Category Archives: Storytime

Storytime moment

This morning, in my Thursday Toddler storytime, I had a last-minute additional family.  The mom called fifteen minutes prior, and asked if she could come to today’s storytime, since they’d had to drop out of the Monday storytime due to a conflict.  “Sure,” I said, “No problem – see you soon.”

But I hadn’t realized that Mary’s older sister, Grace, who is four, also would be attending.  Grace hadn’t come to the Monday storytimes with Mary (she must be in preschool on Mondays), and so I didn’t have a nametag for her.  Usually kids don’t really notice whether or not they have a nametag, so I didn’t worry too much.

Mid-way through the storytime, though, Grace raised her hand, “Abby?  I don’t have a nametag…” 

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I didn’t know that you’d be coming today,” I said, “but I’m very happy that you’re here!  I’ll make you a nametag for next week, ok?”

Even as she nodded ok, Grace’s eyes filled with tears.  She was about to lose it.

“Would you like to wear my nametag, Grace?”  Big, grateful, happy nod.  And Grace was Abby for the rest of the storytime.

Felt stories

Last night I stayed up until ten o’clock working on two more feltboard stories:  versions of Mouse’s First Halloween by Lauren Thompson and Humbug Witch by Lorna Balian.  I’ll use the mouse story with this morning’s toddler storytime (replacing the hugely unsuccessful Leaf Man by Lois Ehlert that I used in the two Monday toddler storytimes), and I’ll use both stories with this afternoon’s preschool storytime. 

Halloween is just about my favorite holiday, and I’m really looking forward to these two storytimes.  It’s a great feeling when I find a story that translates well to a feltboard retelling, and an even better feeling when I actually have the time to create the felt pieces.

In other feltboard news, last Friday I hosted a preschool class for a storytime, and used my in-process pieces (in-process because this is such an involved story to translate to the medium of felt) for Where’s Spot? by Eric Hill.  The kids loved the story, and one even cried out mid-story:  “This is cool!  It’s just like a puppet show!!”

Someday, I promise, I’ll post a few photos of my felt stories.  I’m having so much fun making and using them that I’d really love to share them with the three people who read my blog…or is it four?  🙂

Process art

Thursday was the first time that I attempted a process art project in my preschool storytime.  And it was one of the more wonderful experiences of my library career.

Quite a while ago, I had firmly decided that I wanted to pursue process art projects with this age group, but I was heavy on the concept, short on the specifics.  So I was thrilled when I found MaryAnn Kohl’s book Preschool Art: It’s the Process, Not the Product.  Not only did the title match my thinking, but the book is a well-thought-out and easy to use resource that also provides a wonderful photocopy-ready explanatory page to hand out to parents.

In planning this fall’s preschool storytimes, I decided to establish a three-week rotation:  storytelling with puppets week one, feltboard story week two, and process art week three.  That way we’re not overly heavy on the arts/craft angle, and we get to explore alternate ways to approach stories in two of the three weeks.

For the first process art project, I chose Kohl’s “Dark Sugar Chalk.”  After reading two stories aloud, I explained to the nine kids in attendance that we needed to do some prep work for our art, then we’d sit back down for a last story before doing our artwork.  This terrific bunch of kids took turns helping me measure out the water, add scoops of sugar, and stir the mixture, then everyone helped plunk pieces of chalk into the sugar water.  Totally riveted, we noticed that little bubbles come out of the chalk, and that it immediately starts to turn a darker, brighter color.

While the chalk soaked, we read one last story, then packed up our carpet squares, moved the tables to the center of the room, and fished the chalk out of the water into dry tubs.  And here came the best part: the kids colored with this bright, less smudgey chalk on black poster board, playing with the colors and the quality of the chalk, experimenting with using cotton balls to moosh the colors around, putting one layer of chalk on top of another…generally having a great time messing around with this new medium and discovering its qualities.

One of the children went back to the tub that contained the sugar water, and dipped some cotton balls in that mixture, then went back to his art and experimented with using those sugary cotton balls to smush and blend the colors.  Another child dipped her finger into the sugar water, and noticed that the sugar hadn’t completely dissolved, so that she could trace almost invisible pictures in that layer of sugar.  Yet another child discovered that he could draw pictures with the chalk on the inside surface of the dry plastic tubs.  Needless to say, all of these discoveries were shared with the group, and each of the children tried a variety of techniques and approaches that I would never have anticipated.

It was incredibly fun, and so rewarding to see how the kids responded.  I had a fantastic time, and can’t wait ’till our next project!

Note on materials used:  I bought sheets of black poster board, and cut each sheet into four pieces (bigger pieces wouldn’t have fit well on the tables we use, though bigger pieces would be a lot of fun).  The chalk was remarkably hard to find: I went to five different stores before finding regular Crayola colored chalk at Crosby’s Supermarket in Concord.  The plastic tubs are storage tubs from IKEA – they’re perfect for this kind of project.  Not too big, not too deep, not too expensive, easy to carry because they have a broad lip all around the edge.

Really? Are you sure???

I just had the oddest comment from a kindergarten teacher who had come to observe the preschool class that attended my infant storytime this morning.  This teacher and I had talked ahead of time about how it might be a bit interesting, having a group of preschoolers joining in with a storytime that’s intended for babies; we were wondering how well it would work out. 

And after it was all over, the teacher came up to me and said, “You know, that worked out incredibly well!  They were very attentive!  And, of course, it really helps that you have a lovely singing voice!”

Wait a second.  Did she just say that I have a “lovely singing voice”???

She did.

I’m in shock.

It’s tough

It’s hard to be peppy and fun and sing with abandon when you’re exhausted.

The babies are arriving, and I’m trying really, really hard to get psyched up for their arrival.  Wake up, Abby, wake up.  Time to be perky!  Time to lead a group of babies in raucous fun!  Time to bang the drum and ring the bells and wave the scarves!

(and my little voice inside, underneath it all, says, “Time to take a nap.  zzzzzzz.”)

Nerves, part II

Storytime went ok – not great, just ok.  The thing about being nervous is that it can wreak an otherwise great storytime:  I’m not having as much fun, I’m doubting myself…and then everyone else doesn’t have as much fun, and they start to look at me a bit funny, as if they’re thinking, “She’s not all that.  Hmmmm.”

And, there are the stupid errors.  At the end of the storytime, I said, “Ok, let’s sing our closing song now!!  The song we always sing at the end of storytime!  [I inserted the name of the song here, and I’m honestly not sure whether I said “The More We Get Together” or “If You’re Happy and You Know It.”]  Here we go!!”  And then I started to sing “The More We Get Together,” which is our opening song, not our closing song.  I caught myself halfway, finished the song, and admitted that it was the first storytime of the year and I’d made a mistake.  And then we sang the correct song, “If You’re Happy and You Know It.”  Sigh.

Let’s hope I’m not nervous again tomorrow morning, for my first Mother Goose on the Loose program in a while.  Sigh.  (And hopefully I’ll sleep tonight, too.  That would be good.)

Nerves

Storytimes start again today, and I’m ridiculously nervous.

I’ve done this particular storytime (Toddler ~ Babies) before; I know more than half of the kids and parents who will be attending; and I stayed a half hour late on Saturday and got to work a half hour early today (off the clock, of course) to do prep work.  And, as usual, I did prep work yesterday (Sunday), and when one of the books I’d planned on using was sub-par, Jim drove me to the library at Patriots half time to pick up a different book.

There is absolutely NO reason for me to be nervous.  But I am.  Wish me luck!

Again?

Now that I’m about to start back up with the Toddler Storytimes (a week to go and counting…), I’ve been going back to the first lesson plans that I created last year.  And, well, they’re substandard.  That is to say, by the end of last year I’d worked out a nice system for these storytimes, and I’d gotten rather picky about the quality of my felt pieces for the feltboard stories.  These early plans just don’t measure up to the standards that I had set once I got in the flow of the toddler storytimes.  And thinking back, I didn’t even have a feltboard on which to tell feltboard stories at the very beginning of last year.

So I’m kind of starting all over with these early plans.  Reselecting books to use and recommend (I’d made some lousy choices early last year), redoing felt pieces, rewriting the handouts that each child receives at the end of the storytime.  Granted, I’m much more experienced with the whole system now, and thus am able to speed through the preparation process much more quickly, but…I had sort of thought I was done with this when school finished last June. 

If I’m honest with myself, these toddler storytime lesson plans and handouts and materials will never really be finished.  The more I do the storytimes, the better I’ll get at them, and I’ll have to tweak my resources to reflect my increased knowledge and experience.  Which isn’t a bad thing: these storytimes will only be good if I’m truly engaged in them, and I won’t be engaged if I’m just regurgitating a plan I wrote two or five or ten years earlier.  Not to forget that there are great new books being published each year that should be considered for use either as the books that I read to the group or for the quiet time reading between parents and children. 

Just like any job, it’s tempting to get settled into a rut and not put forth the effort that one did at the very beginning.  But that type of work ethic doesn’t do anything for the quality of your job performance, nor does it bring much personal satisfaction for a job well done.  So I’ve come to peace with the reworking of these toddler storytimes.  Actually, I might be enjoying the planning process more this second time around.  And now I think it might be time to make those felt pieces for that first storytime of the year, the “Babies” storytime.

Felt creations

I’ve been a little preoccupied with building up my library of felt pieces for storytime.  The three most recent highlights are:  felt pieces for Eric Hill’s Where’s Spot, which proved to be quite a challenge, but turned out very well; pieces for Robert Kalan’s Moving Day, which were a hit; and pieces for Margaret Wise Brown’s Big Red Barn, which took a looooong time to make.   All those farm animals!!!

The deeper I get into creating flannelboard stories, the more complex my creations become, and the more time I spend each weekend making them.  It’s a vicious, though rewarding, cycle, and a cycle which has taken away from my blog writing time over the past several weeks.  On the bright side, though, there are only three more storytimes left in this school year, and then my library will be complete except for a tweaking here and there.  (Though I suspect my tweakings will be time-consuming, too, since my standards are a lot higher now than they were in September when I began this project.  Sigh.)

A felt moment

I bought a huge stack of felt rectangles at the West Concord 5 & 10 on Saturday (39 of them, at 39 cents each), and as the cashier checked me out he asked if I needed a bag.  “No,” I said, “that’s ok – I can carry them this way.  You guys are the only ones in town who carry felt anyway, right?”

“I wouldn’t know,” the cashier replied, “I don’t buy felt.”

I guess buying 39 rectangles of felt is a bit odd.