A Beloved Children’s Book (That You’ll Never Find on my Bookshelf!)

I love children’s books. Even before I had kids, I loved reading to my nieces and nephews and kept a mental list of all the books I would want to add to my child’s collection one day. I always find myself lost in the children’s book section at Barnes and Noble (my favorite B&N location in Kansas City is on The Plaza) and I really love finding local, independently-owned children’s book stores (like Reading Reptile in Brookside) whenever I visit new cities. Thanks to the generosity of friends and family (and mama’s credit card), my one-year-old daughter has already amassed quite the collection of books, including our current favorites: On The Night You Were Born, What Makes a Rainbow, The Little Blue Truck (and the sequel!), and Dancing Feet. I can’t wait to get her started on Fancy Nancy in a couple of years, too! There is, however, one book in particular that you will never find on my bookshelf …

I would like to present Exhibit A for discussion:

I read this book “pre-kids” at a friend’s baby shower. She received it as a gift, and upon opening it, burst into tears. I guess she already knew the story. The other moms knowingly smiled and nodded, hands over their hearts, as if sharing her tearful sentiments. As the gifts were passed around the room, I held on to this one so I could give it a quick read. As my friend was wiping away tears and choking out a “thank you” to the gift-giver, I was laughing hysterically under my breath, shedding a few tears of a different kind! One of the older ladies next to me looked annoyed, leaned over and quietly said, “when you have kids of your own, you’ll understand.”

A few years later, I have a child of my own, and I still don’t get it. This book should have a subtitle:

Love You Forever: Making pregnant and postpartum hormonal women cry buckets of unreasonable tears since 1986

or perhaps

Love You Forever: Learn all about a new sleep training method that really works! It’s called “creepin’.”

Ladies: Pull yourselves together … take a minute to work through your hormonal outbursts, and snap out of it! This is quite possibly one of the worst children’s books ever written. Let me explain …

If you’re not familiar with this story, let me paraphrase it for you: A mom has a new baby boy. She rocks him to sleep while singing him a special song (aww, sweet). The son grows to be a toddler. He annoys mama sometimes, but at the end of the day, she still rocks him while he sleeps, singing her special song (I find myself wondering how on earth she manages to pick up a sleeping toddler without waking him, but still, aww). Then the son grows to be a boy, a teenager, and finally, a man. At each step of the way, mama is still watching her son as he sleeps, rocking him, and singing to him … even as a grown man! (Okay, seriously …) Eventually, mama kicks the bucket while the son is holding her and singing the song (I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried). Then, the son goes home to his newborn baby daughter, watches her while she sleeps, picks her up, and sings her the song his mama sang to him … you know, like some sort of “circle of life” concept (or something…). I’ll bet he’s still creepin’ on her when she’s sixteen … anyway, the book ends (thank God) and the readers are left with a lump in their throats … or in my case, tears of laughter streaming down my face.

What this mama does to her son in this book can only be considered one thing: stalking. A few other phrases that come to mind are invasion of privacy, breaking and entering, attachment disorder, and flat. out. creepy! 

Case in point – I give you some of my favorite illustrations from the book:

This mama’s so crazy, she got up in the middle of the night, strapped a step ladder to the roof of the family sedan, drove across town to her son’s house, and proceeded to climb into the second-story window of his bedroom. Why? You guessed it: so she could pick him up, rock him, and sing to him! Seriously. He must have been a heavy sleeper or something, because if I were asleep and my mom did that to me, I would probably mistake her for an intruder and punch her in the face. Does anyone else think mama cray-cray needs counseling? Or perhaps jail time?

I would also like to point out that the family cat, who appears on nearly every page, is either pictured dead or trying to end its miserable life …

… and that the illustrations also indicate that the son has a history of drinking, probably as a result of trying to suppress memories of his creepster mama:

So let’s hear it, friends: Is this book already tagged for your next garage sale, ready to find its way into the hands of another unsuspecting, hormonal mama? Or, has it managed to tug on your heartstrings enough to become a bedtime favorite? If it’s the latter, I feel sorry for your kids. 😉 What other “beloved” children’s books drive you crazy? Let us hear about it!