by Tara Shafer posted in Parenting

Reading to my children is one of my greatest pleasures as a parent.
But I must confess that I have become a little inflexible. I love reading the books I loved as a child. I have resisted books published more recently. I have to ask myself why this is.

One of my most visceral memories of childhood is the public library on a hot summer?s day. I would choose a book and then escape up a tree to read.  There I read The House With A Clock in Its Walls by John Bellairs, Katie John by Mary Calhoun, The Four Story Mistake by Elizabeth Enright. Maybe I had some snacks in the pocket of my sundress. Possible.
But, as a parent, it would seem to be important to stay current. I need to call my own bulls?t. I have become too set in my ways. It would seem I'm conservative in my appreciation of literature for children. I even special ordered old editions of beloved books like the Ramona Quimby series or Pippi Longstocking because the recent printings don?t have the illustrations I recall. The old line drawings seem to have been replaced with pictures that look -- well, more garish. (I hate that).
I was forced to stretch when my daughter started wanting to choose her own books. It had been a little more difficult to draw her into chapter books, and so I was willing to meet her halfway. I thought that once she discovered how thick and rich a story could be, that she would see her way to the books I loved.
We started reading the Clementine series by Sara ...