Of love and teeth and running out of spit (JE # 2)

With all this icy weather and dangerous driving conditions, staying home has created a little extra time for reading. It also enabled my son and I to talk more about what he's been doing at school, and he explained the toothbrush I found in his backpack by telling me someone had been talking to his class about how to take care of their teeth. This worked out perfectly since he'd recently lost a second tooth and we had picked out a couple of books from the library on the topic. He wanted to read Tooth Decay and Cavities (Dr. Alvin Silverstein, et al.) and we had a pretty interesting discussion about animals, the various teeth types of which the first pages discuss. Like most little boys, my son digs animals, so this was right up his alley.

He has a tendency to try to take over the reading or conversation, so it can sometimes be a challenge not to let that happen while still giving him fair room for comments and testing out his knowledge of the books and issues we are discussing. We didn't get very far into the book, but he did remember several pages away that the teeth you lose are also called milk teeth; commented how cute a baby pictured was; and cried out happily at the sight of a girl who'd lost one tooth,"Ah! She only has one lost and I've already got two out!" And when the book briefly mentions the Tooth Fairy--a figure whose intrusive entry and access to such close personal space as he slept alarmed him enough to want her to deposit the money in his shoe--he reminded me that in at least one other country the kids throw their teeth up over their houses. It was pleasant to hear him reiterate from another book we'd read together, Throw Your Tooth on the Roof, one of the traditions he learned of that occurs in another country.

There also was a book he'd picked up at the library, I Love You Through and Through, that he has been carrying with him all over the house. Owing to a lost library book that we now own, I had long ago established that no borrowed books are allowed to be brought to his room; instead they must stay on the living room shelves and permission must be sought to remove any from the room. This one, however, seems to have struck him in a special way. I'm not sure if it is the cute baby on the cover holding up a teddy bear in the same way a mom holds aloft a tiny baby.


The picture is mainly soft curves with no sharp edges, and the sentiment expressed--even without benefit of being able to read the words--is one of sheer affection and desire to care for another. My son seems to be a sentimental person and also has demonstrated some incredible acts of kindness, and he adores babies. Or the picture (and even the roundness and softness of the book itself) could be triggering him to feel more his own desire (previously expressed) to remain a baby. He seems attached to it in a way some kids are attached to a blankie. Then he announced he wanted to read it to me, and it started to dawn on me: this is the very first book in which I have experienced the phenomenon of him "reading" it to me., as opposed to pointing out words. I do believe some of the words he is capable of deciphering, while others, such as through, toes, nose, hair, eyes, giggles, cries, walking, talking, today and tomorrow, along with previous knowledge of children's outstanding memories, made me wonder if at least part of his reading was memorization.

Especially since the text is quite short, I think it is worth repeating it here:

I love you through and through.
I love your top side.
I love your bottom side.
I love your inside
and outside.
I love your happy side,
your sad side,
your silly side,
your mad side.
I love your fingers
and toes,
your ears
and nose.
I love your hair and eyes,
your giggles
and cries.
I love you running
and walking,
silent
and talking.
I love you through and through...
yesterday, today, and tomorrow, too!

As we read on, though, I noticed he would interrupt his own rhythm to correct himself. For example, he would have a groove going and to continue with "I love you..." would seem to fit in. Well, first of all, I know he can distinguish those particular words, but also he actually stopped to sound out what the words really were. He is getting really good at it, though sometimes gives up. I want to try to get him to do it, but don't want to push too hard--that's a balance I have to find techniques for so I can know better when is too much, and when encouragement won't risk overwhelming a child.

Finally we moved on to Otis Spofford again. As mentioned elsewhere, I'd read this book as a child and loved the chapter in which "Otis Takes Aim"--he gets into trouble for shooting spitballs. The teacher cleverly warns him that if he shoots another she will make sure he wishes he had never even thought of shooting spitballs. It was a perfect moment to engage a young reader in developing his predictive abilities. He had done pretty good articulating (and in a fairly pithy manner) the links from one development to the next. For example, after the teacher gives Otis the warning he drives himself to distraction wondering what Mrs. Gitler could possibly do to make him sorry he shot spitballs. As he absentmindedly rolls a piece of paper into a ball, Stewy urges him, "Go on. Make a spitball." We had great fun reproducing this Stewy moment, and Adam declared, with a sly smile on his face, "He just wants Otis to do it to get in trouble. Otis hit Stewy before with a spitball." There was also the perfect amount of tension as Otis is made wild with wondering just before the bell is to ring for lunch. If Otis, who really is a good student when he wants to be, but gets bored easily, if he can just make it to the bell he could go to lunch and recess and perhaps lose his obsessive interest in the teacher's threat. But the minute passes slowly and he just has to know and I read the words with urgency, Adam getting right into the mix. "Oh no!" he cried out, agitated and fidgeting, of course with the smile and bearing of someone who seems to be sure of his position as observer, not having to actually endure such suspense. However, not actually knowing what Mrs. Gitler will do, he, too, is somewhat caught up in the drama, and I saw the delight in his face as he jumped up on the bed, pretending to shoot spitballs (following my description and pretend example), "Whhffffttt! Whhffffttt!" He jumped on the bed, banging his fists together and complained, "Oh man! What will she do? She is gonna kick him!"

As it turns out Otis shoot his last spitball just as the bell rings, Mrs. Gitler ignores him and after recess assigns him to shoot spitballs into the bin as the class, distracted by a much more fun and interesting music session (clever lady!), ignores him and gets on with their day. More tension is added not only as his mouth gets drier and drier (with typical childlike hyperbole he wonders if his tongue is blackened and swollen), but also when a fire drill occurs and his failed attempt to sneak a drink from the water fountain engenders the lovely flow of smooth, clear, ice-cold water and the sensation of it within one's mouth (including Adam who, lucky me, loves water)--and then the sharp blow of having it taken away at the last second. "Oh!" Adam wailed, slapping his forehead. "Oh man I don't believe this!" he cried out happily, completely immersed in the events.

In the end Otis is forced to admit to Mrs. Gitler he has had enough of spitballs and she allows him to go get a drink. Unfortunately a terrible taste remains in his mouth even after his thirst is quenched, and he ends up biting a piece of garlic he'd snagged from his house that morning. As he exhales, the children near him are disgusted by the smell and he discovers that by blowing his breath at them, he has once more captured their attention.

I'm not sure this book would be suitable for a kindergarten (too many children and too much explaining to do in a short period of time, possibly), but I sure would love to read it to an older class. Just reading it alone presents me with so many ways to engage a child by way of asking questions, predicting, relating, talking about how events influence each other, why certain choice are good (not just Otis's actions but the choice on the part of the teacher re: activity to engage the class in to help them ignore Otis), discussing cause and effect, interpersonal communication, and so on. It was as thrilling to me as I think it was for Adam--and not just for the lesson plan possibilities.