What to Read to Your Kids

After sleeping on different beds, bunks, or floors for most of August, one of my kids was desperate to get back on a routine (barely holding it together, if we’re being honest) and the other would have gladly accepted an invitation to extend her Bohemian lifestyle. Still, regardless of age or temperament, one thing’s for sure: neither will be exempt from the back-to-school meltdowns. I’m talking complaints about the lunch they packed themselves (are we really still talking about mushy grapes?), falling to the floor when they’re reminded (again) to set the table, and accusations that nothing I say or do is right, especially if it relates to getting a good night’s sleep or finding a quiet space to do homework or daring to suggest they reconsider their jeans and hoodie since it’s 98 degrees. As I’m typing this, one is raging about the absence of graph paper and can I order it RIGHT NOW.

You might remember that in our house, thanks to Jory John and Lane Smith, we refer to these gripes as Penguin Problems.

The magical solution to back-to-school meltdowns? There is none, of course. We can delude ourselves that the perfect snack or perfectly-timed bath will stave off implosion, but we’re not fooling our kids. Short of a complete ban on speaking or making eye contact, about the only thing that approximates a balm for a back-to-school meltdown is to pull out a book…or two. Our children want us, but they do not want our questions about their day. Our children’s bodies are depleted, but they do not want suggestions for how to refuel. But nestling into our side (yes, even in 98 degrees) and listening to our voice, knowing they’re getting our full selves in that moment without any demands on them? That they can do. That’s the reset.

Usually. Sometimes.

And if those books can simultaneously validate that our children’s world has just been turned upside down, that instead of running around like feral beings they have to sit their bums in a chair and USE AN ACTUAL PENCIL, even better. Which is why, today, I’m showcasing two picture books with fantastic social-emotional content. One directly addresses school drop-off separation, while the other talks about the woes of nothing, not one single thing, going right across a school day. Both of them aren’t quick to offer fixes; rather, their power lies in the way they normalize and empathize, while also reassuring the listener that these feelings will pass.

As a bonus, both books are illustrated by one of my favorites, Hyewon Yum, whose whimsical, warm-toned pencil drawings never fail to bring a smile to my face, even (and especially) as she nails the different stages of a meltdown.

How does that saying go? If you can’t beat ‘em, you might as well laugh at ‘em? (Something like that.)