Gravity

The Big Boy Tiny Girl Library Visit:
We did something today we’ve never done before: I took my children to the library.    I think every single mother in my neighborhood has taken their children to the reading story book time (or whatever it is they call it) at one of the various public libraries around us, but I haven’t ever seemed to make it.

I have nothing against the library, we’ve had the great fortune of being given books from many friends as well as my husband and I have our own childhood book collections to pull from.    There is that, and the desire young children have to have the same book read to them again and again, every night, for a week or more before they’re “done” with it.

Today I got in the car and followed my neighbor to the closest library which is exactly one left turn and one parking lot away from the neighborhood in which we live.   It is maybe a six minute drive.    We walked in: two adults and four boisterous children, and were happy to have all four children respect the quiet atmosphere in the library.   We went to the children’s area and then I left my two with my neighbor while I went to do something important:  I had to get a library card.   I didn’t have one.   I know, right?

I came back to find my son and his friend, Whittaker, who is only two, happily looking at some books.   I read two books to them while my neighbor read books to her daughter and my daughter.    Then, we had a bathroom issue.   I will not go into the details, but my daughter, “couldn’t quite make it” as she put it and so we left her underpants in the trash can in the rest room.    (Thankfully they were an old pair.)

When I came out of the rest room it was clear it was almost time to go home.   I almost rose my voice at that point because my daughter was happily pulling her skirt—she doesn’t commonly wear skirts—over her head.   Remember the bit about the underpants in the trash can?  So the skirt over the head bit wasn’t exactly ideal library behavior.

It was then that I noticed my neighbor was planning on checking out some books for her children.    I asked my son which two books he would like.    He brought me one titled, “Gravity” which was a little too old for him, but had fun looking pictures on the front.   I suggested he bring home the on about super loud voices because I thought that story would be a good fit for him.

I turned to ask my daughter if she’d like to pick out two books.   My neighbor said at that point, “these are the ones she’s picked out,” pointing to a large pile of books on the bench.   I hadn’t bothered to tell my children about the ordering of the books and how they should only pull out one book at a time and to, well, basically not wreck the entire collection because someone was going to have to put them back—in dewey decimal order—and that person was likely going to be cursing the little girl in the pink tutu without underpants when they did.

My daughter selected two books and we headed to the counter to check them out.    The lady at the desk was very helpful in telling me how I could renew the books up to eight times.   I explained that most of these books had fifteen pages or less and if we couldn’t get through them in two weeks, I didn’t think renewing eight more times was going to really help in the grand scheme of things.   She smiled and said have a nice day.

We got home and then lots of things happened.   Time went by and it got late, but right before bedtime my son wanted to read the Gravity book.   He remembered it and he wanted to know all about gravity.   My husband read it to him, including visual demonstrations he made up on the fly, and my son was interested the entire time.    I think he’s going to want to hear about gravity again tomorrow night.

Maybe he’ll be so interested in Gravity we’ll have to renew the book loan?