It’s Children’s Book Week, so I have a couple of posts featuring some of my favorite children’s books.
Today, I’m featuring books that use their physical form to their full potential. They bend what can be done with a book without relying on anything but paper, ink and an enthusiastic reader. Plus, many are much more post-modern than adult books while still being awesome for kids.
It’s Children’s Book Week, so I have a couple of posts featuring some of my favorite children’s books. Check out last year’s posts on the topic: Passing Down My Beloved Books, Bizarre Children’s Literature, and Tips on Reading to Babies.
Today, I’m celebrating some children’s books that draw on a rich history of literature and more importantly, make you look smart in front of your kids. These books all reference other books, especially the classics. In other words, a geek’s dream.
I know I’m behind the curve posting my best-of yearly posts the second week of January, but we had a surprisingly busy two-weeks off Christmas holiday. All of that gift-wrapping, food eating, museum visiting, and Internet browsing doesn’t just do itself. As you may have noticed, from the sidebar, I’m on Twitter, posting @storiteller. Most of the time I post links to articles on social justice, bicycling, and other political issues, with a smattering of parenting commentary. However, as not everyone is on Twitter and there’s just so much traffic, I wanted to highlight some of my favorite tweets about parenting this year. (Yes, it only goes back to June – I guess I tweeted so much that Twitter cuts off by that point.)
Spending two weeks with your extended family for the holidays is lovely, but you really need to get out of the house sometimes. That’s why when we were recently in upstate New York, we brought Sprout to not just one, but two different local museums. Unlike the New York State Museum, which was a staple of my childhood, I wasn’t intimately familiar with either of them. Both the Museum of Innovation and Science in Schenectady and the Saratoga Children’s Museum had been completely overhauled since I had visited them, with the Saratoga Children’s Museum moving to an entirely different location altogether. In contrast to sharing my favorite experiences with Sprout, these museums provided chances for us to explore them together.
GE’s all-electric car.
The Museum of Innovation and Science is a bit of an odd duck. Schenectady is home to General Electric’s research division, so it has a deep regional history. In addition to a historical exhibit on important local discoveries, it also featured a large section on MRIs and an all-electric vehicle GE built in the 1970s.
But the museum doesn’t limit itself to its geographic location, touching on space missions, alternative fuels, renewable energy, fluid dynamics, and random “sciency” things like giant Legos. It had some terrific hands-on demonstrations, including ones where you control a mini-tornado and become part of a giant 
circuit. The museum even had one of the very few things I remembered from childhood, a phosphorescent wall that left your shadow “imprinted” on it after you moved away. Sprout seemed to understand why it was neat, but was not impressed enough to stand still for it more than once.
Only one thing and one thing alone seemed to truly impress him – a huge model train exhibit. As the seasonal display, it was prominent at the very start of the museum. Sprout immediately clambered up on one of the stools nearby and watched it intently, as if anything was going to change in the hundreds of times the trains went around the tracks. 
Admittedly, there was plenty to look at. In addition to a normal town setting, there were two carnivals with tiny moving rides, a river with sea monster Champ, an ice skating rink, a train with an aquarium in it, and oddly, an oil refinery.
During our first round of train-watching, he parked himself in front of one of the carnivals, staring at the red and blue trains chugging around. We managed to drag him away to see the other exhibits, but he soon remembered his purpose and literally ran back to the trains. The second time, he practically cemented himself in front of the oil refinery section, a location that baffled and saddened my eco-justice warrior heart. Later on, I figured out that he just really liked watching the trains going in and out of the tunnel, a fact I picked up on after hearing him talk about the tunnel for the 10th time or so. Fhew – parenting crisis averted.
Between the two spots, we spent a full 45 minutes watching the trains go around and around. We tried to talk to Sprout, but the conversation rapidly devolved into him repeating the same observations over and over again. Rather limited subject matter. My mom, ever the extrovert, tried to engage the crusty old volunteer manning the display in conversation. However, he was hilariously uninterested in discussing much of anything, responding with dry, unhelpful, succinct replies.
While the featured exhibit was clearly the star of the Museum of Innovation and Science, we had nearly the opposite experience at the Saratoga Children’s Museum. Sprout was only somewhat interested in the event we went for, but enjoyed the rest of the museum heartily. With our friends unavailable on New Years Eve and no desire to tromp around in the cold, we thought we’d try something more kid-centric. Last year, Chris and Sprout attended a noontime New Years Eve count-down at our local nature center, and enjoyed it a lot.
The Saratoga Children’s Museum’s New Years Eve dance party seemed to fill a similar niche, wrapping up at the terribly late hour of 3 pm. Like any good New Years party, it had music, balloons and funny hats. Sprout gravitated to the crafts table, whereby the magic of glue sticks, glitter, and an enthusiastic toddler turned a mere sheet of construction paper into a big mess. He also wanted one of the golden crowns, which surprised me because he generally doesn’t like hats. It turned out he only liked the idea of it; Chris wore it the rest of the day, jauntily perched upon his head. While we danced a bit to disco music, we mainly threw balloons at each other and played a mini-basketball game. Overall, Sprout was a lot less interested than I thought he would be. He adores dancing at home, but just wasn’t that interested there. (He loves singing at home, but doesn’t sing in music class either, so maybe it’s just a private vs. public preference.) Instead, he wandered out the door after less than a half-hour. On the other hand, he did mention the dance party several other times that day.
Fortunately, there were plenty of other things to do at the museum. The very first thing he headed for was a fake fire engine, which was rather funny considering he refused to get on a real fire truck when visiting the local firehouse the day before. The upstairs also had a play veterinarians’ office, grocery store, bank, school and diner. While Sprout’s little too young to understand the bank and the school was cluttered, the diner and vet’s office were just his speed. He eagerly listened to the stuffed dog’s heart with the stethoscope and stabbed it with the toy needle. While I love that he loves animals, I really hope he doesn’t start asking for a pet!
Downstairs had the ever-popular train table and giant bubble ring, along with some more locally-oriented exhibits. One was a mock-up of the real Congress Park in Saratoga, where Chris and I had our first kiss. Along with a scattering of puppets, the “play version” had animal costumes where kids could pretend to be a bug in an exoskeleton. Sprout was tickled at pulling the sides of the ladybug around him, especially when I put the bug-eye glasses on him.
But the most unique thing was a large model of the trolleys that used to transport people between Saratoga and neighboring towns. The museum cleverly had a ticket booth with different colored tickets matching your destination. Sprout reveled in sitting in the driver’s seat, taking tickets, turning the wheel and saying “all aboard!” It was challenging coaxing him away from it so other kids could take a turn.
Because I didn’t have a lot of expectations either way, the only disappointing thing about both museums was that my dad couldn’t fully participate. Because of a torn ACL, he didn’t come to the Schenectady museum at all and spent the time at the Saratoga one sitting away from the action. There’s no way in hell he would have danced – my wedding and his own were the rare occasions that happened – but he would have been able to interact more if he wasn’t stuck sitting the whole time. Fortunately, we had a lovely lunch at a nearby restaurant beforehand, so we had quality time together there.
It was good to return home and rediscover some little gems that I would have never gone to as an adult. I’m glad to see the area surrounding my hometown is still serving its youngest residents well!
How can anyone dislike Santa Claus? However, my relationship with him as an adult is a bit ambiguous. While I hate lying, I’m a storyteller at heart. I hate the modern-day commercialism around Santa Claus, but love the magic of the toymaker myth. So I thought I was going to have a lot of heartache about how to treat Santa Claus when Sprout got old enough to understand him. But I think I’ve come upon an approach that makes sense – emphasizing the idea of Santa Claus as a character rather than an actual person.
It certainly helps that Sprout is the most familiar with Santa as a character rather than a real person. We already read about Santa in books, from ones as simple as Biscuit’s Pet and Play Christmas to as weird as Lemony Snicket’s The Lump of Coal. The un-reality of Santa is emphasized even more by the fact that Santa isn’t even human in all of the books – in Pete the Cat Saves Christmas, he’s a cat, and Merry Christmas, Ollie! features Father Christmas Goose.
Through these stories, we can talk about whatever parts of Santa we want to, instead of the dominant cultural version. We’ll emphasize the idea of Santa as a generous toy giver who brings gifts because he loves people, just as we give each other gifts because we love each other. (And to tie to the actual religious part of Christmas, because people loved Jesus and brought gifts to him.) We won’t touch the “good girls and boys” nonsense with a ten foot pole because I’m already ideologically opposed to using toys as rewards.
Now, distinguishing between a character and a real person sounds terribly naive when talking to a two-year-old. But while little kids have difficulty distinguishing between fantasy and reality, it doesn’t mean that they’re incapable of it. Contrary to 1960s British “moral campaigner” Mary Whitehouse’s position, kids back then did not actually believe that Tom Baker (then playing the Doctor in Doctor Who) was actually drowning for the entire week between a cliffhanger and resolution. Even Sprout, who is only two, knows that characters in books are not “real.”
So when it comes time for him to find out that Santa isn’t a “real” person, I hope that this approach allows us to acknowledge the fundamental fiction of Santa while maintaining the magic and spirit. An excellent book for doing this, which is also had the most heart-breaking first chapter of anything I’ve ever read, is The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus, by Julie Lane. (There’s a couple of other books of that name, but this is the best, obviously.) The beautiful part of it is that it roots Santa Claus and the traditions associated with him in tragic, beautiful, real world (albeit still fictional) circumstances while maintaining a little of the mystery.
Besides “Santa as story,” I think it’s also important when the time comes to provide some explanation as to why we’ve been pretending to be Santa this whole time. Fortunately, even that’s rooted in an idea that Sprout understands – cosplay! Because of our foray into costuming for Baltimore Comic Con, he already understands that sometimes adults wear costumes and pretend to be characters because it’s fun. Clearly, people dress as Santa because everyone wants to be him. People dressed as Batman or Groot aren’t actually Batman or Groot, but it’s fun to pretend we are. And who wouldn’t want to be Santa? He gets to give out presents, eat cookies, ride on a sled pulled by flying reindeer, and only works for a month a year (I assume production at the North Pole starts in late November).
No matter how we get there, I want to teach Sprout that we are all Santa for each other. While there’s no single jolly old man in red dropping off presents, we can act in that spirit by giving each other gifts and reaching out to those in need. Instead of Christmas becoming an orgy of consumer receiving, we want to frame it as a gentle season of generosity. And if I can teach him that, the magic of Santa will always be in his life.
My job as a parent is not to protect my child from monsters; it’s to teach him how to fight them. Because, one day, sooner or later, I won’t be able to protect him, whether that’s because of physical distance or just a stage in life. So in the meantime, I want to expose him to children’s stories with monsters, stories that give you nightmares and make you hide behind the sofa.
A few months ago, I read The Ocean at the End of the Lane, a beautiful book dripping with childhood half-remembered thoughts and fears. Neil Gaiman is one of my favorite authors, who manages to make the mythic so very personal. His stories – even and especially those for children – tap into narratives bigger than us, dredge the dark parts of our minds and bring out the terror, but also, the strength, courage, and beauty. He says that parents are more scared by his book Coraline than children, because it’s about parents’ fears as much as their children’s. Similarly, a quote from Maurice Sendak at the beginning of The Ocean at the End of the Lane expresses this balance between children’s and adults’ fears perfectly: “I remember my own childhood vividly. I knew terrible things. But I knew I mustn’t let adults know I knew. It would scare them.”
Much of my other favorite media covers the same territory: Doctor Who, Lost, SeaQuest DSV, X-Files and Harry Potter. Unsurprisingly, my taste in children’s literature runs along the same lines. As the source of this blog’s title, Where the Wild Things Are is a favorite of mine. Notably, the Wild Things aren’t the scariest thing in the book – Max’s loneliness is. But it’s also what draws him home on the end.
From Doctor Who Weeping Angel meme generator
Reading and watching these movies and books, I want Sprout to feel fear, understand its roots, and learn how to channel it. As the Doctor says in Listen, fear is a superpower. When you fear something, you know that it’s important for some reason. Maybe the fear is of something physically dangerous like a rattlesnake or as socially harmful as being seen as stupid. What we fear and how we react to it reveals our values, even if we don’t want to admit them. Being afraid of people who are a different race is racist. Being afraid of looking stupid means we value intelligence, while fear of looking mean means we value compassion. We need to look long and hard at our fears, whether to change something about who we are or find ways to confront them.
Besides monsters and fear, the other common element in all of these stories are protagonists who face the dangers armed with skill, bravery, sharp wits and compassion. Many of them explore unknown places and meet different cultures with a sense of wonder and joy. To quote the under-appreciated Craig Ferguson on Doctor Who, the show is about “The triumph of intellect and romance over brute force and cynicism.” Although I enjoy superheroes and their drag-out brawls, they can never have my heart like these non-violent (or minimally violent) heroes.
While stories about ordinary children facing ordinary problems have their place, stories about protagonists facing foes bigger than our reality have a special role. To children, everything is bigger than them. So if this character can resolve this huge problem, maybe they can too.
I want Sprout to learn from these characters because the tactics they use against fantastical monsters are applicable in real life. While he will never have a (properly functioning) sonic screwdriver, he can be kind and smart. He can approach people who are different from him not with fear, but a respectful interest in listening to their stories.
And he can work together with them. Heroes in these stories never work alone – they almost always work in teams. They may feel alone at times, but they know they can find refuge in the welcome of their friends and family. They realize there is no such thing as a lone wolf, that no one can do good individually, unconnected from community.
These stories provide patterns to help my son band together with others to form communities outside the damaging systems of power, whether the toxic politics of high school or the restrictions of our industrial food system. Open mics and community gardens alike can be refuges and places we can break down walls.
I want my son to experience scary stories because they provide a foundation to build a life where he can stand up against the true monsters of this world: hate, injustice, greed and unjustified fear. If you don’t learn to deal with make-believe monsters, how can you handle the real ones?
What were your favorite scary stories as a kid? What did you get out of them?
I’m not a huge fan of the Disney princesses, but I have always been a knights and castles kind of girl. The sieges, battles and court fascinated me since I was in elementary school. So combined with my love of dressing up, it’s a natural fit for me to love Renaissance faires, which offer the most fantastical and romanticized version of that era possible. Thankfully, they’re very family friendly, even for the youngest of kids. After we had a great time last year, we brought Sprout back to the Maryland Renaissance Festival again last weekend. With these experiences, here are a few things I’ve learned about attending these events with young children:
1) Know that they involve lot of walking, but aren’t stroller-friendly.
Renaissance faires are typically held in huge fields, with more than 100 exhibitors and stands. As they mimic a village, the buildings take up more room than you would expect – they’re not crammed in like booths at a craft fair. They’re often planned like a medieval village with odd little side streets, so seeing everything requires walking in circles. In addition, they can serve thousands of people a day, so the parking lot is very large. As a result, you may walk more than a mile or even two over the course of the day. However, I wouldn’t recommend bringing a stroller, if possible. The paths are usually unpaved and our faire has a number of very steep hills. They can also be very crowded. If your little one can’t walk that far, a baby backpack is the best bet. If you do bring a stroller, it needs to be a heavy-duty one; an umbrella stroller will be useless on the terrain.
The juggler that Sprout found surprisingly funny.
2) Figure out what shows you want to see on the drive there.
With more than 50 separate shows to choose from at 12 locations, there’s a lot to do at our faire. From mini-plays to knighting kids, it can be overwhelming, not to mention wandering bards on the paths. As a result, it’s easy to lose track of time and completely miss the show you really want to see. We decided that the one show we really wanted to see was the jousting; everything else was a bonus. On the way there, we stopped for a juggler with an absurd German accent that Sprout found surprisingly entertaining.
3) Buy tickets online, if you can.
The lines can be long and our faire offers tickets for the same price online as at the Gate. The faster you can get everyone inside, the better.
4) Feel free to dress up – or not.
Like Comic-Con, one of the most fun things to do at the Renaissance faire is costume spotting. Staff and attendees alike are often elaborately dressed, ranging from historically accurate to just ornately pretty. If you want to get in on it, you can make your own or in some cases, even rent them there. But also don’t feel obliged to dress up. I’ve gone in costume previously but went in jeans this year because I really didn’t want to deal with multiple layers of skirts at port-a-potties.
5) Dress to adapt for changing weather.
Whether you wear a costume or not, be prepared for the weather. Faires tend to be almost completely outside with hardly anywhere that provides protection from the elements. Last year at the beginning of September, the sun beat down and I was sweaty in my sleeveless but lined dress. This year in October, the highs in the mid-50s made us feel a bit chilled despite our layered sweaters and jackets. We didn’t bring rain gear, but it would have been a good idea.
6) Bring a water bottle.
As many faires are in the summer and early fall, it can be staggeringly hot. Combined with the amount of walking, both parents and kids can easily get dehydrated. The food can be expensive with long lines, so it’s best to fill up your own bottle at water stations there.
7) Set a shopping budget.
One of my favorite things about the Renaissance Faire is that it’s an artist and crafter showcase in disguise. Small artisans, including leather workers, weavers, glassblowers, jewelry makers, toy makers, and costume designers sell their wares, all with a medieval flair. But they also charge prices appropriate to their time and effort, which can be much higher than retail. It’s easy to either spend far more than you intended or decide the prices are too high and regret it later. (Some of the vendors have websites, but their inventory is generally much worse than in person.) Often, the faire will list vendors on its website, so if you can look over it ahead of time, you can set a list of things you might want to buy (ex. a handmade toy sword) and how much you want to spend.
6) Be willing to spend a little on extras.
Along with the shows and vendors, the Maryland Festival has a variety of “amusements,” including a maze, Jacob’s ladder, ax throwing, archery, tests of strength, giant slides, and puzzle games. Unlike the County Fair carnival, which has the sole purpose of separating you from your money, the atmosphere is more laid back. The games also tend to be much cheaper and more unique. I spent a dollar to play a giant wooden pinball machine and the amusement value for both Sprout and I justified the price.
7) Take some time for free play.
Being overly scheduled or dragged from booth to booth can be boring for kids, so it’s good to let them run around. Our faire has a playground built around a giant wooden pirate ship. Having watched some of the other kids on it, I do ask that you take away their new toy swords before you let them loose on the playground.
8) Try to teach your toddler to say the word “Renaissance.”
We weren’t trying to teach Sprout, but he just picked it up from conversation and it’s really adorable.
My husband came up with a particularly hair-brained, nerdy idea in the spring – to dress him and Sprout up as Groot and Rocket Raccoon from Guardians of the Galaxy for a comic book convention. This is despite the fact that we have exactly zero cosplay experience. This idea would have disappeared into the Black Hole of Absurd Plans that Will Never Happen if I didn’t bring it up again last month. I believe my exact words were, “If you really want to do this for Baltimore Comic Con, we better get started.” And we did (eventually). The result was after many long nights last week, we attended Baltimore Comic Con in full Groot, Gamora and Rocket Raccoon costumes! Check out our Facebook album with photos of us and other cosplayers.
Here are a few lessons we learned, especially on cosplaying with a two-year-old:
1) Don’t be intimated by cosplayers online: Because I am a child of the Internet, I began with Google. As I told Chris, this wasn’t just for Halloween and I wanted our costumes to “not be embarrassing.” However, searching cosplay brings up a huge number of photos of screen-realistic, hugely complex costumes made by people who are or want to be professional costume designers. But looking at these beautiful but staggering cosplays, along with comments like, “The aim, for me, is not to make a costume which is clearly a costume, to have a finished product look unrealistic; the aim is to make the real world around it look unrealistic” made me want to go hide in a corner. Fortunately, I got over my neuroses and we just did the best we could.
2) On the other hand, use blogs and websites for inspiration and instruction: Once you recognize that you won’t be at the level of professional or semi-professional cosplayers, you can figure out what tips and tricks you can borrow from them. Chris got a lot of ideas for his Groot costume from this heavily-linked how-to and this less-complex but still excellent one. While this blogger’s attention to detail was way beyond my ken, her instructions for Gamora’s gauntlets were really useful. Also, think about how you can substitute out certain materials if needed. I wasn’t going to buy a bunch of dog leashes for the gauntlets, but a thick raffia ribbon Chris bought for something else was perfect.
3) If you’re dressing as a female superhero, ratchet your modesty way down and embrace your body for what it is: The first thing my mom said when she saw the movie poster of Gamora was, “Well, that’s skimpy.” Thanks for the encouragement, Mom. The funny thing is that Gamora is way more covered up than the large majority of female superheroes, including Wonder Woman, Power Girl (with her notorious “boob window”), Huntress, and even the 1970s version of Gamora. As Chris said, “At least Gamora has pants.” Even the female superheroes who aren’t showing a lot of skin, like Black Widow and Rogue from the X-Men, wear ridiculously tight clothing. As a pretty modest person who has held the opinion that “leggings are not pants” for a long time, this was very new for me. In addition, my body shape has not even a passing resemblance to Zoe Saldana’s, who played Gamora in the movie. But despite my body image woes, once I put the final outfit on, my self-consciousness started slipping away. As I saw some cosplayers that weren’t even close to the original character’s body type, being in costume is a chance to ignore the normal rules of society about what you should or shouldn’t wear.
4) If you can’t make it, fake it: I do not sew. My mom is an excellent seamstress – she made all of my Halloween costumes – but I never bothered learning from her. As Gamora’s costume required a ton of sewing, I looked for off-the-rack pieces online that I could modify to look somewhat like the original costume. I did the same thing for Rocket’s jumpsuit – I bought orange toddler pajamas instead of sewing them. This may also be useful if the needed material is particularly difficult to work with. Both spandex and faux leather – common superhero materials – are supposed to be very difficult to sew well.
5) Give yourself plenty of time to get your necessary supplies: Unfortunately, because I didn’t sew, I was at the mercy of online retailers. Despite ordering with plenty of advance notice, I didn’t receive two out of the three key pieces for my costume until four days before the convention. Similarly, don’t count on your local stores having what you need. I planned on buying green lipstick from our local costume store. I found out they were out two days before the con, too late to buy it on Amazon unless I wanted to spend an absurd amount on shipping.
6) Be prepared to spend more time and money than expected: Cosplaying takes a lot of resources, especially if you’re investing in it for the first time. Chris said, “It’s like cooking a meal, but you have to buy all of the pots, too.” But there are some ways to cut the cost, including recycled cardboard where possible, shopping thrift stores (although I find this more useful for generic costumes than specific characters) and using craft and fabric store coupons.
7) Recognize that you will be going to your local craft store at least twice as many times as you expected: As my father-in-law says, “No project is complete without at least three trips to Home Depot.” The same goes for the craft or fabric store and cosplay, although it may include the hardware store as well, depending on your costume. If you think you have everything with one trip, it’s a guarantee you don’t.
8) Heavily invest in craft foam: A lot of cosplay requires heavy-duty construction. While cardboard may work for some of it, craft foam is surprisingly versatile. It’s flexible, sturdy and easy to measure and cut. Even if your costume mainly involves sewing, you probably need accessories, which craft foam will often work for in a pinch.
9) Become best friends with your low-temp glue gun: Glue guns are to cosplay what duct tape is to home repair. I got more use out of the glue gun than I have since I was obsessed with making Pom-Pom animals in third grade. Low-temp is important for two reasons. One, you will burn yourself, multiple times. Low-temp burns hurt, but can usually be dealt with by shaking your finger vigorously and peeling off the glue afterwards. In contrast, high-temp glue will give you a nasty second-degree burn. I still have a blister on my middle finger when I hit the switch that goes from high to low temp on the glue gun. The other reason to use low-temp is that high-temp melts craft foam and similar materials like pipe insulation.
10) Buy the right tools for the job: I originally tried to use a photo glue stick to adhere the glitter that I planned to use to mimic Gamora’s shiny blue, pixelated fabric. Within a day, all of the glitter came off, and as the herpes of craft supplies, got lot lots of places it wasn’t supposed to be. I went back to Michaels and purchased glue specifically for adhering glitter to fabric, which worked much better.
11) Try on your costume early, so you have plenty of time to fix it: My original design for Sprout’s costume didn’t fit over his head. Much of the Velcro I attached to my bodysuit and vest came unglued when I put the costume on and the fabric stretched out. Chris freaked out at 11 pm on Saturday night when he put his costume on and it revealed large unpainted spots. Unless you have a full dressmakers mannequin (and even then), your costume is going to look and act much differently on the hanger or table than it does on you.
12) Acclimate your kid to both the idea of costumes and the actual costumes themselves: This may not be a problem for older kids, but at two, Sprout didn’t remember his Halloween costume at all. We had to reintroduce the idea that we could dress up as other people, but still be ourselves. “Just a costume” was repeated a number of times in our household the week before the Con. We explained over and over that daddy would be dressed up like a tree, mommy like a green lady, and Sprout as a raccoon. But even if kids know what a costume is, they may still be surprised or frightened if their parents are in a costume or makeup that makes them look dramatically different. To protect against that, we introduced the various pieces of the costumes over time. We let him wear his ears and tail around the house. I tried on my wig in front of him not long after I received it, which he declared was “Big hair!” While he first went “No no no no,” he became more intrigued by it as the two weeks went on. Similarly, I applied the full green face paint in front of him a few days before so he knew what I looked like in it. Seeing me in it also made him much more amenable to it when we needed to apply it for his raccoon eyes. Lastly, Chris showed him the full Groot costume several times before wearing it in front of him because that thing could give you nightmares. Although Sprout’s initial reaction was similar to the wig, he eventually warmed to it. When the day finally came, he was fine with all of the makeup and costumes, in part I think because we did so much preparation.
13) Be flexible, especially with kid(s): My only concern day-of was that Sprout would refuse to put on his armor, which I spent a long time working on. While he actually was fine with the armor, he did completely refuse to do something else. We signed him up for the kids’ costume contest, in the under-11 category. I figured his charm offensive and cuteness would out balance any lack of screen accuracy. But when we reached the Ballroom, he took one peek in and said, “No. No no no no no” and shook his head. With the wait for pre-judging being a hour and him without a nap, we didn’t force the issue.
14) If you have elaborate costumes, especially of well-known characters, expect to get some (or a lot, depending on the con) of attention: As I mentioned, my goal was not be embarrassed. As it turned out, we were downright popular. We had people ask for our photo at least 30 times or more. People would exclaim, “Groot!” or ask Chris, “Who are you?” so they could get the “I am Groot!” response. But my favorite was the little boy who caught me just before I was going to get changed. He yelled “Gamora! She’s my favorite.” He the turned to Sprout and said, “You’re lucky. Your mom can kick anyone’s butt in the whole galaxy.” Bless you, child.
15) Have fun!
Lemons hung from an arch became a sun gate. A billowing blue sheet made silky ocean waves. Plastic streamers attached to a wooden pole transformed into a jellyfish. All of these images captivated the small children sitting around the “stage” of Imagination Stage’s show Acquarium, including my son.
Imagination Stage has been on my “to do” list with Sprout for a while, but the right opportunity didn’t come up until my friend emailed me two weeks ago. While my friends don’t have kids yet, their cousins were visiting from France with their 3 and 5 year old children. It seemed like the ideal opportunity.
We met them at the theater, located in downtown Bethesda. While it doesn’t have its own parking, it’s close to several garages and is less than a mile from the Metro. The theater has a cute alleyway next to it, decorated with huge multi-colored balls and metal swirls. It was perfect for Sprout to run up and down while we waited. They also had what looked like a really nice store, but it wasn’t open before the show.
Inside, the theater was a large, open floor space with some seating on risers beyond it. However, nearly all of the children and their parents were gathered around the performance space. Because we came in a little late, we were placed to the side, but the performers played to the entire audience as much as possible.
Like most theater for very little ones, there wasn’t much of a plot, but it was so enchanting that it didn’t matter. The story was a series of vignettes by the two main characters, Jack and Calypso, who were dressed like they were in a storybook version of Gilligan’s Island. It followed their journey through a full day to reach the fabled land of Aquarium, under the sea. After the “sun” rose, flowers needed to be planted in the garden, sheep needed to be herded, and the stars needed to come out.
Each of these different sequences was very interactive, helping engage even the antsiest of kids. Each child received a lemon and gave it to one character to hang on the arch. An adult helper from the audience handed out pieces of seaweed that magically bloomed into flowers with a pull on a piece of ribbon. The actors invited the children up to “rake” a piece of fake turf and “plant” their flowers under it. The cast managed the children beautifully, making it seem not like they were giving back their props but participating in the story. As far as I could tell, there was not a single meltdown, a huge accomplishment for this age group.
Throughout the performance, these interactive pieces were accompanied by lyrical monologues, goofy banter, and otherworldly props. While there were some silly jokes – mostly bad puns – much of the script was lovely, surreal free verse. It complemented the captivating imagery. I think the combination of the two would work even for children who are mostly non-verbal, as my friends’ nephews enjoyed it and they don’t even speak English.
The last two sequences were particularly enchanting. At “night,” the lead actress walked slowly around the edge of the crowd, holding a wheel with cut-outs, the lights down low. The reflective wheel scattered the spotlights, creating shimmering, twinkling stars on the floor and wall. As she walked and spun, she recited a poem that reminded me of some of the best children’s literature. Even I was mesmerized. While I’m usually looking at Sprout’s reaction, I just enjoyed the experience of wonder.
The show culminated in the final scene where they finally reached the oceanic Aquarium. The actors spread out a huge blue sheet across the entire floor, with all of the children and adults invited to take an edge and shake their hands up and down like the old parachute game. The actors tossed silver fish puppets onto the bouncing waves, making them dance and fly up in the air. Softly glowing blue lights and quiet music enhanced the underwater feel. When the lights finally came up, we sighed and blinked, emerging from a place of magic.
The only possible complaint I had is that the floor there is pretty hard, especially when a child insists on sitting on your lap for much of the performance. But that’s just a consequence of getting old, I suppose.
While we actually caught the last show of Aquarium, Imagination Stage regularly does shows throughout the year, including shows for very young children. It was a wonderful experience for the children and adults alike and I look forward to bringing Sprout to another show in the future.
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