Presenting . . . Tallulah by Tori Spelling

I had no idea how many celebrity moms had written children’s books until I started to do a little research. From Tori Spelling to Madonna, from Maria Shriver to Geri Halliwell (Ginger Spice) these moms have lent their famous names and creativity to create fun books for kids. Take a peek and see if your favorite celebrity mom is an author too.

Susan has found a a great book for all of the kids out there ready for a little time traveling. Here is her latest book review:

A Street Through Time: A 12,000-Year Walk Through History, written by Dr. Anne Millard, illustrated by Steve Noon.

One of the toughest things to teach kids is the concept of time. I’m not talking about the desperate “five minutes, one minute, now, now, I really mean it, NOW!” to get your offspring out the door for school. I mean giving your children a sense of the past, the ability to understand that an awful lot happened in the world before they were born.

Just telling kids that a building is “even older than Granddad!” gets tired quickly, especially for Granddad. So it might be time to reach for A Street Through Time: A 12,000-Year Walk Through History.

Each page of the book shows the same “street” during a different era, from a small, stone-age farming settlement in 10,000 B.C. to a modern city. The colorful illustrations stretch across both oversized pages, and every inch is necessary – each tiny person, depicted in careful detail, is doing something interesting. Early farmers hunt with bows and arrows, while Victorian city-dwellers arrive at a train station and buy cloth in a store. Many of the buildings have the walls “cut away” so the interiors are visible. Each page gets more and more crowded as the bucolic landscape is edged out by factories and apartment buildings and the people multiply.

It’s possible to spend minutes or much, much longer on each page, depending on the age and attention span of your child. For younger children, this is definitely a “reach” book, although they might enjoy looking at the animals, boats, and trains. Older kids will love comparing the different houses, clothes, and technologies of each era. The toilets and bathrooms (or lack thereof) may be especially fascinating. It’s also fun to find Henry Hyde, a “time traveler” from a present day museum, on each page, à la Where’s Waldo?.

A Street Through Time, however, does contain some violent and unsavory elements, though fewer than most Where’s Waldo? books. Several of the streets are destroyed by wars, and one page depicts a plague. Hunters shoot animals, factories pollute the sky, and people are wounded. You’re the best judge of whether your child can handle a less-varnished view of history. If they – and you – can, the trip is worth it.

Susan Fry is a writer and mother in the San Francisco Bay Area. She’s written for Stanford Magazine, salon, the San Jose Mercury News, and many other publications.

As a mother who has found herself standing up on couch (more than once I will admit), holding up my right arm and yelling “Aaargh” (the embarrassing things we do for our children…), I can certainly relate to Susan Fry’s latest installment. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do:

Why, oh, why, are children relentlessly drawn to pirates?

I’d like to think it’s the clothing – the dashing feathered hat, the billowing white shirt, and the rakish eye patch. I could even understand a fascination with romantically rustic ships. And ropes of pearls and emerald necklaces do have their appeal.

But, deep down, I know the truth. The kids want the violence, the thievery, and, above all, the freedom that comes with being a pirate. They want clashing swords, stolen loot, enemies walking the plank, and no mothers on board to tell them what to do.

Although my kids think the words “poop deck” are hilarious, I know they’d find bilge water – and most other aspects of an actual pirate’s life – much less amusing. That’s probably why many pirate books try to tread a fine line. They have to depict the violence and gore that kids find so fascinating, but still be suitable for children. Sadly, most books either wind up wallowing in blood, or else making the pirates “nice” at the end. Who wants to read about nice pirates? Not my boys.

So give these books a try. Sometimes an “Aarr!” can be more satisfying than an “Om.”

On a Pirate Ship, by Sarah Courtauld and Benji Davies. The book manages to keep the romance of a pirate’s life – wind puffing into enormous sails, twinkling stars, and a kindly pirate captain – while completely glossing over the less unsavory moments. During a storm and a battle, for example, no one gets hurt. The sailors on a conquered ship even choose to become pirates themselves. Grownups will get a kick out of jokes that will go over kids’ heads, like the party scene where the pirates celebrate with “hot, spicy drinks.”

How I Became a Pirate, by Melinda Long, illustrated by David Shannon. A little boy becomes a pirate and revels in his new freedom – there’s no need to say “please” or brush his teeth. But he also sees what he’s missing – being tucked into bed and having someone care about him during a scary storm. While the pirates remain nasty and mean, the boy is able to see what appeals to him about their lifestyle, and what doesn’t. He actually makes a choice to go home for soccer practice.

Archie and the Pirates, by Marc Rosenthal. When Archie, a monkey, is shipwrecked on a desert island, he’s not discouraged. Instead, with MacGyver-like ingenuity, Archie manages to build a house even Martha Stewart might envy. I especially like the bed that converts to a breakfast table. Archie also makes friends with an ibis and a tiger, and everyone’s happy – until pirates arrive and capture the tiger. While most pirate battles are glossed over in kids’ books, Rosenthal goes into wonderful detail about the war the animals wage, from designing and building catapults to creating a fake monkey army out of coconuts. It’s refreshing to have a book in which the pirates are actually the enemy, and roundly defeated!

See Inside Pirate Ships, By Rob Lloyd Jones and Jörg Mühle. Designed by Stephen Wright. Expert Advice by Simon Stephens. Yes, it took a lot of people to create this book, and it shows – the level of detail is astounding. Lifting the seemingly-infinite flaps is satisfying and educational for adults and children alike. The book shows aspects of maritime life not often seen in children’s books, such as ships being raised off beaches with ropes and pirates of different eras and cultures. The book does warn the reader, however, that “Most of the pirates in this book are mean and nasty.” While the little cartoon figures look cute at first glance, this book definitely falls on the less savory side of the line I mentioned earlier. Guns are fired, people are wounded, and blood flows freely. You may want to offer this one only to older children.

Susan Fry is a writer and mother in the San Francisco Bay Area. She’s written for Stanford Magazine, salon, the San Jose Mercury News, and many other publications.

This week’s installment from Susan is all about siblings – enjoy!

I’m an only child, so the whole brothers-and-sisters thing has always been a mystery to me. But now that I have two children, I’ve gotten a crash course in what it means to be a sibling. From hitting to hugging, every day is a tsunami of emotion.

To me, few author/illustrators have captured the ups and downs of sibling-hood as well as Mercer Mayer. Mayer is most well-known for his “Little Critter” series, which began in 1975 and now spans over two hundred books. Little Critter is a round little animal with spiky fur that needs a good combing, just like my own kids’ hair. He could be a hamster, he could be a guinea pig, who knows? Even Mayer won’t say.

Mayer doesn’t see the sibling relationship through rose-colored glasses. He knows that kids fight, resent each other, and sometimes want nothing more than to just get away. He even recognizes that kids may say one thing and do another. The disconnect between the words on Mayer’s pages and his illustrations can be hilarious. Little Critter announces, confidently, that he’ll share with his brother, but the picture shows them tussling over a baseball bat at Christmas. And although Little Critter claims he won’t mind if his brother finds all the Easter eggs, his frown says otherwise.

At the end of his books, however, Mayer shows that even children recognize the power of the sibling bond.

The New Baby, by Mercer Mayer. When Little Critter learns he’s going to have a new sister, he gets out all his toys to share. But the baby isn’t interested in books or jokes. Plus, she smells funny and cries a lot. Luckily, Little Critter’s mom shows him all the things he CAN do with a new baby, like cuddling and tickling. Humor might help reconcile an older sibling to a new arrival, such as watching Little Critter holding his nose as his sister waves and smiles on her way to the changing table.

Just Me and My Little Brother, by Mercer Mayer. Little Critter describes all the things he and his little brother will do together, from riding bikes to watching scary movies. But on the last page, Little Critter points to his brother – still a baby – and admits he may have to wait a little while for their adventures. The book is a good way to help older kids envision a fun future with a baby who may not seem so exciting in the present.

Me Too!, by Mercer Mayer. Little Critter is frustrated because he always has to include his little sister. Her constant cries of “Me too!” mean that Little Critter loses his paper airplane, carries her the whole time on a hike, and gives up half his cake. But just when he becomes overwhelmed, his sister gets a candy cane, and Little Critter discovers that “Me too!” means sharing can work both ways.

The Great Brain series, by John D. Fitzgerald, illustrated by Mercer Mayer. I’ve been rereading this series ever since second grade. Set in Utah at the end of the 19th century, the books follow the adventures of two children, John and his older brother Tom. Tom, “The Great Brain,” is a swindler extraordinaire. He steals money from everyone in town, even John, via elaborate and entertaining schemes. But John also sees that Tom can still be a good person and loving brother. Mercer’s illustrations bring the life of children during that era beautifully to life, as Tom and John fish at a watering hole or saddle up horses for a ride to town.

Susan Fry is a writer and mother in the San Francisco Bay Area. She’s written for Stanford Magazine, salon, the San Jose Mercury News, and many other publications.