A while ago Rowan started asking us to read him a ’story with our hands’. This means using our hands to make a book shape and making a story up. He usually requests ‘only three’ stories which is sometimes a bit taxing for the cogs of my imagination…

At three and a half, Rowan has loved hearing our made-up stories, something I remember loving when I was little too. What’s even nicer is hearing him make up the occasional story with his hands too.

This development has also coincided with Rowan’s new enthusiasm for exploring the breadth of his bookshelf. Not so long ago I remember the phase when Rowan wanted the same few books over and over every night. Now he requests a book he’s never had before, or one we haven’t read for ages. Scary as it is, it isn’t difficult for us to find several new books on Rowan’s shelf that we’ve never read together before. Proof of how much I’ve spent on picture books over the years…

‘Stories with our hands’ are quite convenient when out and about, like at a cafe. Rowan has realised, however, that my hands are otherwise occupied when I’m driving. When we are in the car the request from the back seat is ‘Please can we have a story with your brain, Mama?’

Would love to hear how ‘made-up’ stories are/were told in your house…

We are definitely in the midst of the ‘Why?’ phase with Rowan. Seems like it has already been going on for a while and friends tell me that it keeps going for a lot longer again… I know it’s healthy, but sometimes I just like to get through a page of a book at bedtime without five questions about the story and the illustrations.

So last night I could hardly believe it when Rowan sat absolutely absorbed and completely silent as I read him for the first time A Story for Bear by Dennis Haseley and illustrated by Jim La Marche.

The book tells the story of a friendship between a bear and a woman who lives for a time in a woodland cabin. The bear stumbles upon the cabin and sees the woman reading. He is very curious about the square object that she holds, which at times makes her laugh, and at others afraid or pensive. Day by day the bear gathers courage until he is able to lie close to the woman. For the shortening days of summer, and until the leaves change colour, she reads to him. And although the bear can’t understand her words, he feels the emotions conveyed through her voice. Her words make a story: a story for her bear.

I’m not sure which aspect of the story was so captivating for Rowan – it could have been the idea of a wild bear meeting a human for the first time, or perhaps the bear’s perspective, learning about the existence of books and the power of storytelling. Whatever the reason, it was wonderful for me to share a book with him that is very special to me – it was Lou who gave me my copy and I think it is such a beautiful story about the wonders of reading.

I also love Jim La Marche’s illustrations – I reviewed another beautiful book of his, Albert, here. He has such a talent for illustrating light and shadow, and this is done so beautifully again for the woodland scenes in A Story for Bear.

||A Story for Bear is available in the We Heart Books store||

An update from motherland… thanks everyone for the lovely comments and emails. Otto is doing very well – we are lucky that so far he seems very settled baby. This is considerate of him as Lou and I have been very busy with preparing the store for Christmas and Magnolia Square. Otto will be coming with us to Magnolia Square – he may just be the youngest member in the audience at our storytime sessions.

Here are some photos of cuddles with Rowan…

Planning to post some photos of some corners of Otto’s nursery soon.

The Tiger Who Came to Tea is one of those books that I don’t recall having on my bookshelf as a child, but it nevertheless made a big impression on me and I remember it very fondly. It has been on my mental wishlist for ages, and when some colleagues gave me a bookstore gift voucher before I went on maternity leave last month, I used it to buy two picture books. One had to be a beautiful hardback edition of this book.

Rowan is into tigers in a big way at the moment – he is obsessed with David Attenborough documentaries – so we have both loved reading this book together.

A little girl called Sophie opens the door one day to find a big, furry, stripey tiger on her doorstep. When the tiger asks if he can join them for tea, Sophie’s mummy invites him in. But the tiger turns out to be very, very hungry – he not only eats all the food and drink on the tea table but proceeds to raid the kitchen, eating all the food on the stove, in the fridge, and even all the water from the taps.

Eventually the tiger leaves, and Sophie and her mummy are left to figure out what to do – there is nothing for supper and Sophie can’t even have a bath because all the water has been drunk from the taps…

First published in 1968, The Tiger Who Came to Tea is gloriously old-fashioned. Taking place in the days of the milkman and the grocery boy, it is a time when daddy’s supper was prepared in time for his arrival home and going out for dinner was practically unheard of. I love Sophie and her mummy’s outfits; Sophie’s purple pinafore and checkerboard tights are perfect!

I think one of the reasons I loved this book was the fact that it presented elements of fantasy as real. The scenario of a tiger appearing at the door appears perfectly reasonable, as is the idea that the water can be drunk from the taps. When Sophie and her mummy go to the supermarket to replenish supplies, they make sure that they buy a big tin of tiger food. What else do you buy in case a tiger were to stop by?!

The text is beautifully understated – I especially love the page showing the family walking down the High Street on their way out to supper. You can tell how special the outing is to Sophie, how rare it is for her to be out in the street after dark…

So they went out in the dark, and all the street lamps were lit, and all the cars had their lights on, and they walked down the road to a cafe.

Judith Kerr also wrote the series of picture books about Mog the cat, and I only realised tonight that she was author of a young adult novel that I dearly loved, When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit. If you are familiar with her books, you should definitely read this lovely interview with Judith published in the Telegraph.

||The Tiger Who Came to Tea is available from Amazon||

Rowan has recently been able to spend some time with his great grandmother, my Nana. Here they are reading a few weeks ago.

My Nana was an amazing person, and an inspiration to me. She went to university at a time when not many women did. She was a pharmacist and co-ran a small business, at the same time as having four children under 9. She made legendary Anzac biscuits. She had a big family of children, grand-children and one great-grandchild, Rowan. How lucky he is to have known her, and to have shared with her some good books.

Following on from my post earlier in the week on Andy Griffiths’ memories of Struwwelpeter, it has been  interesting for me to think about whether sometimes we might consciously or subconsciously protect children from books that we think are scary or gross in some way. And how an adult sense of  humour and sensitivity to these things is different from that of a little person.

Not nearly as gruesome as Struwwelpeter but still somewhat ‘frank’ are two wordless Pamela Allen books Rowan is loving at the moment: Simon Did and Watch Me. He started to read these at Nanou’s house and has borrowed them to read over and over at home. (Unfortunately both are now out of print, but could still be available at libraries.)

In Simon Did, Simon is at the zoo, where he boldly disobeys the sign that reads ‘DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS’. Some unfortunate consequences ensue including, in the end, Simon being swallowed himself. Rowan loves reciting the words of the sign, and doesn’t seem at all perturbed by the messy ending for Simon.

In Watch Me, each page of the story pictures a little boy doing a trick on his bike – no hands, standing on one foot, etc – as he rides faster and faster down the hill. He hits a stone, and comes tumbling over the handlebars, and the closing page shows him in tears with a serious bump on his head. Being wordless, the illustrations are central to the meaning, and the bike’s increasing speed is cleverly shown by the steepness of the hill and by the ears of his companion dog which fly back at an increasing rate. It’s no coincidence that ‘Watch me, Mama!’ has recently become part of Rowan’s vocabulary in daily use…

No happy ending in either of these books – in fact you might even imagine they could induce some nightmares – yet Rowan loves them. Any other gruesome or miserable endings in books you’re surprised little people are enjoying?

Spring at our place too – here is a photo of Rowan in our yard. (He’s wearing a T-shirt from the Justine Clarke concert – is anyone else humming ‘I like to sing’ like I am constantly…? For a fitting review of the concert, hop over to House’n'Baby.)

Anyway, have recalled that way back when we first started this blog, I predicted that Monkey and Me would be the first book Rowan would ‘read’ to us. Well, I was close, but not quite right.

The last two nights he has ‘read’ (using a combination of memory and picture association) Orange Pear Apple Bear by Emily Gravett. And he’s pretty chuffed about it.

Would love to hear about the first books that other toddlers have ‘read’ – tell us in the comments!

My sister Jane returned from Italy in time for Rowan’s birthday. She gave him a gorgeous Italian-inspired birthday present – a copy of the Robert Ingpen illustrated Pinocchio and a gorgeous Pinnochio print for his room. She even found a Pinocchio card – which would also look gorgeous in a frame.

Robert Ingpen has illustrated a range of classics for Templar Publishing and they are beautiful productions. Lou reviewed The Wind in the Willows here, and I gave Rowan a copy of Ingpen’s Peter Pan for his first birthday. The illustrations are so fitting, and after reading one, you almost forget there could possibly be any other version of illustration for these stories. Soft and dreamlike, they imbue a sense of old-world charm. The fact that Robert Ingpen is Melbourne born and bred is icing on the cake for me!

I love endpapers, and these Pinocchio endpapers are some of the nicest I’ve seen in a while.

One of our favourite toddlers had his 2nd birthday party on Sunday, and you can imagine my joy when his beautiful cake was brought out…

A Very Hungry Caterpillar cake! What a creative and practical idea – individual cupcakes is such a good option, and arranging them into a shape is brilliant. The varying shades and textures of green were so evocative of Eric Carle’s illustrations. And candle antennae – what can I say?!

Nuwan and Rowan lined up and could hardly wait to try the chocolate cakes and strawberries.

Thanks to chef Joey, photographer Bryan and mum Nicci for sharing these pics.

I’m a little ashamed to say this, but we didn’t have a copy of Goodnight Moon on our shelves until I bought a copy for Rowan this week. First published in 1947, I’m actually not sure whether this title was very prominent in Australia when I was growing up. It isn’t one I remember from my childhood, or even from my early bookselling days. Don’t know if I was under a rock – maybe other Aussies can shed some light…

I’m confident the same couldn’t be said of US readers, as the book seems to be have been a hugely popular classic there. It is of course very popular here now too. Numerous ‘celebrity mom’ citings of Goodnight Moon verge on the off-putting (especially if you have a perverse streak like me). Anyone from Hilary Clinton to Tori Spelling seems keen to mention Goodnight Moon. Even ‘our’ Cate and Naomi are fans.

At first reading, the text of Goodnight Moon may almost seem a little glib. But you soon realise its charm. The rhyming, lilting text is mesmerising and the repetition of the words and illustrations is just so comforting. It is the quintessential bedtime story.

The book got a resounding nod of approval from Rowan. He is going through a stage at the moment when he often resists new books, especially at bedtime when he refuses anything unfamiliar. But he picked up Goodnight Moon with some curiousity and happily listened to a first reading and then requested THREE further readings.

There’s a lovely post over on Collecting Children’s Books discussing the identity of the ‘quiet old lady’ who features in Goodnight Moon. Worth reading, especially if you remember the story from when you were young.