Judy's got it

My oldest kids -- Joey, Tanner, and my stepdaughter Marysa -- now all read above their grade level. Like, waaay above their grade level. In fact, Tanner's teacher won't give her more difficult books, because they're too "adult." Whatever. So Tanner reads my motivational books, titles like "The Magic of Thinking Big." Pure cheese, I admit, but totally sex- and violence-free.

It's my own fault. I started to read when I was three, and I held off teaching Tanner... but only until she was four. Marysa was close behind. And both of them taught Joey, who's now in the zillion-page reader club at school, or some such uber-literary nonsense.

Yes, I'm very proud.

So I'm in Bay Books, looking for chapter books -- because it's now all about chapter books with these kids -- and I come across a copy of "Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing." Suddenly I'm towel-whipped by nostalgia, along with the notion that Judy Blume is, without a doubt, one of the greatest Americans who ever lived.

I have to admit my initial exposure to Judy Blume sent me into prepubescent male giggle-fits. Looking back, though, "Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret" was probably my first exposure to feminism and the idea that girls actually didn't have the world on a string. Seems hokey to say that, but feels true.

"Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing" was more up my alley. I didn't have a crazy two-year-old brother named Fudge, but I did have a younger sister who stole all the attention and drove me nuts with Oscar-worthy crying performances and the repeated theft of my Cleveland Browns football helmet.

I'm super-stoked that Tanner and Joey are enjoying this book on their own and finding it particularly relevant, since they actually have a two-year-old brother/monster on their hands who's not so unlike Fudge. I'm also stoked there's still much more Judy Blume where that came from.