Heartwarming Toddler Books

Over a year ago, I wrote a post called “A Brief and (Probably) Cynical Analysis of Children’s Books” in which I discussed some of my issues with the books I either read Mr. B or decided not to. I was a little appalled by the mother in The Runaway Bunny because she seemed to stifle her child’s curiosity. I grabbled Love You Forever off the shelf in a bookstore one day and skimmed it, only to find my jaw dropping as the white-haired mother drove across town to rock her adult son in the middle of the night. (I’ll admit, though, that when I finally, actually read Love You Forever to Mr. B a couple of months ago, only because he saw it on our table and asked, I started to cry and asked my husband to take over. Damn you, Robert Munsch, for making a hypocrite out of me!)

People left some really interesting comments on that post, some in agreement with my analysis, and others who helped me see the books in a new way. The magical thing about children’s books is that while they seem simplistic, there is so much emotional depth on every page. Add to that the experience of an often exciting, imaginative journey with your child, and people can get quite sentimental and protective of books they have read and loved. Sometimes it’s not even the story so much as the quiet routine, the memory of the images jumping off the page into a toddler’s wide eyes that makes a book seem transcendent long after we’ve stopped reading.

But I’m an English teacher. I’ve been trained to look at books critically. And while I love reading children’s books (most of the time), I can’t help but bring some of that critique to stories which to me, seem quirky. Weird. A little yucky.

When I pitched my article about my cynical analysis of children’s books to Babble, I was told it would be best if it could be a list of “10 Worst Toddler Books.” Ten was a lot to me. I could easily find 10 books I enjoyed, but not 10 I loathed. Still, it was an assignment, and I was determined to do a good and thorough job. I researched by asking questions of parents, preschool teachers, and perusing the shelves at local libraries and bookstores. I looked particularly at award winners, since that’s where parents tend to gravitate when they buy books for their children. I selected books that readers would recognize in a lineup. While I realized that thinking negatively about children’s books might not cause the best “attitude adjustment,” I did want to make people laugh and wonder about the strange lessons some books teach.

A few commenters seemed quite upset by my choices. They even seemed to take my critiques as personal insults. So I thought that for good measure, I’d write about some books that I love, just so I don’t seem like a total grouch.

Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown

This book feels like a beautiful meditation, one that parents and children remember long after kids have grown up. The rhyming lulls both parent and child in a dream-world while still reminding us of another era of “great rooms” where people hung wet socks by the fire and didn’t worry about mice eating their leftover bowl of mush. My husband says that when he was a child, his mother would close the book and they’d say goodnight to everything in his room before he drifted off to sleep. Isn’t that sweet?

Madeline Loves Animals by Jon Bemelmans Marciano

This is a new book we’ve added to our collection, a board book in the Madeline series that we got as a gift from a friend. (And it’s pronounced Madel-yne, people. Let’s just get that straight.) Madeline is a special little red-haired girl, like my daughter, though she seems to be more quiet than mine at 18 months. Madeline says good morning to butterflies, sips tea with a circus elephant, pets the cats in a Parisian neighborhood. And, like all good books, the last page involves Madeline going to bed, where all good children should be for at least 16 hours a day.

The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch

I found this book long, long ago, when I was a mere “bookseller” at a big chain bookstore. In those days, we employees grumbled about customers leaving their books all over tables and chairs, but we also took time to show each other books we found that were witty and cool. In my young feminist mind, this book by Robert Munsch was perfect–a princess defeats a dragon who has captured the prince. In the process, she loses her fancy dress and dirties her pretty hair, much to the prince’s disappointment upon their reunion. She calls him a bum and walks off into the sunset. (I read this to Mr. B., but he wasn’t impressed. I’ll have to keep working on him.)

Sometimes I Like to Curl Up in a Ball by Vicki Churchill and Charles Fuge

Again, rhyming is key, and this book does it beautifully. Mother of Runaway Bunny, take heed! This little wombat (yeah, I never heard of that animal, either) explores by day and comes home to his mother at night. He does all the things typical toddlers do: climb, splash in puddles, make funny faces. At the end of the day, though, “when the sun starts to fall,” he runs back to his mother’s arm to snuggle up and fall asleep. See? She didn’t need to become the puddles and live in the flowers while he played. Nope. Take some lessons from Ms. Wombat, Mother Bunny.

When you’ve closed the book, you get to tell your little one how lucky he is not to have to sleep in a ball in his mother’s arms all night, but in his very own Big Boy Bed with a Thomas the Train blanket. That little wombat would be uber-jealous. Okay? Nighty-night!

Five Little Ducks illustrated by Jose Aruego and Arianne Dewey

Five little ducks went out one day, over the hills and far away…. Mother Duck said “Quack, quack, quack, quack,” but only four little ducks came back. This is an illustrated nursery rhyme which continues much the same way as more and more of Mother Duck’s children leave, until they’re all, eventually, gone. For two anxious pages, Mother Duck can’t even quack. She’s looking under leaves and in snow, lonely, desperate for her children. But finally, they all return, with their own little ducks in tow. This book works for kids since it’s so lyrical, but it is a gentle reminder to parents that while children leave the nest, they eventually return to make the family even bigger. (If you’re hormonal, this one might make you cry.)

The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein.

While I know it has many critics, I love this book. Many readers are horrified by the way the beautiful, vibrant tree ends up a stump, while the little-boy-turned-grown-man takes and takes her leaves, her apples, her branches, her bark. Most women who read it immediately see the tree as a metaphor for a mother, and they don’t like that the tree’s generosity can easily be interpreted as constant sacrifice for a greedy child. I can see why some feel that way, but something overwhelming happens to me when I read this book. I can’t even talk about it without tearing up. To me, it’s about the human spirit, the desire to put another’s needs before your own. This is something we all strugge to do, but the tree does it effortlessly, beautifully, with grace, without resentment, regret, or hesitation. There’s something beautiful in the authenticity of that.

What are some of your favorite children’s books? (Maybe this post should have been titled, “Children’s Books That Make You Cry.”)

Read another post about children’s books I like here.

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Tagged as: Babble.com, children's books, Five Little Ducks, Goodnight Moon, Madeline Loves Animals, Sometimes I Like to Curl up in a Ball, The Giving Tree, The Paper Bag Princess