A, B, C, D, read some books to me
Just a reminder:
Often the biggest challenge isn’t figuring out what to read — though it’s not always easy and if you’re in a bit of a slump, please know that that’s normal — it’s simply keeping the habit of reading aloud going when life is busy and everyone is overwhelmed or overstimulated or both, and you’re always tired and your kids won’t cooperate (baby toddling away, everyone left with any energy getting the wiggles at bedtime, older kiddos who aren’t as easily enticed by fresh titles from the library as they used to be, whatever it is).
If any of that is you, you’re not alone. Every time you open a book (or turn on an audiobook or leave a preview stack out where your children can’t miss it) and share a story, you’re laying a foundation of love.
You’re placing a brick of connection and cementing it with words and intention.
You’re placing another brick of acknowledgement — I see what you’re interested in, and I am interested because you are interested — and applying the mortar of language and attention.
Whether it’s five minutes while shoveling in breakfast or ten minutes before you fall asleep in the middle of a sentence in a small bed or fifteen minutes discussing a shared read: it matters more than you know.
You’re doing so much better than you think you are — an amazing job, actually. Keep going, keep building. Every brick is creating something real, and lasting, and valuable beyond measure.
A,B,C,D, Tummy, Toes, Hands, Knees by B.G. Hennessy, illustrated by Wendy Watson (1989)
🍼 Babies & Toddlers (0–3)
Don’t let the age of this one fool you — older babies and toddlers will love Watson’s sweet, soft illustrations, which depict a baby’s day with Mommy and all the things they do. (There are few things more interesting to this age group than other older babies and toddlers and whatever they’re up to.)
Hennessy’s blunt, rhythmic text manages to tell a story in the most spare way possible — “Pebbles, Rocks, Dirt, Mud, Bath, Towel, Soap, Bubbles, Splash, Kick, Little Puddles” — but it’s amazing how pleasant this language is to read aloud, so much so that you won’t mind (too much) when you’re asked to read this one again and again (and again).
Kitchen Dance by Maurie Manning (2009)
🧒 Preschool–Early Reader (3–6)
Every year there are a handful of books that make it into what I think of as our most-read list: Kitchen Dance was a shoo-in for 2021 thanks to my then-4yo, who fell in love with this title to such a degree that the only way she’d let me return it to the library was to promise I’d buy her a copy for herself (I did).
This story captures a magical moment of childhood: when you’re little and in bed but can hear the sounds of your grownups around the house. In our home this is most often the clatter of a dishwasher being loaded (both of us), or the shower being turned on (my husband), or footsteps wandering the house looking for a book (me), but here the mysterious sound is of soft singing, compelling enough to drive a little girl up the ladder of her bunk bed to get her brother, and send both of them down the stairs to peek through a crack in the kitchen door.
What they find is their parents flying around the room, dancing together while cleaning up from dinner. The two children are captivated by this kitchen dance and its various rhythms — which come through in Manning’s text as well as her creamy, evocative digital illustrations — and they’re thrilled, when their parents spot them behind the door, to join in.
Repeatedly they sing together, “¡Cómo te quiero! Oh, how I love you!” and you can absolutely feel the love, joy, comfort, and safety radiating from this family and out from the pages of this incandescent book. It’s a love song to family, literally and figuratively, and one I highly recommend.
Joan in the Cone by Billy Sharff, illustrated by Hala Tahboub (2025)
🧒 Preschool–Early Reader (3–6)
The minute I saw the cover of this adorable, funny book, I wanted to read it: who can’t relate to life in the cone? I often find myself in the cone and am just thankful it’s invisible 😂
Kids feel this too, though they mostly lack the language to describe it, and that’s part of what makes Sharff’s story here so tender and relatable. Joan is just living her best doggy life — full of good days, like when you catch every ball and each Frisbee you see — until certain choices are made, and into Joan’s serene life comes the cone.
The cone is a royal you-know-what — also something kids can relate to — but spunky Joan makes the best of it, and along with Tahboub’s bright, playful digital illustrations, young readers see that everyone makes mistakes, everyone’s life has inconveniences, but we can adjust to them, make the best of them, and get through them, if we’re willing to try.
A Lot of Otters by Barbara Berger (1997)
🧒 Preschool–Early Reader (3–6)
Like all of Berger’s titles — almost all of which I’ve reviewed at one point of another, because I got obsessed — A Lot of Otters is a weird one, but I say that in the most complimentary way. I love the other-worldliness of her books, her soft and dreamy illustrations, her stories that are equally comforting, bizarre, and somehow satisfying to the soul.
This title delivers in all of those ways, with perhaps even extra emphasis on the dream-like qualities of her work. Here, the story opens with a small boy floating on a body of water in a cardboard box, and Mother Moon is looking for her child: “Where is my moonlet? Where is—” The boy accidentally drops his book into the water where a lot of otters find it. Mother Moon continues to call for her child, crying tears that turn into stars that fall into the sea. The otters chase the stars, taste the stars — “they wrestled and rolled and rubbed the starlight into their fur” — until all this activity catches the attention of Mother Moon, who looks down and finally sees her little one, “safe with a lot of otters in a sea of stars.”
If you’re thinking the depiction of all of this is probably a bit strange and also lovely, you’re exactly right, and that’s exactly what this book is: a bit strange and also lovely.
Lilac and the Switchback by Cordelia Jensen (2025)
📚 Middle Grade (9–12)
In her newest middle-grade novel in verse, Jensen brings us her best character yet: Lilac, a 12-year-old who feels like an “extra” in her family (living with her aunt, uncle, and cousin after her mother’s untimely death) and to her best — or is it former best? — friend.
Like all of her books — I’ve read them all — Jensen deftly weaves in her main character’s hobby, and therefore a thread of imagery that flows throughout the story. It’s more than a narrative device — here, Lilac’s interest in hiking and her after-school trailblazing club, including a project to restore an old trail, is a truly lovely metaphor for her complicated journey through her grief and belonging.
Add in her estranged father — who she has secretly reconnected with — a new friend, a gentle love interest, a school field trip she’s pinned all her hopes on, and her beloved aunt, suddenly on bedrest with twins on the way, and you have a heartfelt story perfect for 9-12-year-old readers interested in stories about family, friendship, and finding oneself when you feel — especially when you feel — lost.
Thanks for reading today!
Sarah
Doing an Inter Library Loan for A lot of Otters bc if looks THaT good :)
Thank you so much Sarah!!! I really appreciate this review of Lilac and the Switchback, so wonderful!!