Tag: preschoolers

  • 5 Amazing Brazilian Children’s Authors

    5 Amazing Brazilian Children’s Authors

    When I first began shopping for children’s books in Brazil, I had a hard time finding books by Brazilians. It was crazy. I was in Saraiva, one of the major chain bookstores in Brazil, and I noticed the books I’d picked were all translations from American authors. So I began hunting for books by Brazilians. I picked up one book after another. Published in France. Published in the UK. Published in Italy. I picked up one with a Macaw on the front. Macaws are from the Amazon. It had to be Brazilian. Nope. Published in Columbia.

    There are of course many amazing Brazilian authors writing for children, but despite amazing native authors and children’s lit community, I had to research and order books by Brazilians. My local chain bookstore in Vitoria was no help, which is just wrong.

    So I’d like to introduce five of my favorite Brazilian children’s book authors. I’ve included links for English translations when available. Based on what Spanish speaking friends have told me, a native Spanish speaker should have no trouble reading the Portuguese, but I’d love to get more Brazilian kid lit translated into English. I’ll add it to the list of life goals.

    ANA MARIA MACHADO

    Machado was born in Rio de Janeiro in 1941 and has written over 100 books for children. In 2000, Machado won the international Hans Cristian Andersen Award, which designated her one of the greatest children’s authors in the world. She began writing in 1969 and wrote specifically for children because during the military dictatorship in Brazil, children’s literature along with poetry and song, “were amongst the few literary forms with which, through the poetic and symbolic use of language, you could make the ideas of a joie de vivre, individual freedom and respect for human rights known.” Some of her most famous books include A Menina Bonita do Laço de Fita, about a white bunny who desperately wants to become a beautiful black like the little girl next door and the advice she gives him, and Bisa Bia, Bisa Bel, about a girl’s internal dialogue with her great-grandfather and her own great-granddaughter. A Menina Bonita do Laço de Fita is available in English on Amazon.

     

     

    CECILIA MEIRELES

    Born in Rio de Janeiro in 1901, Meirelles published her first work at the age of 18, and she was every bit the genius you’d assume based on that fact. She’s known in Brazil primarily as a poet, but she was also a professor, journalist, painter, playwright, and fiction author. There aren’t many types of writing she didn’t publish in. She could do it all. Meirelles was one of the first women in Brazil to be recognized as a great literary voice. Some of her most famous works for children are   “O Cavalinho Branco”, “Sonhos de Menina”, and “O Menino Azul”. The musicality of her lines is so strong, that “O Menino Azul” still sounded lovely when I read it aloud. (And as all adult learners of a second language know, nothing is harder to read aloud in a foreign language than poetry.) I haven’t been able to find any of her children’s works translated into English, but you can find many of her most famous poems translated in this anthology of Brazilian poets.

     

     

     

    EVA FURNARI

    Furnari is an Italian-Brazilian author-illustrator. I’ve been able to forgive her for hoarding so much talent (author-illustrators seem so unfairly awesome) because her characters are so delightfully quirky. Born in Rome in 1948, she moved to São Paulo at the age of two and has lived there ever since. She came to children’s books in the early 1980’s through art and initially worked exclusively an illustrator before creating her own characters and stories. One of her most famous characters is A Bruxinha Zuzu or Zuzu the Little Witch, who never quite seems to master the power of her magic wand.  Many of Funari’s books are textless, including our favorite A Bruxinha Zuzu e o Gato Miú, and can be enjoyed regardless of what languages you read. One of her most famous and award winning stories, Felpo Filva,  is available in English as Fuzz McFlops in both the US and UK.

     

     

    SONIA JUNQUEIRA

    Born in the state of Minas Gerais in 1945, Junqueira published her first book at the age of 37 and has gone on to write more than 100 children’s books. She worked as a professor and editor before becoming an author. My daughter and I discovered Junqueira through a book swap at school. My daughter, always the animal lover, picked up a book with a cute cat on the front porch. I was the first story in verse that was more poetry than story and I honestly wasn’t sure how well she’d like it. A Poesia na Varanda was a hit and inspired me to buy Where the Sidewalk Ends during our Christmas trip to the US. I haven’t found any English translations but many of her world are available outside Brazil in Portuguese through Kindle.

     

     

    VERONICA STIGGER

    Stigger is not really known as a children’s author. She’s a journalist, art critic, and writer primarily for adults known for challenging rules of genre and format in her work. Born in the state of Porto Alegre in 1973, Stigger began working as an essayist for radio and television. She then pursued a PhD in Art theory and Criticism and pursued research and various post-doctoral work before publishing her first collection of stories for adults in 2004. So not a career kid lit writer. However, one of her most recent books, Onde a Onça Bebe Água, Where the Jaguar Drinks Water, is one of the best books I’ve read for teaching empathy and seeing the world through a another’s eyes. In the story, Jaci is forced to consider the world from the perspective of the Jaguar he’s ends up dining with. Unfortunately, there isn’t an English translation of it or any of her books that I can find but several of her adults works do have Spanish versions available on Amazon.

  • 20 Fabulous Picture Books with Diverse Female Protagonists

    20 Fabulous Picture Books with Diverse Female Protagonists

    To celebrate International Women’s Day this week, I watched a lot of videos with infuriating facts. As a writer, book lover, and mother of a daughter, this one caught my attention. It made me get up and go straight to my daughter’s bookshelves.

    One thing I can do right now to combat the publishing industry’s gender bias in kid’s lit is help spread the word about amazing picture books with female protagonists and encourage you to buy them. (Because sales matter!) And don’t buy them just for girls, please!

    It’s important to read books with female protagonists to boys because reading about people different from ourselves teaches empathy. Shannon Hale, prolific author in every age group (her Princess in Black books appear on my list) wrote an amazing post about the dangers of not giving books with female protagonists to boys. Reading diversely also develops a realistic idea about the world which is filled with different kinds of people. I didn’t think twice about reading Peter’s Snowy Day to my daughter, despite the fact she is not a boy, black, or ever going to see snow outside her door. It’s a delightful human story and that’s what matters.

    The books on my list are funny, exciting, and thought provoking stories that both girls and boys will enjoy. They’re set in countries all over the world and feature characters of different colors, languages, and cultures. The only commonality is that all the main characters are human female. (Sorry, Olivia. Female animal protagonists didn’t count for this list. You’re still totally awesome though!)

    20 Fabulous Picture Books with Diverse Female Protagonists (In no order other than how I came to them on my daughter’s shelf)

    Journey by Aaron Becker This stunning and wordless book, follows the adventure of a girl as she journeys to a fantastical land with the help of a magic crayon. There are enchanting forests, flying carpets, and bad guys on air ships!

     

     

     

    Normal Norman by Tara Lazar illustrated by Stephen Britton  This book is laugh out loud adorable as the narrator tries to define the word “normal” using a totally average orangutan. Things start to go wrong starting with Norman’s refusal to eat a banana and his preerence for pizza.

     

     

     

    If You Give a Pig a Pancake by Laura Numeroff illustrated by Felicia Bond  If you loved what happens when you give a mouse a cookie, check out what one little girl has to deal with when she caves to a pig’s demands.

     

     

     

     

    Viva Frida by Yuyi Morales  This is one of the most gorgeous books my daughter owns. The text (what very little there is) in both English and Spanish goes through the themes in Khalo’s work, such as live, imagine, create. The illustrations are bright and vibrant and straight out of a dream.

     

     

     

    Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch illustrated by Michael Martchenko  I’m not at all opposed to Princesses if they’re one among many different types of characters and take matters in their own hands like Princess Elizabeth. She has no intention of letting that dragon get away with burning down her castle and stealing her fiance.

     

     

     

    The Rough Face Girl by Rafe Martin illustrated by David Shannon  In addition to the beautiful illustrations, the heroine wins the day because of her character. She’s not pretty. She doesn’t have fancy clothes, but she sees the beauty and power in nature and understands what’s truly valuable. Yes, the book is about a young woman looking for a husband, but the message about character over appearance and clothes is an important one for all kids.

     

     

     

    My Two Grannies by Floella Benjamin illustrated by Margaret Chamberlain In addition to featuring females both young and old, black and white, the book also deal with two different cultures mixing! Multicultural, multiracial, and female protagonists! There is no reason not to have this book on your kid’s shelf.

     

     

     

     

    Pretty Salma by Niki Daly   A Little Red Riding Hood tale set in Ghana. What I love about this version is that Salma redeems herself after getting tricked by coming up with the idea for how to scare away Mr. Dog and save Granny.

     

     

     

    My Pet Dragon by Christoph Niemann  Lin has lost her pet dragon! She has to go on an adventure to find him and along the way the illustrator cleverly introduces some Chinese characters. Of your kid isn’t going to be fluent in Mandarin at the end, but thank to this book my daughter is ware that not all languages use an phonetic alphabet like English.

     

     

     

    Menina Bonita do Laço de Fita by Ana Maria Machado illustrated by Claudius  A Brazilian story about a beautiful little girl who so captivates a neighboring bunny that he wants desperately to become black like her. She gives him all sorts of funny tricks to turn black. None of them work. Don’t worry if you can’t read Portuguese. There’s an English version on Amazon.

     

     

     

    The Most Magnificent Thing by Ashley Spires illustrated by Mark Pett  Yes, this book is about a girl who loves to build things (awesome!), but that’s not the reason I bought it. My daughter gets frustrated easily and goes from fine to throwing things in a heartbeat. Just like the girl in the story. If you know a kid who has trouble coping with frustration when things don’t work exactly right, this book is a MUST read.

     

     

     

    The Girl Who Never Made Mistakes by Gary Rubenstein Similarly to The Most Magnificent Thing, this book is great for kids who stress about being perfectionists and have a hard time dealing when things don’t work exactly the way they wanted. Spolier alert: A mistake is eventually made and lessons are learned.

     

     

    As Mil e Umas Historias de Manuela by Marcelo Weberson illustrated by Maluf Santiago  Ok, I don’t think there’s an English version of this, but Portuguese and Spanish speakers (because really they’re almost the same language) will love this story of a girl who devours books. Literally. She consumes so many books, she literally becomes a book and the only cure is to write her own story using all the words she has inside of her.

     

     

     

    Wave by Suzy Lee  This is a gorgeous, wordless story about a curious girl, a sunny day, and a playful wave. Lee is a fantastic illustrator from South Korea and her primarily ink drawings are stunning. If your child loves the beach, she will adore this book.

     

     

    Biscuit series by Alyssa Capucilli illustrated by Pat Schories  This is a series of simple stories about a girl and her dog, Biscuit, because it’s not only boys who love their dogs. My daughter adores animals. We bought her first Biscuit story to go with a veterinarian costume. Now that she is starting to read, Biscuit books are great first readers.

     

     

     

    Rosie Revere Engineer & Ada Twist Scientist by Andrea Beaty illustrated by David Roberts  Diverse representation in children’s literature is so important and Beaty has written two amazing books that feature girls in STEM fields. They’re rhyming books and a joy to read aloud, and the illustrations are so much fun.

     

    I Am Jane Goodall by Brad Meltzer illustrated by Christopher Eliopoulos  At the end of the video above, the girls asks if the bookseller has any books about a girl going to Mars. Studies have shown that by 5 years old kids already think certain jobs are “for boys”. This book is part of the Ordinary People Change World series. It’s a delightful collection about real people from history in all different professions. Books feature Rosa Parks, Helen Keller, Amelia Earhart, Eleanor Roosevelt, Sacagawea and Lucille Ball for your budding activists, teachers, pilots, politicians, or comedians.

     

     

    Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughters by John Steptoe  I remember my teacher reading this book to my class in elementary school. It’s a Cinderella story but in this version both sisters are equally physically beautiful. It’s Nyasha’s generosity and respect for all creatures and nature that sets her apart from her selfish sister.

     

     

     

     

    I Wonder by Annaka Harris illustrated by John Rowe  I love this book about a mother and daughter on a walk wondering about…everything really. The book has a beautiful message. It’s ok to say, “I don’t know,” and the beauty of not knowing allows all to wonder about the mysteries of the universe.

     

     

     

    The Princess in Black by Shannon & Dean Hale illustrated by LeUyen Phan  This is an illustrated early chapter book and was one of the first chapter books my daughter stayed interested several nights in a row. I love Princess Magnolia, and I think her adventures fighting monsters would appeal to girls and boys. I love the message. You can enjoy a frilly dress at the tea party and also love wearing a mask and boots and fighting monsters. A kid doesn’t have to chose between sparkly tiaras and being a hero.

     

     

     

    So those are a few of my favorite pictures books with female protagonists. When you get into chapter books…wow! There’s Matilda, El Deafo, Little Women, Island of the Blue Dolphin, Anne of Green Gable, Smile, and anything by Judy Blume. But that’s another list for another post.

    Obviously there are so many more great picture books not on the list. If I’ve left off one of your favorites, please add it in the comments!! I’m always on the lookout for new additions to our library! Our copy of Goodnight Stories for Rebel Girls is on the way!

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  • Our Walk to School

    Our Walk to School

    IMG_1405Our Walk to School   A one act play inspired by true events with a 5-year-old.

    Mom: (Shouted from front door) Ok, time to go. Do you have your shoes on, yet?

    Kiddo: (Shouted from bedroom) Not yet. I need to finish something.

    Mom: (Shouted as pleasantly as possible to avoid a last minute fight but forceful enough to convey annoyance at shoes still being on.) No, you don’t. I’ve already asked you several times to put your shoes on. Now, it’s time to go. We’re going to be late for swim class.

    Kiddo: (Shouted in complete indifference) I’m almost finished.

    Mom: (Marches into child’s bedroom.) What are you doing? Why are your shorts and undies around your ankles?

    Kiddo: I had to go pee pee.

    Mom: But why are your shorts still around your ankles?

    Kiddo: I’m trying to make the top spin.

    Mom: Why wouldn’t you pull up your pants first? And why are you playing with a top? Ok, stop. We need to go. Where are your shoes?

    Kiddo: (Leaving the top aside and picking up a book off the floor while still half naked.) I don’t know. Mommy, can we read The Book with No Pictures?

    Mom: No, not right now. We’re going to be late for swim class if we don’t leave right now! Please, pull your shorts up while I find your shoes.

    Mom leaves to find the shoes, one under the couch and one under the desk in the office. She returns to child’s room where Kiddo is now fully clothed but minus socks and looking at her calendar.

    Mom: What happened to your socks!

    Kiddo: I don’t like that pair. I want to wear my spider socks. Mommy, what day is Christmas?

    Mom: (Through gritted teeth.) A long time away but it won’t matter because if you’re late to swim class Santa won’t come. (Kiddo drops to floor and starts trying to put shoes on. Mom picks up and puts away unsatisfactory first pair of socks.)

    Kiddo: (Teary eyed and whimpering) It’s too tight! (Slams be-shoed foot on ground repeatedly.) Mommy, it’s too tight.

    Mom: (Exhales slowly) Because it’s on the wrong foot.

    Kiddo: Oh! (Giggles)

    Mom: Why are you only using one hand? You can’t put tennis shoes on with only one hand. We need to leave now!

    Kiddo: I pinched my finger in the drawer getting my spider socks and now it hurts. I can’t use it.

    Mom: (Muttering) For the love of… (Squats and puts child’s shoes on totally over trying to foster independence this morning) Ok, we’re ready! Yay! Let’s go. (Mom grabs school bag and purse and runs to door.)

    Kiddo: (Pulling on Mom’s shirt while she locks door)  Tell a story! Tell a story!

    Mom: I will when we get to the sidewalk, ok? Let’s start walking first.

    Kiddo: (Foot touches the sidewalk. Tugs Mom’s hand.) Ok, tell the story! Tell the story!

    Mom: (As they walk to school) Ok, where were we? So the Bowser kids decided they were going to play a trick on their Dad…

    Kiddo: Noooo. Not a Bowser kid story. I want a Mario story.

    P1000912Mom: Oh, ok. One day Mario was walking through the forest on his way to Princess Peach’s castle for tea when he heard a noise and Yoshi appeared.

    Kiddo: No, not Yoshi! It was a little Eevee. It was going “Eevee! Eevee!” (Jumps up and down and flails arms) Because it lost its family.

    Mom: So Mario heard a noise and saw a very strange creature by the river. Mario thought it looked like a Pokemon so he called his good friend Ash and asked “Do you know want this is?” Mario held up his phone so Ash could see Eevee and Ash said…

    Kiddo: (Yanking on Mom’s hand) That’s when Mario sees another Pokemon! A Squirtle!  It said “Squirtle! Squirtle!” and it was soooo adorable! And Mario took it to Princess Peach’s castle. And she thought it was so adorable. (Pause) C’mon Mommy! Tell the story! (Pulls on Mom’s arm)

    Mom: Mario thought Princess Peach could help the lost Pokemon get back to their world so he took them to Peach’s castle and…

    Kiddo: Then all the Pokemon appeared!!! There was a Charmeleon and a Bulbasaur and an Amaura, a Rhyhorn, a Leafeon! All the Pokemon!

    Mom: So when Mario got to Peach’s castle he was shocked to find it filled with Pokemon! There was a Lapras swimming in the fountain and Ponyta eating the roses in the garden. Inside the castle, there were Zubats and Pidgies and Fledglings flying around and pooping on everything!

    Kiddo: (Shrieks with laughter) They were pooping on the table, on the floor, on Luigi’s head.

    Mom: Oh, Luigi’s there?

    Kiddo: Yes, a Pidgey pooped right on his head!

    Mom: Luigi walked into the castle and felt a splat on top of his head. Fortunately, he was wearing a hat.

    Kiddo: But then he took it off and a Zubat pooped on his hair! (Hops up and down laughing and clapping her hands)

    Mom: Well, Princess Peach was very upset all these Pokemon were destroying her castle…

    Kiddo: So she called the Ghostbusters!

    Mom: The Ghostbusters? Why would she call the Ghostbusters?

    Kiddo: Because they catch Pokemon and ghosts.

    Mom: Ok…so Princess Peach calls the Ghostbusters. They bring their special…

    Kiddo: (Yanking on Mom’s hand) You have to sing the song!

    Mom: (Glances around to see how many people will get to enjoy this) Na,na,na,na,na,na. Na,na,na,na,na,na. There’s something strange in your neighborhood. Who ya gonna call?

    Mom & Kiddo: Ghostbusters!

    Mom: So the Ghostbusters show up at Peach’s castle and begin catching all the Pokemon. They had some trouble with Charizard though. It was perched on top of the tallest tower and refused to come down. Peach was very upset because it was going to be a major pain to replace the roof tiles on the highest tower. She asked the Ghostbusters…

    Kiddo: Then the little Eevee appeared and snuggled up to Princess Peach. And Princess Peach thought it was so adorable, she wanted to keep it forever. But the Eevee missed its family. So Peach decided to keep all the Eevees and Vaporeons and Leafeons and Sylveons. And then a cute, little Amaura appeared and licked Peach’s face and it was so cute. Peach decided to keep it and used her Harry Potter magic wand to create an ice cave in the yard for the Amaura to live in because it was too hot outside. Then Peach heard the Eevee crying “Eevee! Eevee!” because Team Rocket was trying to catch it!

    Long Pause. Kiddo looks up at Mom.

    Kiddo: C’mon Mommy! (Shakes Mom’s arm.) Tell the story!

    Mom: Why don’t you tell the story?

    Kiddo: Because I don’t know the story!

    Mom: But you do! You’ve been the one telling it for the last block and…

    Kiddo: I don’t KNOW the story! You have to tell it!

    Mom: (sighs) So Team Rocket captured Eevee in a net and was pulling it up to their hot air balloon.

    Kiddo: No, they were in a giant Meowth robot! That was electric proof so Pikachu couldn’t help Eevee escape.

    Mom: What Pikachu?

    Kiddo: Ash’s Pikachu.

    Mom: When did Ash and Pikachu show up?

    Kiddo: They came with the Ghostbusters.

    Mom: Oh, look! Here we are! And there’s your class headed to pool. Better hurry. Bye, love you! (Mom and Kiddo hug and kiss) Have a great day at school!

    Kiddo: And you can finish the story when we walk home! (Skips off, waving)

    Mom: (Sinks down onto a bench) Sure. Can’t wait.

    Lights fade to black.

    This play is based on every walk to school we’ve taken this past year. It is not an exaggeration. It is truth. And it is every single day.

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  • MKB Read Around the World Series: Menina Bonita do Laço de Fita

    MKB Read Around the World Series: Menina Bonita do Laço de Fita

    I’m proud to be a part of the Multicultural Kid Blogs community! It’s an amazing resource for parents and educators with multicultural kids or wanting to raise globally minded citizens. Every (northern hemisphere) summer, MKB hosts the Read Around the World Series to promote diverse books for kids. Bloggers around the world recommend books for all age ranges, picture book to young adult, and all regions of the world.

    Today I’m up, and I’m excited to recommend a modern classic of Brazilian children’s literature!

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  • NYC in a Preschooler’s Posse

    NYC in a Preschooler’s Posse

    IMG_2399We just got home after a week-long family vacation in New York City! I’ve been to New York City three times before, but this was my first visit as part of a preschooler’s posse. Our little Diva, with all of her four and a half years, was the central figure around which all activities were planned. If she wouldn’t like it or eat it or wait for it, then we didn’t do it. By we I mean, Mommy, Daddy, Gramma, and Grandpa aka The Posse.

    My husband and I have declared New York our most successful vacation since Diva came home from the hospital.

    I understand there are some people who might balk at spending a week in New York in the service of an illiterate, cookie-craving overload, but the fact we were willing to put the Diva’s needs first and foremost is why our trip was a resounding success for everyone involved.

    You have to understand I’m not calling my child Diva for lack of a more creative nickname. If we define diva behavior as being irrationally demanding and prone to outbursts over minor inconveniences while assuming she is the center of everyone’s universe, then most preschoolers are divas. In addition, my daughter has some residual effects from an extended stay in the NICU which has left her “fight or flight response” on a very light trigger. Not her fault but still, her easy trigger leaves everyone in her posse scrambling to avoid both the fit and blunt objects likely to be thrown when an unexpected change in plans occurs. So the title Diva fits. And nobody wants a diva to start throwing or smearing snot on things in an art museum.

    Our first consideration for the Diva was housing. To accommodate our Diva’s need for a quiet, calm retreat after a super stimulating day, we got out of Manhattan and rented a house in Queens. Corona is a delightful neighborhood bustling with families and charming restaurants filled with locals who seem to burst into song on a fairly regular basis. Between the Italian serenade we got over breakfast one morning and the Latin dance music pouring out from the restaurant across the street, Corona felt like living in a musical.

    IMG_2322The hour subway ride into Manhattan or the car service were a small price to pay for the luxury of having a house with a den and backyard patio. The Diva is highly prone to outbursts when tired, so we wrapped up our sightseeing around 5pm everyday and spent the nights hanging out at the house. It was a stress-free way to end each day and allowed us to assume the role of local New Yorker for the week.

    What did my Diva want out of a week in the Greatest City in the World? Playgrounds.

    IMG_2177Our week in New York was a tour of playgrounds and any museums that happened to be close by, starting with the Science Playground at the New York Hall of Science. This hands-on museum geared toward young kids was just down the street from our house in Queens. Even many of the indoor exhibits were basically highly educational playgrounds, particularly the exhibit on physics in sports. My daughter particularly loved the rope jungle gym and giant see-saw bridge.

    Our second day was all about the dinosaurs at the Museum of Natural History but before we got into the museum, a detour through Central Park led the Diva to Diana Ross Playground. I swear she has sonar for playgrounds. We did manage to get inside the museum with the promise of dinosaurs and the special exhibit “Dinosaurs Among Us” was a highlight of the trip. The exhibit wants people to understand that dinosaurs are actually still around. We just call them birds today.

    Turns out dinosaurs were basically demon chickens.
    Turns out dinosaurs were basically demon chickens.

    The Diva enjoyed literally yanking her posse from one amazing feather-covered dinosaur recreation to the next. It wasn’t until we hit the gift shop that the first meltdown occurred. There was no stuffed velociraptor.

    The near hour of tears shed over the unattainable stuffed velociraptor is a good example of how I know without doubt the Diva’s meltdown’s are not an attempt at manipulation or the result of being overindulged. Because she could have gotten any toy in shop. After thirty minutes of sobbing in the most profound disappointment, the Diva had four posse members ready to drop all their disposable income. But she didn’t want anything the store had to offer. She was fixated on a stuffed velociraptor and couldn’t let it go. The best her posse could do was offer a relatively quiet spot near the triceratops skeleton and some chocolate chip cookies. Eventually, she accepted some small dinosaur figurines and a blue whale viewing.

    IMG_2267Day three’s plan to see the knights’ armor at the Metropolitan Museum of Art was immediately abandoned upon sight of the Ancient Playground next door to the museum. The playground’s stonework gave it a castle feel and the Diva unsurprisingly played for over two hours. What did surprise everyone was her question while heading back to the subway late afternoon “When are we going to see the knights in their armor?” When a four-year old expresses interest in an art exhibit, you go before she can change her mind or fall asleep in someone’s lap. The coolest part was the horses’ armor.

    IMG_2315We took one day off from playgrounds to see Aladdin at the New Amsterdam Theater which is right at the Times Square metro station. While Aladdin was beautiful and fun and the Diva is still talking about the flying carpet, the chaos of Times Square was not fun or beautiful. A prematurely pitched lollipop, which she hadn’t liked in the first place, caused the second major meltdown of the trip.

    The sidewalks of Times Square are really not conducive to calming and soothing, so phones were whipped out and frantic searches for nearby cafes, preferably with chocolate-chip cookies, were conducted. An early retreat back to Queens resulted in take out of some of the most amazing Mexican I’ve had in my life from the local joint across the street. (Seriously, I’m on the Queens’ bandwagon primarily for the food.)

    IMG_2328After Times Square the posse had learned our lesson. Playgrounds and parks are enjoyable. Crowds and a sea of fifty foot iPads are not. This lesson led us to Brooklyn Bridge Park and the Main Street Playground near Manhattan Bridge. The Diva loved the nautical themed playground, and the posse loved the views. We rode Jane’s Carousel and had lunch at a little bistro just off the park. The breathtaking views are a great antidote to the effects of paying $4 for a single glass of coke that’s fifty percent ice.

    IMG_2432To complete our admittedly small sampling of New York City playgrounds, we went to Billy Johnson Playground in Central Park just north of the zoo. This comparatively humble playground features a 45 foot granite slide that the Diva went down at least twenty times. It was a gorgeous day and Central Park was lush and green. When we stumbled upon the Central Park Zoo after leaving the playground, there was no debate. The Diva bonded with a spirited puffin and enjoyed a hyper-active sea lion.

    We ended our week in a New York with a trip to the Rose Center for Earth and Space and a show in the Hayden Planetarium. While the Diva was awed by the concept of a movie on the ceiling, the New York Hall of Science is infinitely more accessible to the preschool aged public. Although, her posse thought the planetarium was awesome.

    IMG_2416I hope I haven’t given the impression that being in the posse of a small diva is only stressful. It does require planning and a willingness to abandon those plans, but the plus side of a diva is that they are energetic, passionate, and expressive people who draw you into their world. My Diva manifested such joy after seeing her first dog walker, I thought we’d have to follow him around the city.

    It’s also because of my Diva, that my husband and I have completely reimagined what living in NYC must be like. We spent a week in the “concrete jungle” running and climbing around parks. The local government has done an amazing job of providing outdoor resources for children and family throughout the city. I’ve spent my entire adult life living in apartments in cities, Washington D.C., Rio, and now Vitoria, and none of those cities have provided the public playgrounds and green spaces like New York. (Rio and Vitoria’s governments do not get credit for simply building their cities on beaches. In fact, negative points to you Rio and Vitoria for letting your outdoor spaces get septic.)

    Now if only it didn’t cost a fortune to buy a home in New York. And the winter. If the government could do something about winter, then I could definitely see the Diva and her posse living there.

  • My Bilingual Kid Doesn’t Want Your Attention

    My Bilingual Kid Doesn’t Want Your Attention

    Having spent the majority of my adult life outside of the United States (mostly in small, homogeneous cities), I’ve gotten used to being the subject of conversation at the next table over. It happens pretty frequently in Vitoria. My husband and I speak in English so people assume I don’t understand their Portuguese freeing them to openly discuss me from two feet away. It happens most frequently with kids and teens, but a surprising number of adults don’t seem to realize that a person could understand both English and Portuguese. In Vitoria, we expats are like endangered wildlife. People know we’re around, but when actually spotted, locals take note.

    I don’t mind. Until visitors arrive from another planet, one from another continent is about as alien as it gets for most people in Vitoria. I signed up for the attention when I decided to become an expat.

    But my daughter didn’t.

    A series of encounters at the park Sunday has, for the first time, made me consider my daughter’s multiculturalism a challenge, a thing she’ll have to learn to deal with.

    It also has me weighing the importance of three influences on my daughter’s behavior: my parenting instincts v. my daughter’s personality v. the culture she is growing up in. I’m now asking which of these should win out in the event they’re incompatible.

    Here’s what happened.

    We arrived at the park just as a craft was beginning and hurried to the classroom. As materials were being handed out, one of the helpers overheard me speaking English and asked where we’re from. I answered, heard about how he’s going to Disney World soon, and then got the VIP crafting upgrade, as he hovered over my shoulder for the duration of the activity asking repeatedly (in English) if my daughter needed help. He was pleasant and wanted to practice his English. No problem.

    Then we moved to the playground and while my daughter, the baby dragon, sought refuge in a playhouse from me, the evil sorceress, a girl and boy asked what language we were speaking. I answered, their eyes widened, and they ran off. A few minutes later they were back with more friends who all crowded into the playhouse to stare at my four-year-old, English speaker. My daughter tried to play with them in Portuguese, but the older girl turned to her friends and asked, “Who wants to learn English?” My daughter was not interested in playing teacher when there was sorceress to escape from, so she turned her back on them. They were kids and curious. Ok.

    The most bizarre exchange happened as my daughter and I were waiting for my husband to bring the car. We were sword fighting with sticks, so I have no idea what these people heard exactly. “Argh!” “Ah, my leg! I’m bleeding!” But whatever they heard prompted the man to turn to his friend and say “Uma italiana!” I know I opened the door to this exchange by correcting him, but I can’t live in a world where people hear an English speaking American and think Italian.

    I smiled and told him “Sou americana.” Their minds were blown. The woman nearly doubled-over laughing and the man’s eyes bugged out as if this was the first time either of them had considered the possibility of a person speaking more than one language. If I had turned invisible, I think they would have been less surprised. The woman sat down on the bench next to my daughter, and the two of them began peppering us with questions, the most notable one being “So you speak Portuguese & French?” They quickly zeroed in on my daughter and began directing their questions to her, clearly not believing she speaks Portuguese and is, in fact, Brazilian. When they asked her for her name, I stiffened. When they asked her for her daddy’s name, I cut them off, said “ciao” and in their wake, made it explicitly clear she was never to give her name or mommy’s or daddy’s name to anyone other than a police officer. The couple hadn’t meant but did cross a line when they asked for personal information from my kid.

    My daughter’s final audience of the day came at the end of lunch. She and I were walking back to our table with a much-anticipated chocolate popsicle, and the table next to us began exclaiming to my husband. “Nossa que olhos lindas! Uma loirinha linda!” My daughter has blond hair and blue eyes, the genetic jackpot in Brazil. The entire family at the next table gushed compliments, while my husband played along and joked it was a good thing she took after her mom.

    This all happened within two hours. Nothing was said or done out of malice. The people’s motivation ranged from innocent curiosity to sincere appreciation with a heavy dash of racism. Everything interaction was typical. Brazilian culture is open and friendly and community oriented. Strangers talk to each other here. It’s like being in South Georgia without the gnats and shotguns.

    But my daughter doesn’t want an audience. My husband and have noticed it. Her teachers noted it in her school report. When the group of kids crowded around my daughter asking her to speak in English, she went silent. When the geographically challenged couple asked for her name, she clutched my arm and hid her face. My daughter doesn’t like being put on the spot. And that is exactly what every stranger who asks her to demonstrate her Portuguese or English is doing. When strangers stare at my daughter, they turn her into a spectacle no matter their intentions.

    So what to do about it?

    My husband immediately suggested we stop speaking English outside of the apartment. This would eliminate having to always explain that my kid is Brazilian and hearing about people’s Disney vacations, but I’m against it. My daughter is immersed in Portuguese Monday through Friday all day long at school. She needs as much English as possible on the weekend. We’d also limit her English vocabulary to the world of our apartment.

    My gut reaction is to tell the spectators, politely but firmly, to go away. I’ll explain that my daughter is shy and since she is Brazilian, we don’t want her to feel singled out in her home. Please, save your questions for another bilingual who’s more comfortable in the spotlight.

    The problem with this solution is that it’s extremely American. Like off the charts individualistic. Walls up. Family in. Strangers out. It’s honest. It’s blunt. It’s clear. It’s rude as hell. It’s all of those things. Just depends on your cultural reference. I recently saw an article titled “I Don’t Make My Kid Share” and thought that would never fly in Brazil. Valuing individual property rights over communal harmony would brand you and your kid the biggest jerks on the playground. Not all parenting strategies work equally well in all cultures.

    She is Brazilian, living in Brazil, dealing with Brazilians. Shouldn’t I do my best to teach her to understand and navigate her own culture? Is it right to protect her feelings by shutting down people in a culture where small talk is viewed as courteous? Doesn’t she need to be able to cope with the extra attention if it’s going to be part of her reality?

    I want to help my daughter balance culture and her personality, and I’m not sure what to say to prepare her for the inevitable questions that come when you are the only one. I grew up a solid member of the majority in everyway possible, but she is often usually the only bilingual, the only American. A little, blue-eyed, Brazilian girl speaking English here in Vitoria is going to make people stop in their tracks and comment.

    My plan so far is to tell her she should never talk to strangers without mommy and daddy around. (Safety first.) When we are around, she has an absolute right to remain silent. She doesn’t have to play with or talk to anyone she doesn’t want to. However, I’ll explain people aren’t trying to be mean. They want to learn, and she has the power to teach them. People are curious about her languages and cultures, so when she’s ready, people will be very interested in what she has to say.

    And that’s the best idea I’ve got for now.

  • 5 Things That Can Ruin a Kid’s Day (& the Parent’s as Well)

    5 Things That Can Ruin a Kid’s Day (& the Parent’s as Well)

    frustrated-758722_1280Saturday morning my kid woke up asking for sausage. She’s Brazilian, so it’s a pretty common request. She’s a very picky eater, so if she demonstrates enthusiasm for any food that isn’t made by Hershey, we try to accommodate her request. That’s how we ended up at a packed churrasco (a restaurant serving heart-stopping quantities of grilled meat) swarming with sweaty, screaming families and their kids. In other words, hell. The kids all seemed to love it.

    Why wouldn’t they? This place was family-friendly in a very Brazilian way with a multi-level playground, 2 trampolines, five TVs with Playstations, and a small amusement park ride. Any American actuary would stroke out upon entering this restaurant.

    The kids were dying of happiness.

    All except my kid.

    We got there early enough to grab a coveted table in front of the entrance to the play area. It was the most chaotic spot in the place, but we’d be able to see my daughter from our table. We ordered her sausage and beef and french fries. My husband the vegetarian contented himself with rice and beans. She thanked us by whining, complaining, and pouting the entire time.

    There was a Claw-crane arcade game right in front of our table, and up against the glass was a stuffed cheetah. Game over. My daughter was obsessed. Nothing we said could convince her to let it go. The playground, the video games, the carousel of airplanes, the sausage, they were insignificant next to this stuffed cheetah. She left the restaurant crying. I left with a burning desire for a sledge hammer. We were all pissed off for the rest of the afternoon.

    My daughter’s day was ruined by a cruelly placed Claw-game. And so was mine. If you don’t have kids, you might not realize how heavily a parent’s mood at the end of the day relies on their child’s emotions. And a kid can be plunged into emotional turmoil over a sock. Yes, I’ve had mornings or entire days that were corrupted by a sock.

    The Claw is just another in a long stream of innocuous things which have completely ruined my day. Here are five more items and tasks I now face with trepidation.

    1. Basic Personal Hygiene  Specifically, the maintenance of it. Five years ago, brushing teeth or hair didn’t consume a lot of mental energy. A bath was welcome especially in the scorching summers of Rio. Now, I mentally steel myself using techniques I learned from Navy Seals before approaching my child with either soap or a toothbrush. Many a morning or evening has been ruined by screaming refusals to use either.
    2. A Pair of Wonder Woman Undies A very special pair that is never, never clean when requested.
    3. Chocolate Ice-cream Normally a curative for emotional collapse. Unless it doesn’t have the option of M&M toppings. We don’t go to that ice-cream store anymore.
    4. An Inflatable Pterodactyl One that was made so cheaply and with such indifference nobody noticed one of the wings was glued on backwards. It came in a package of six and was never played with after being opened. The toy had no impact on our lives whatsoever, until it was given away then demanded inexplicably a few months later. Now, it will never be forgotten.
    5. A Slice of Carrot Vegetables in general, but carrots have the greatest potential for being nibbled so this is the one that usually brings everyone to arms. There was a memorable night out when my daughter sat on the floor under the table screaming with snot running down her face because I demanded she have one bite of carrot. Wait…no. It wasn’t carrot. It was a bite of macaroni and cheese. Which I’m now willing to consider a vegetable. One that she won’t eat. That’s where we are on the vegetable front.

    It will be a very long time before my husband and I are willing to go back to that restaurant. Which is unfortunate because the number of places we now feel that way about includes pretty much everywhere with the exception of the ice cream store with M&Ms for toppings. I’m actually fine with that.

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  • Throwing a Brazilian Halloween Party: An Odyssey of Prep

    Throwing a Brazilian Halloween Party: An Odyssey of Prep

    P1010501I threw a Halloween party for fifteen preschoolers last Saturday. It was a huge success, but I feel I owe my guests an apology.

    Multiple parents came up to me and said I was “muito animada”,  a very fun-loving, party-throwing person. I realized that by throwing a fun children’s party, I had completely misrepresented myself to them. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie. The fact is I’m not a creative, crafty mom who saves egg cartons to make earthworm condos for the compost pile. My perfect Sunday afternoon is sitting quietly with a good a book and cup of coffee. Ideally on the beach and without people unable to wipe their own bottoms.

    So why did I throw a class Halloween party?

    Because they don’t traditionally celebrate Halloween in Brazil. I loved Halloween as a kid, and if I don’t throw the party, my Brazilian daughter won’t know one of my favorite childhood traditions.

    Why did I make such an effort on the crafts and decorations?

    Because the day after I announced my intention to have a party, one of the moms came up to me at school and told me she’d always dreamed of going to a real Halloween party.  To which I thought “Oh crap! I’m fulfilling someone’s dream of Halloween? I don’t want that kind of responsibility!” But I accepted it. And that brings us to the last and really most revealing question.P1010469

    How was I able to come up with such creative and age-appropriate themed snacks and crafts if I’m not a creative crafty mommy?

    I’m an intelligent and highly-organized, type-A personality with access to the Internet and a working knowledge of Pinterest. That’s it. That’s the real me. If I take on the responsibility of a project, it will be done well. Even if it’s something I usually avoid.

    Like baking.

    Let me tell you about the cookie baking.

    P1010462While in Atlanta in August, I found Halloween themed cookie cutters and decorating supplies. Bat, ghost, and pumpkin cutters. Black, orange, and green slime icing. The kids could decorate cookies! It would be awesome.

    I knew I was going to have to make the dough from scratch. Shortly after arriving in Brazil, I tried to bake a pecan pie for reasons again related to culture sharing. I asked my husband where I could buy the crust. He stared at me brow furrowed. “Buy the crust? You mean the ingredients?” I laughed. Ha. Ha. Good joke. I’m not making my crust from scratch. Not even my South-Georgia raised, preserve-making grandmother makes her own crust anymore. Nobody does. “Uh, they do in Brazil.” Oh.

    So I knew I was going to have to make sugar cookie dough from scratch and having baked maybe four times in my life, I knew I’d need a practice run. I planned out every day of the week leading up to the party. Saturday I went online and found a simple and well-rated sugar cookie recipe. Sunday I bought the ingredients. Tuesday was the baking run-through.

    After my experience with the pie crust, I brought measuring cups back from the US because I’d learned I’m a victim of the US education system and can’t think in metric. Also, the Brazilian versions of recipes often call for “tea cups” which is not a standardized form of measurement! I find baking stressful enough without vague instructions, so American measurements and tools it is.

    Recipe. Ingredients. Measuring cups and spoons. I thought I was prepared.

    Preheat the oven to 350 F. My oven only has a line decreasing in thickness and the numbers 1 through 5, but my plan was to pick a number and once the first batch was in check them every minute and figure out the right amount of time at that setting. First problem solved.

    Mix dry ingredients. Easy.

    P1010507Cream butter and sugar. That’s when I realized I had a handheld beater with no beaters. They had been lost somewhere between a school project and kitchen renovation. Ok. People were obviously baking before electricity, so I decided to mix by hand. If I had known I would be creaming butter three times in a week, I would have gone out and bought a damn beater right then. But I didn’t.

    Fifteen minutes and two sore arms later…mix in dry ingredients.

    Two quivering arms and one sore back later…put dough on cookie sheet. Looking at the dough, I could tell using the cutters was out the question. The dough stuck to everything. I could have wallpapered with it. I went ahead and baked globs of it to test the flavor but knew I was going to have to address the stickiness.

    One minute of internet research later, I’d learned the dough must be refrigerated for at least an hour before attempting to cut out cookies. Great! I had learned a valuable lesson. This is why test runs are important.

    Friday morning I made the dough for a second time, breaking a sweat mixing by hand. I left it in the fridge all afternoon. I was going to bake the cookies after my daughter was asleep, but on a whim I decided to do one batch before I picked her up from school.

    Within minutes I learned that firm dough doesn’t stay that way for long in an 85 degree kitchen. Central air conditioning in the kitchen would have been a big help, but I shrugged it off. People baked without air conditioning for most of human history. No big deal. I simply raced, hunched over my kitchen table, to roll out, cut, and dump cookies onto to the baking tray before the dough softened into a gooey mess.P1010493

    I put cats, bats, and witches’ hats into oven and pulled out 8 amoebas. Son of a bitch.

    I collapsed in a chair. Beads of sweat dripped down my back and forehead. My shoulders ached. And the prospect of mixing another batch of dough by hand loomed before me and crushed my soul.

    I hate cooking. No matter how much I research and prepare, I feel I always, always, end up facing a dozen unexpected challenges that keep the results from being perfect. And perfect is the end goal, people. And it should be achievable with good planning and organization. That doesn’t seems to be the case with cooking, which is why I hate it.

    The silver lining is that by making that test batch before I picked up my daughter, I was able to swing by the store and get more flour and butter for a third batch. Because I was making the cookies. My daughter had already found the cookie cutters and asked for a cat to decorate. I had brought the icing and spider sprinkles from the United States. I was making those damn cookies.

    P1010513And by 1:12 a.m I had forty cookies in recognizable shapes.

    At the party the next afternoon, a mom asked my husband where I bought the cookies. He told her I had baked them. She exclaimed “Really? Oh, those creative moms.”

    That’s why I want to apologize to her and the other moms because I’m not the person the cookies make me out to be. I don’t get a thrill from making my daughter’s birthday cupcakes. I get stress knots above my shoulder blades. I don’t jump at every chance to throw a party. I cringe remembering the mess after the last one. I wish my Portuguese was better, then maybe I could translate my sarcasm when I talk about the joys of crafting.

    I may have given my daughter wonderful Halloween memories and successfully represented a piece of my culture abroad, but I misrepresented myself in the process.

    Which could be true for a lot party hosts. Maybe behind every Pinterest image, there’s a sweaty person popping painkillers and muttering obscenities at a tray of cookies.

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  • A Parent’s Weekly Writing Routine

    A Parent’s Weekly Writing Routine

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    MONDAY

    Morning:

    School Holiday so entertain and feed kid

    Afternoon:

    Entertain and feed kid

    Evening:

    Entertain, feed kid, and persuade her to take a bath

    Night:

    Fight with kid over everything because you’re both exhausted, Fight about getting out of the bath, brushing teeth, number of bedtime stories, going to sleep 

    9:30pm Open computer and stare listlessly at manuscript, pour wine, search new releases on Netflix

    TUESDAY

    Morning:

    8 am  Wake up & work on social media – Wake up late because child had a nightmare about Mommy getting her head bitten off by a monster and we were up for an hour in the middle of the night, race to get to swim class on time

    9:59am  Arrive at school on time

    10:00am  Watch kid’s swim class

    10:40am  Gym – Because yesterday was a school holiday – Think about dialogue for a tricky scene while on treadmill – Stand in front of gym for five minutes trying to remember what it was I needed to get at the drugstore…Bug Repellant!! I noticed my daughter’s almost out when packing her backpack.

    Afternoon:

    12:30pm  Lunch w/ husband

    1:30pm  Write – Computer reminds me of family member’s birthday, quickly search internet for present 

    3pm Get back to Writing – Make mistake of checking phone and finding 41 messages from parents in kid’s class on the firing of a favorite teaching assistant in addition to a few suggestions for weekend playdates

    4:15pm  Get back to Writing – Suddenly remember a package for my daughter waiting to be picked up, race to post office, Dammit! race back home to get wallet, race to post office, realize there’s not enough time to get back home before school pick-up, go to bakery and get dinner

    5:45om  Pick up child

    Evening:

    6-6:30pm  Dinner – eaten while child is having her snack

    6:30-7:30pm  Family Playtime

    7:30  Begin persuading child to take a bath

    7:50  Get child in bath

    8:15  Finally persuade child to leave bath

    Night:

    8:30  Argue about teeth brushing

    9pm  Read bedtime stories

    9:30  Write for two hours

    WEDNESDAY

    Morning:

    8am  Wake up & work on social media – Wake up to wet sheets and crying child because she peed in her bed. My fault. I gave her the whole bottle of coconut water after dinner. Can’t give her coconut water after dinner. Gotta remember that.

    9:30am  Take child to school

    10:15am  Gym, Revise previous night’s writing while on treadmill

    11:30am  Stop by toy store to pick up birthday present for kid’s classmate

    11:50am  Make appointment for kid’s haircut on way home

    Afternoon:

    12:30pm  Lunch with Husband

    1:15pm Write – Get call from school saying child is fine but has fallen and hit her head on the corner of a concrete pillar and now has a giant knot on her forehead, decide to pick her up from school early because I can watch her more closely than the school and it’s better to be safe than sorry

    Evening:

    6pm  Dinner

    6:30-7:30pm  Family Playtime

    7:30  Begin persuading child to take a bath

    7:50  Get child in bath

    8:15  Finally persuade child to leave bath

    Night:

    8:30  Argue about teeth brushing

    9pm  Read bedtime stories

    9:30  Write for two hours

    THURSDAY

    Morning:

    8am  Yes. Finally. I am waking up to work… –Another school holiday?! Are you kidding me? Schools are closed and teachers don’t work on Teacher Appreciation Day?! What sort of socialist hellscape am I living in?

    Afternoon:

    Entertain and feed kid

    Evening:

    Entertain, feed kid, and persuade her to take a bath

    Night:

    Fight with kid over everything because you’re both exhausted, Fight about getting out of the bath, brushing teeth, number of bedtime stories, going to sleep

    9:30pm  Open computer and stare listlessly at manuscript, pour wine, search new releases on Netflix

    FRIDAY

    Morning:

    8am  Wake up & work on social media

    9:30am  Take kid to school

    10am  Gym, Tweak scene that has been complete in my head for a week while on the treadmill

    11:30am  Write – in total amazement that I’m looking at manuscript before lunch

    Afternoon:

    12:30pm  Lunch with Husband

    1:15pm  Write – get call from school that daughter is complaining of a headache, she doesn’t have a fever, tell school she’s just trying to come home early and that I’ll pick up right after dinner

    2:30pm  Get back to Writing – get call from school saying that child has just thrown-up, race to pick her up driven by crushing guilt because she was not in fact lying about feeling bad

    Evening:

    Hover over sick child with bucket

    Night:

    Hover over sick child, Give her a bath, Get her to sleep in my bed, Read in bed to keep an eye on her

    SATURDAY

    No working. Family day.

    SUNDAY

    No working. Family day.

     

    I imagine books entitled Write a Novel in 30 have a special chapter for parents that starts “First, find a place to send your children for the month.” If I get 2,000 words down, it was an awesome writing day and I don’t even have to do the daily household chores. We have a housekeeper! It’s one of the perks of living in a country that values human labor less than tomatoes. Imagine throwing in cooking, cleaning, ironing, grocery shopping, and basic home maintenance to that schedule. Imagine more than one kid! That’s the life of a parent trying to write.

    A writer and mom I follow on Twitter recently wrote about finishing the 6th draft of a manuscript she’s been working on for 3 years. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s been able to get through so many drafts in that amount of time.

    I raise a fist in salute to my fellow writers and parents. I bow in deep admiration to those…oh crap, I forgot to get the cotton balls for the ghost craft happening at the Halloween party I’m throwing on Saturday. Better go now. Gotta pick up the kid in an hour.

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