library

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Library Etiquette for Kids

I breathed in deep, watching the antics of the children surrounding me.  They built their towering Lego structures then knocked them down in a furiously chaotic jumble – pieces flying, fought emphatically with plastic dinosaurs, screamed with delight at cartoons blaring from the TV, and raced Matchbox Cars around the racetrack themed rug.  Their incessant, ear-splitting squeals and generally deafening racket filled my ears at this amazing birthday party.  One child in particular screamed for two and a half hours straight; I didn’t know this was physically possible. It was impressive really.

But wait.

It wasn’t a birthday party.  This was during my recent trip to the library! Okay, so even though the title says “Library Etiquette for Kids,” it really should read “Library etiquette for parents who let their kids run around and invade every quiet space anywhere, ever.”

What happened to the days of yore when librarians glared over their horn-rimmed glasses and “shhh-d” kids with a menacing shhh that could not, would not be ignored?  Instead, they build an entire open air playground for them within the sacred walls of mystery, reading, and learning.    Gone are the days of teaching children that there is a time and a place for play, and that the library is most definitely not one of these places.

Do you want your kids to blow off steam?  Newsflash:  there are places designed just for that purpose.  Chuck E. Cheese, for example, the park, a playground, or a Bounce Zone come to mind.  Call me old-fashioned, but I still believe in the sanctity of the library. Okay, okay, I know I get up to my own library shenanigans, but hey, at least I’m QUIET about it. I mean, this is serious business, people.

I remember the good old days, when I would go to the library with my friends or parents and read, study, or research…not to mention stock up on books to take home. So quiet were these spaces that you didn’t dare giggle or you would risk being loudly hushed by the bespectacled Gargoyle behind the Counter.

During my fateful trip to the kid zone, I mean, library, there were several high school students scattered around at tables, attempting to have lessons with tutors; my daughter herself was there with a tutor trying to take a test.  These kids and their tutors had to raise their own voices to be heard over the ruckus coming from the kid’s corner.  The resulting cacophony brought to mind a football game or a bar; in fact, if I had a drink in my hand, this atmosphere would have been easier to understand…and to tolerate. Maybe.

I’m afraid of a future where kids have no respect for anything or anyone.  The heart of respect and learning could be found in the pages of the world that surrounded these kids at this specific moment in time and instead, they careened all around this indoor playground and paid no attention to the wonders that could have been found on the shelves right in front of their eyes.

What does this say about the parents?  I do understand that some parents need to use the library and have no-one to watch the kids for a few minutes; trust me, I get it. Been there, done that. But, here’s a novel idea (see what I did there?): encourage your kids to read.  Help them to learn.  Point them in the direction of books that challenge their minds, warm their hearts, encourage their imagination.

If they can’t read yet, sit them down with picture books – it’s a library for god’s sake –  there are a myriad of options and opportunities to open your children up to the world of books. If you allow your kid to run wild in a library, you may be part of a bigger problem.  If you cannot teach your kids that they need to be quiet in some situations, Great Aunt Abigail’s funeral will be quite an interesting event.

What do these “play areas” say about the librarians and management of these once fine institutions?  Are they afraid to ask parents to (gulp, gasp) be PARENTS?  Who came up with this fantastic idea of allowing kids to play loudly in a building that is traditionally used to study, read, and learn?

Now, of course I know that kids need to play.  I am a big proponent of kids playing and burning off energy, socializing, sharing and laughing.  I am also a big supporter of the idea, “a time and a place for everything.”

To me, the library is not the place for unrestrained, rowdy free-for-alls.  Allowing this behavior is disappointing for the people who still choose to use the library as intended, and for the kids themselves as they ignore thousands of books full of wonderful, wild adventures.

I guess I’m done with this rant for now; I need to go to Chuck E. Cheese and read a book.

 

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Library Shenanigans

I was waiting for my daughter to finish with her tutor yesterday at the library, and having already chosen the books I was taking home, I got a little bored.  So, I decided to amuse myself.

  • I grabbed a thick atlas off the Geography shelf and slammed it open at a table full of people. I pored over one page with a magnifying glass while mumbling “There it is!  The biggest treasure in history, just like Grandpa told me, right here on page 98!  He was right; I’m rich!”  Then, I slammed the book shut and put it back on the shelf full of atlases.
  • I went to the Wildlife section and made bird calls from behind the shelf any time anyone came over. My repertoire is quite impressive I’ll have you know.
  • I chose one person and followed him all around the library. Hiding behind the shelves, I kept popping my head out and whispering, “I see you.”
  • I found a book about time travel, then waited for people to come down the aisle before rifling through the pages and muttering angrily, “If only they knew. I could have saved them all.”
  • Strolled up to the librarian and announced, “I’ll have a Big Mac, small fries, and a diet Coke.” She was not amused.
  • I walked out of the bathroom with a thick book and said, “Geesh, I wouldn’t go in there for a while.”
  • I brandished a genealogy book over my head, screaming, “I knew it! Bow down before me!”
  • I read a comic book and kept spewing a running commentary of the entire thing. “Don’t go in there, Batman! Don’t do it! Oh, snap, he went in! Look out!”
  • Grabbed a book on dream interpretation and thumbed through it, feverishly mumbling “Giant mutant flying cannibalistic panda bears…”
  • Paged through a cookbook while sitting at a crowded table, whispering, “Where IS that kitten stew recipe?”
  • Pretended to have a heart attack in front of the CPR manuals. No-one noticed.
  • Built a fort out of books about forts.  The brilliance of this was lost on the security guards. They have no appreciation for genius.

They say I can be allowed back in the library by 2018, with adult supervision. No fair if you ask me.

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Reading is FUNdamental

It might be a bit of an understatement, but I love to read. It’s one of my favorite activities. On average, I read two or three books a week. Sometimes I do it to keep the brain firing but mostly it’s just flat-out fun. To me, there’s really nothing better than curling up with a book that takes me to faraway places with interesting characters, especially after a hard day at work.

One of my favorite genres is horror. I know, I know. Very relaxing, Wendy. I like the modern classics. Stephen King and H.P. Lovecraft are a couple of my favorite scribes, but I’ll give just about any horror author a decent shot at winning me over. Mysteries—both hardcore authors like Alex Kava or whimsical writers like McCall Smith—can often be found on my nightstand. Agatha Christie is a true favorite. Then there’s science fiction, another favorite. Old, new, it doesn’t matter. I read it all. Even genre-bending authors like Kay Hooper who intertwines mystery-thrillers with a psychic/supernatural twist can be really fun. As hard as it might be to reconcile this next one given what you know about me, I do enjoy Jane Austen as well.  And yes, I’m also a comic book nerd. I know. Big surprise there, I know.

Even though I am a legit, full-grown adult I have not escaped the blast radius of the cataclysmic Young Adult boom either. Harry Potter?  Yep, I’ve read them too.  Look down on them if you must, but I don’t believe that everything you read has to be on par with Dickens. I’d heard that some parents kept their kids from reading these delightful books because they thought it celebrated witchcraft and their kids would turn into Satan-lovers or something ridiculous like that.  That was a minority of parents and I’m thankful for that because that book series single-handedly got an entire generation absolutely bonkers on reading again. It was great. The books couldn’t come out fast enough and the kids were thrilled to be READING!  Imagine that!? READING of all things!  And parents were trying to squash that. I just don’t understand some people.

At a time when the fear that iPhones and tablets and PSPs and social media were going to rot the brains of our youth, the Harry Potter collection got them reinvigorated on flipping through paper pages. They were reading. Not posting or updating or following or pinning. And I totally get why. I freakin’ loved those books. And they were not all easy reads as one might expect. J.K. Rowling did not hold back on the drama, the emotions, or the suspense. These novels were super exciting in spite of, or maybe because of, the emotional roller-coaster the author put us devoted readers on, and worthy of all the accolades they received.

A few people I know pointed out, as if I didn’t know, that—gasp—those are kids’ books. Their eyebrows would arch as they not so silently judged my reading selections. This air of pretentiousness is starting to pervade our literature choices and I just want to say, let’s not get too snobby, people.

Take book clubs for example. If you’ve ever joined a book group, you know that they usually don’t read “fun” books. No light romances or whimsical mysteries or horror novels for them. Heaven forbid they admit that they like a fun story more than some bloated philosophical 3,000 page masterpiece that takes forever to get through.

No disrespect to Tolstoy of Dostoevsky or Nobokov, but I don’t quite get why a club would choose a book where it’s hard to really understand the “point” behind them even after you’ve read them twice or even three times (but you say you do just so you don’t look stupid in book club)! Yeah, yeah, yeah, they’re classics. They deserve their place in the annals of great literature, but I’m just going to say it: No one really enjoys these books. The problem is that most people in book clubs only say they do so their peers won’t look down on them or think they’re “reading challenged.”

That last paragraph was not just all speculation. I belonged to a book club back in the day. It was mind-numbingly boring. I gave it a good college try though hoping it would broaden my horizons but I only lasted a couple of books. The material they chose was sooo stale. To my credit, or discredit – however you want to view it – I could read the material…easily…I just didn’t want to.  I know, I know, that sounds like something a toddler would say, but oh well. Why read something you’re not going to enjoy? Before bowing out I did notice that no one else in the club seemed to relish the book list either. Yet no one spoke up and said, “Can we please just pick out something fun to read?”

I think it’s high time we remove the snobbishness. I say, if you’re reading, that’s great! It doesn’t matter what you’re reading just so as long as you’re enjoying it because it’s supposed to be a truly relaxing hobby. So, please, read anything. Read comic books or Stephen King or J.K. Rowling or Danielle Steele. Just have fun doing it.

Reading builds the mind and offers an escape from everyday life. While it’s good to learn and improve yourself by stretching your comfort zone, there’s no reason why it always has to be overly challenging or arduous. You should never sulk or heavy sigh when you think about the book you’re about to crack open. Read a book that’s fun sometimes instead of always choosing material that hurts your brain. And don’t let others bring you down for what you read.  Ever.

Remember: Reading should be FUNdamental!

girl reading

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LIE-BRARY

A little while ago my daughter and I found ourselves roaming through a library we had never been to before.  We visit our own library weekly but sometimes we feel the need to branch out to adjacent counties to see what they have to offer. While the content of this one was surely the same, the layout and design made us feel as if we were discovering a new domain. My daughter is a teenager but as we were exploring the terrain, we gravitated towards the children’s section which began an impromptu trip down Memory Lane. We picked out some of the old favorites with glee and memories of reading these to her when she was a wee child came flooding back. The sense of nostalgia was intense as we thumbed through several of Jan Brett’s books like Hedgie’s Surprise, The Trouble with Trolls, The Hat, and Honey, Honey, Lion! just to name a few.

Running our hands up and down the pages my daughter and I thought it would be fun to recreate that feeling when I’d read to her as she drifted off to sleep. It’s silly I know, here we are in a public library, my daughter almost old enough to drive, but we (as always) felt confident in our silliness. We’re goofy that way. Making our way to the check-out counter with a stack of books in tow, we were chattering excitedly about our evening’s reading itinerary. Our giddy daze was abruptly halted when we got to the counter and were met face to face with the sobering reality of a very stern, lace collar wearing, bi-focaled librarian who looked down at my 15 year old daughter with annoyance. Maybe we had been laughing a bit loud for the environment…but I’m not sure why my daughter bore the brunt of “the look.” Thankfully, the librarian tried to put on a happy face as I handed her my brand spanking new library card.

Scanning through our stack she asked, “So are you teaching a unit on Jan Brett to your class?” Needless to say, the question threw me off. I was a little confused but using my ample reserve of cool-under-fire suaveness I said, “Whaaat?” The librarian responded, “You’re a teacher, right?  Teaching a unit on Jan Brett?”  That seemed like a pretty great (and normal) conclusion to come to, so rather than explain our goofiness to someone who didn’t look at all like she would understand such goofiness, I quite simply and seriously replied, “Why, yes. Yes I am.”  I’m sure there is a special place in hell for those of us who lie to stern, elderly librarians. But that’s okay. I’ve already been told my place there is a given…guess this just sealed the deal.

 

librarian we get

librarian we get

 

very cool librarian

librarian we want

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An Unrepentant Addiction Redux

So in honor of National Library Week, I’m going to repost a bit of a previous entry about my love of books. Believe it or not this obsession with books even outweighs my obsession with all manner of horror films. I know, I know, but it’s true.

So when my son was little, and then again with my daughter, we’d make the weekly trek to the library, dufflebag in hand, prepared to raid their shelves of as many books as I could physically carry out to the car by myself.  Oftentimes it was quite the struggle out to the parking lot (and then again into the house) and to an outsider it probably looked as though my bag was filled with bricks what with the way it bent my back. And trust me, this was not an exercise made in vain either…we actually read every book we stuffed into that dufflebag, usually before the week was over. Our bedtime ritual was quite a lengthy one given the fact that we had to read 5 or 6 books each night. Keep in mind, we had books of our own…stacks and stacks of books. But we soon exhausted our own supply and since I didn’t have a money tree in my backyard for trips to Barnes and Noble, the library was a weekly fixture for us. Of course they’re older, but my kids retained their love of books…as have I.  And my house shows it.

Now, if you’ve ever been at home watching network TV in the late morning/early afternoon, during The Price is Right, Family Feud, or any old school soap opera you’ve no doubt seen those cheesy coffee commercials where a woman wrapped tight in a pastel shawl has her hands cupped around a steaming mug of French Roast. Without a care in the world she looks out the window of her breakfast nook just contemplating how wonderful of a morning it is. She’s in no rush at all to start the day and just basks in the comforts her caffeine and nook are providing her. How silly, right? Well…

I want that! Not exactly that, but close to it. The only thing I’d change about those commercials is that instead of standing around like a zombie I’d be curled up in a decked out bay window seat with a good book in my hands. It’d be a requirement.

Books, reading, literature…appreciation of the written word is the lifeblood of my house. I may not have the breakfast nook or the time to laze around in the mornings or a sprawling vista of oaks and elms rolling into the distance from my backyard, but I do have the book part down. They’re absolutely everywhere; stacked on nightstands, scattered around the bed, piled on stairs, and littering the kitchen counter. Hell, it’s not rare at all to find a book under my bed covers because I fell asleep reading (again). My daughter’s room is practically a library in and of itself.  Even the spare room isn’t safe and has more than its share of bookshelves.  We’re hopeless addicts (a nicer way to say this would be bibliophiles) to novels, tomes, epics, thrillers, horrors, mysteries, best sellers, unknowns, contemporaries, and classics. It’s all fair game.

This addiction doesn’t make for the tidiest house in the world but certainly an entertaining one seeing as how you can literally stumble across a good story at any given moment. While the rest of the Barnes and Nobles are going down quicker than the Titanic, I may be single-handedly keeping the one near my house in business. Every time I go in there with my daughter any cash I may be fortunate enough to have in my pockets is quickly transformed into a bag of books.   You can never have too many, right? At least that’s my understanding. It’s simply impossible for us to window-shop in a book store.

On top of the whole Barnes and Nobles temptation problem I have, there is another one closer to home.  The downtown area of my neighborhood is reminiscent of Mayberry (showing my age here).  And right smack in the center of the main drag next to the coffee shop is a used/rare book store. It’s large and dusty and unorganized and the guy who runs it looks like he hasn’t stepped out into the light in decades.  But it’s a treasure trove to me!  I could seriously spend hours in this place.  And have.  I enjoy everything this hole in the wall offers — the smells of the old books, the joyous wonder of searching through the shelves to find some rare book I’ve never seen before or perhaps one that I remember from my childhood or maybe a classic in its original print rather than the abridged edition.  They’re all fodder for my unrepentant book compulsion.  And did I mention it’s right next door to a coffee shop!?  Nirvana.

One day I may have a house that has that beautiful vintage inspired reading nook complete with a cushioned window seat and surrounding bookshelves in an oh-so-cute and artistic arrangement.  Until then, though, I’ll enjoy the hard and softbound jungle that is my cluttered home, which really, in itself has become the greatest reading nook of all.

The literacy site