much gratitude for a silly chicken and a cuddly dog

Earlier this week I had the exciting opportunity to shadow a storytime in a completely different library system.  The youth librarian was passionate about her job and very zany.

She plopped down next to a giant fabric tree in the middle of the youth area and started singing.  No slide show, no explanation, and the kids instantly settled down and sang with her.  After two songs, she dug around in her bag of books (great suspense I might add) and pulled out her first book.  Thus began a very organic, laid-back approach to storytime I simply haven't seen before.

At one point, after asking for song suggestions, she opted to have a child teach her a dinosaur version of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star."

My favorite thing about her storytime was just how incredibly interactive her stories were.  During one book she began telling her own story and ignored the words.  I found out later that she did this because she was losing their attention.

It went very smoothly and I walked away completely inspired, ready to give my next storytime with fresh perspective.

The moment the toddlers entered the room for my storytime I knew something was different.  They were distracted, antsy, and acting even sillier than normal.

I knew instantly that it was a terrible day to bring out musical instruments and sing songs that required focus and attention.

But that's exactly what I had planned for the storytime.

It was total chaos.  We actually quit singing one of the songs about halfway through because everyone was acting so noisy and crazy that nothing could be heard.  

And well, the second song with the musical instruments was pretty much a disaster as well.  

After storytime, for the first time since my storytime journey began, a parent criticized me in a demeaning way (thankfully not a parent who regularly attends), and to my horror, other parents saw that moment to jump in and criticize me as well (sadly, some were regulars).  

I was very polite.  I said thank you, packed up the toys and musical instruments, cleaned and put everything away.  And then I sat in the office, took several deep breaths (and tried not to cry), and got to work.  I thought about solutions, investigated a few things the parents mentioned, and picked out brand new material and songs for my next storytime.  I thought long and hard about the feedback and criticism given, and gleaned as much constructive feedback as possible.  Then I took all the negative bits home with me and told Ella about it and cuddled with her for a long time.  And now, poof, it's all gone.  I'm ready to move on.

I'm new and still inexperienced.  But I am passionate about storytimes.  The difference between myself and the storytime greats, such as the lovely lady I shadowed earlier this week, is experience, lots and lots of experience.  

On another positive note, not a single toddler cried or became upset during storytime (not sure if this has happened before).  I'm pretty sure they were having such a grand time they didn't even realize my adult brain was sounding the disaster alarms.  Also, one of my books, A Hat for Minerva Louise, was a hit.  Thank you, Minerva Louise, you silly chicken.

Next week is a new storytime filled with possibility and exciting songs and books about the ocean.