick again shows what it’s like to be a kid. Try as he might to be a help to Dad, he just can’t seem to stay out of the way. Patrick’s bath time, which Mom won’t allow him to skip, of course, includes toys, splashing, “too hot,” more water, burbles, bubbles, and puddles. And bedtime includes all the reasons why it should NOT actually be bedtime according to Patrick. Just like kids everywhere.

Art imitates life. (I googled it.) And Patrick is an excellent mirror into the lives of the kids we know, kids who will love reading this new release from Toon Books.