| Never too old for baby-sitter’s club (9/04) | | Print | |
| Written by Connie Chung | ||
|
Children’s books influence our lives. Shel Silverstein, Goosebumps, Animorphs, Sweet Valley High, I’ve read them, and I’ve liked them, but none of them influenced my life the way the Baby-Sitter’s Club books did. I was six when I first read the Baby-Sitter’s Club Mystery #1: Stacey and the Missing Ring. There I met Kristy, the bossy tomboy, Claudia, the artistic sugar-addict, Mary Anne, the shy girl with the cute boyfriend, and Stacey, the New York sophisticate. Slowly, as new characters were added in the books to follow, I became obsessed with learning about their lives. At age six, I knew they weren’t real people, but they were still my friends. I learned lots of life lessons from this series. Friendship, responsibility, perseverance and organization were values each of the girls had, and all things I wanted to emulate. If I bought a book, to me, it was a big deal. I wanted to make the most of each purchase. I read each book at least 10 times in great detail. Nothing could help the syntax of a six or seven year old more. I attribute every high score on standardized tests or vocabulary tests in elementary school to these books.
Occasionally a tantrum ensued when I couldn’t have a book. Sure, I asked for a Barbie doll every once in a while. But with Barbie, you needed to buy the little red convertible, the Ken doll, the little sister and the play kitchen. Barbie didn’t come with full storylines. And more importantly, Barbie was never truly my friend. For the past few years I’ve been baby-sitting for kids myself, and even though it’s been years since I’ve a read Baby-Sitter’s Club book, the tips are still in my head. Ask where the parents will be. Ask about allergies. Engage the child. And the most important rule – don’t just sit there and watch TV. You need to make up games, draw pictures, interact. But believe it or not, there was a downside to being completely in love with these books; I adamantly refused to read any other books. When my sister volunteered at the West Portal Branch Library, I would present her with a list of the few Baby Sitters Club books I had yet to read. Sensing that I was due for a change, she came back with a couple of Mrs. Piggle Wiggle books, and a Cam Jansen or two. I pouted, but eventually I read them, liked them, and became a little more open minded. That said, each time I entered a bookstore, I still headed to the Baby-Sitter’s Club section. Sadly, I eventually went through an “I’m too cool for these books” stage. Looking back, I’m disappointed. Not only were the books awesome, but that was when Ann M. Martin published the series finale. By this time, the Baby-Sitter’s Club had gone through a major makeover, they were the “BSC: Friends Forever” series, and in the last book they were, gasp, graduating from the eighth grade. Still in my “too-cool” stage, I picked up the last book, read the back cover and put it down, probably for something more “cool.” I figured I’d outgrown them. When I began writing this column, I went to Borders and looked for the books. They weren’t there. I couldn’t help but be upset. Six or almost 16, I don’t think I’ll ever really outgrow the Baby Sitter’s Club. |
||
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
to listen.
