Back...and not continuing this as a sappy journal about my son, but for what I intended: in keeping a child development blog based off of what I learn from my boy and those I teach.

I just couldn't close this window without linking to it, lest I forget. At first glance, Where the Wild Things Are, isn't much of a story. I mean half of it is a palindrome of lines...so it's only 1/2 original material, right? I always thought it had great animation....though kind of old school with the cross hatching, which I thought was weird when I was little. Why didn't everyone strive to have the boldest drawings with the latest technology? Well, baby Lisa, that is because you'd only been alive 4 years and this book was written well before you. I remember a car trip with my mom, there was a cool song I had never heard before. So after rocking out to it, I asked my mom who wrote that new music.
"Roy Orbison. He's dead."
"But that's a new song."
"No it's not."
"But I've never heard it before..." I realized there was a time before me. Whoa.

I've been going on and on to my husband how Maurice Sendak came to our school when I was a kid. I realized Max, the character in the book looked a bit like how I imagine Sendak looked as a kid. We had an assembly where he told stories and drew the illustrations for them as he went along. It was one of the best assemblies ever- I mean I remember it now 20-25 years later.

I am so happy to have found him through the eyes of myself as a parent and those of my boy. We have the book and the movie, My boy loves them both, but often tires of the movie at 2.5 years old. The book however, has him enthralled every time. The best part, especially after a terrible twos type of day, is that I can read it and totally vent my frustrations with the boy on Max. My guy agrees with me, Max Shouldn't chase the dog around the house with a fork...he hasn't made that transition to include himself and our cat and not doing the same in our house, yet. My favorite part is the picture book inside the words (although the words are just so poetic)...where we all get to read with monster roars and gnash our monster teeth. Everyone needs a good monster roar from time to time to clear the air. It returns all our sanity at the end of the day...magical. I think I finally got what was intended in this story, it only took 30 years.

I wish I had remembered that Sendak was in CT and I thought to write him. It's important to let those who have touched know they have done so. I'm impressed he could do it in a children's book for me as an adult.

RIP Maurice Sendak.