AT THE KID TABLE Rachel Michelle Wilson

Oh hi there!
I hope you’ve had a lovely week. I’m happy to tell you that after our bat encounter, we’ve officially finished the full rabies treatment plan (a series of four different vaccine sessions). All that’s left is the bill (dun dun dun).
But I don’t want to think about that right now, so let’s get to the kid table vibe of the week and learn some things from the great Arnold Lobel instead.
Note: You can listen to this newsletter as a podcast above or read it below.
The kid table vibe of the week: Overenthusiasm
I’ve always been a little…overenthusiastic. Like I genuinely get so excited about so many things that sometimes I overwhelm myself. (I say this knowing just how ridiculous it sounds haha).
For example, in middle school, I received an assignment to write an advertisement that we would eventually record for a real radio show. It was a group project, and my brain came alive with the unlimited creative possibilities. We even had the space to be FUNNY which is my favorite place to play.
Well, let’s just say my classmates had no idea what to do with someone who actually cared and even (gasp!) enjoyed doing the assignment. If the definition of cool is apathetic (which it usually is), I was a hot potato in a sea of ice cubes.
Now that I’ve given you just a glimpse into my own weirdness, you can probably imagine what I’m like at a couch store. Yeah?
Okay, so picture my overenthusiastic self at a couch store.
Sitting on everything. Touching all the fabric samples. Saying “ooh,” “aww,” and “I love it,” every few minutes. And after many couch store visits, Aaron and I had finally found the one.
The salesperson who helped us was very nice (like we were having so much fun that she offered us Mexican food in the back room where the employees hang out because they were celebrating something that day haha). And BONUS: we knew it wasn’t gross salesman nice because we had already decided on the couch before talking with her.
As we were finalizing everything and signing paperwork and all that, she shared how she was also a writer — a screenwriter actually — and had done some stuff in LA before she settled in Washington with her family. We chatted about her background and geeked out over writer stuff and, before I knew it, I felt so excited about her writer dreams that when she reached out to shake hands in congratulations for our new couch, I grabbed her entire arm.
YES, I OVER-ENTHUSIASTICALLY GRABBED HER ENTIRE ARM, YOU GUYS.
We both looked down in shock. Me at the strangest handshake I have ever given. And her for obvious reasons.
I had no idea what to say, so what I said was, “Oh sorry, this kinda felt like a hug moment, and so I guess my handshake turned into an arm hug?”
Thank goodness she laughed and was cool about it, but my face still turns bright red when I think about the moment my enthusiasm took over my body and gave a complete stranger an arm hug.
So yeah, that’s how I am at a couch store.
The big green button would never do something so embarrassing.

This week at my desk…
I’m working on my second picture book. Somehow I painted the most perfect pile of leaves, and I’m afraid I will never make anything else look this good!
I’ve also been visiting bookstores to plan my debut book shenanigans (more on that as things get finalized).
This week AT THE KID TABLE, we’re sitting with Arnold Lobel!
You probably know him because of the award-winning Frog and Toad series — some of the greatest stories of all time. What I love about Lobel is that within an atmosphere of gentleness, he explores the complicated — and sometimes downright terrifying — and he even leaves you there sometimes. But always with a sense of safety.
Like in “Alone,” Frog takes alone time and Toad is terrified he did something wrong; the resolution of that story feels satisfying without diminishing the experiences or emotions of either character which is SO HARD TO DO.
Or

Oh hi there!
How are you? I hope your week was a little more normal than mine because have I got a doozy of a kid table vibe for you. Let’s just get right into it (and follow it with the amazing things I learned from the great Judy Blume).
The kid table vibe of the week is…
Note: You can listen to this entire newsletter as a podcast above or read it below.
A bat in the cave (a.k.a. my bedroom)
When sitting at the kid table, this phrase is either a joke you play on a friend or a seriously embarrassing realization or, for that one kid, a fully embraced situation. But for Aaron and me last weekend, this phrase took on new meaning.
The discovery
In the middle of the night on Saturday, we awoke to a fluttering sound. We thought, “Maybe it is something on our roof. Nah, it sounds closer. Maybe the attic.”
But as my eyes adjusted, I could see the culprit of the noise: an erratic shadow darting above my head.
Oh no.
We had a bat in the cave (A.K.A. our bedroom).
The reaction
So I did what anyone would do in that situation…hid myself way down deep under the covers. (Is there anything more kid table than that?)
Half-asleep Aaron stumbled out of bed barely registering me saying “bat” until he turned on the lights and yelped, “BAT!” With only a pillow in his hand to protect him, he dodged into the bathroom so he could better assess the situation. I didn’t see any of this because I was too scared to peek my head out. All I could get myself to do was call my dog to hide with me under the covers.
Eventually the bat found a good resting spot on our curtains, and I found the courage somewhere deep within me to sneak past him and escape.
The team (or lack of one)
We read that if you wake up to a bat in your room, you are supposed to get someone to check for rabies. So we called animal control who told us they’d call us back soon. As we waited, we drifted in and out of sleep to bat nightmares until, six hours later—yes six—they finally called us back.
We told the guy the situation and he said, “Why didn’t you let him out the window? Because it is light outside now, that’s going to be really hard for you.”
I was speechless. He continued, “We could come take care of it for you. Our weekend rates are double, so $600.”
I replied, “I’ll call you back” and hung up.
The extraction
Covered in raincoats and hoodies and armed with a large plastic container, we snuck the window open behind the bat, gave him a gentle nudge, and with a terrifying last attempt to fly at our faces behind the plastic container, he flew outside.
And then…
I never called the guy back. Because revenge.
The aftermath
It turns out when you wake up to a bat in the room, you don’t REALLY know if you’ve been bitten or scratched which means you don’t REALLY know if you have rabies which has a 100% death rate if not treated.
So…you have to get an intense series of rabies shots.
When we got to the emergency room to receive them, they said, “It’s too bad you didn’t have animal control come by to catch and test the bat for rabies. Would have saved you a lot of time.”
…
All I can say is, I am in awe of the nonsense that is life sometimes. I don’t have any wisdom to depart after this experience, but I feel like a changed person.
I am vengeance.
I am the night.
I am Batman.
This week at my desk…
I outlined a marketing plan to take over the world with my debut book (suddenly evil laughs have become the theme of this newsletter) and finished a color study dummy for my second picture book (I’m so excited about it!).
Speaking of the debut, I just realized there is a batman reference in there! (Gotta keep the newsletter theme going, right?) Wanna see?
This week AT THE KID TABLE, we’re sitting with children’s book author Judy Blume!
You probably know her for the famous Are You There GOD, It’s Me Margaret which was made into an excellent movie (seriously, I watched it twice and Blume herself said it

Oh hi there!
This month, I hope you’ve been marching to the beat of your own drum with a hint of madness. So far my March has been filled with exciting art style epiphanies for my second picture book, a gal pal party, some Jason Reynolds inspiration, and kid table vibes like…
Note: You can listen to this entire newsletter as a podcast or read it below.
Saying the wrong thing at the wrong time
Many a kid table squabble was started by someone putting their foot in their mouth. Recently we had a guy come over to give us an estimate for gutter protectors and oh boy did he put his big foot in his big mouth.
In the end, HE was the one needing the gut-ter check. Buh dum psh.
(Like I always say, you get what you pay for here at the kid table.)
Let’s set the scene…
I was in the groove working on that second picture book, so like the amazing wife I am, I sent Aaron in alone to answer the door and talk to this man.
Luckily I could hear every word from my office perch upstairs.
INT. Our house — Day
The man looks at our gutters, then sits down with Aaron. Tells him a bunch of gutter stuff using a bunch of gutter jargon. And then..
MAN: So what do YOU think a good price for this would be?
AARON (awkwardly): Umm…I don’t know.
MAN: No really.
AARON: Okay, a couple thousand I guess.
MAN: Oh uh, well actually it’s $10,000 but I can get you a good discount. Right now it is 30% off. But you’d have to tell me before 9PM tonight. (Says some more jargon).
AARON: Okay, I’ll talk to my wife and let you know.
MAN: What do you think she’ll say?
AARON: Maybe?
MAN: How long you been married?
AARON: Almost seven years.
MAN stares at Aaron for an uncomfortably long time.
MAN: Well, it’s about that time.
AARON: Time for what?
MAN: You know, most marriages only last about five to seven years. I told my ex-wife, “I gave you seven good years.”
MAN chuckles like there was an actual joke somewhere in there.
AARON: Uh…
MAN: So yeah, that 20% discount should set you up nicely. Only as long as you tell me by 8PM.
Aaron tries many tactics to get MAN out the door as his wife laughs upstairs.
END SCENE
Okay, so I know one of my recent posts was all about lying for a living, but I DIDN’T MAKE ANY OF THIS UP! Needless to say, when the guy called us that night at 7:30PM, we didn’t answer.
Last week I got to sit at the kid table in person with two of my favorite gal pals.
If you’ve been following this newsletter for a bit, you’ll know that I’ve opened up a lot more to female friendships in the last few years. I was a bit wounded due to a few damaging female relationships and closed up my lil’ heart. Then, after some therapy and soul-searching and a rediscovery of my love for children’s books, I started to meet kindred spirits who made it feel easy to open up again.
I got to see two of them last week, and their celebration of each other as creators and people was beautiful to witness. The talented author and community builder Natasha Tripplett has a debut THE BLUE PICKUP that just came out (buy it here!). The nurturing, bright, pun-loving Martha Brockenbrough interviewed Natasha with her personal touch (buy her books here!).
Powerhouse books made by powerhouse women. Happy Women’s History Month!
This week I’m sitting at the table with author Jason Reynolds.
You may have heard of this Newbery Honor winning, New York Times best-selling author for his books like Look Both Ways, All American Boys, and Long Way Down. Or maybe his incredible service as the National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature. Or maybe even his famous late night show appearances on Stephen Colbert, Trevor Noah, Jimmy Fallon, and more (I included some links so you can hear him talk about anxiety as a super power, his craft, book banning, and the cool car he drives).
But you may NOT know that he read his first novel at age 17, that he loved writing before reading due to Queen Latifah, that he did a podcast on Radiotopia with his

Oh hi there!
How is your February going? You know, I thought February would feel less sloggy than January, but I’ve struggled all month to do basic things like eat and sleep.
It is times like these that I need to remind myself to take life a little less seriously and enjoy the small moments which brings me to the kid table vibe of the week…
Note: You can listen to this entire newsletter as a podcast or read it below.
Things that sound made up but aren’t!
Have you ever heard of Restless Leg Syndrome?
It sounds so fake — I wish it was —but it is very real.
Unfortunately I have the genes for RLS which means I often can’t fall asleep until three in the morning. Womp womp.
I like to imagine back in the olden days (before 1995 when the diagnosis became official) when my ancestors were trying to describe what was happening to them and nobody believed them because it sounds absolutely ridiculous:
* “My leg just feels like it has to move all the time right when I’m about to fall asleep. Like it has a mind of its own.”
* “It hurts but not like a normal pain. Like an irritating pain on the inside of my leg and the bottom of my foot.”
* “One time I was on a flight and I had to take my shoes off because they were making my feet feel claustrophobic and my leg feel jumpy. Also I wanted to take my pants off because that helps it feel better but I didn’t.”
I mean imagine how that last one would go…
So yeah, that’s how it feels and lately it has been really bad.
(I see you playing your tiny violin.)
And yes, like my ancestors before me, I have to take my pajama pants off because they are making my legs feel jumpy.
(I see you abruptly stop playing your tiny violin, unsubscribe from this newsletter, and leave the room.)
All this to say, you can blame the lack of sleep for this absolutely unhinged newsletter.
The big green button wants to make it clear that it had nothing to do with this and has no further comment.

Anyway, thanks for the space to chuckle about it.
On a hopeful note, after not being able to fall asleep until seven in the morning (it sucked), I finally tried melatonin again which hadn’t worked AT ALL for me as a teenager but actually helped this time! It’s a February miracle! I feel like a new person.
This week at my desk…
I got to review the proofs for my debut picture book HOW TO PEE YOUR PANTS (THE RIGHT WAY), and they look so good. Thanks to all those who have celebrated this book with me so far; some of you have even preordered copies already which means the world to me (and actually helps me look good to my publisher hee hee).
This week AT THE KID TABLE, we’re sitting with children’s book author Margaret Wise Brown!
But before we dive into that, I just wanted to let you know that though I’ve appreciated all that I learned from the SUPER thorough studies of children’s book creators, they’ve taken a lot out of me.
So I’m simplifying just a bit.
Instead of collecting a million things, I’ll just focus on 3-5 things I’ve learned which will reduce the podcast episodes to about 10 minutes — a quick dose of kid table vibes and creative inspiration.
I’m a bit nervous about this shift as those long posts were my most popular and most shared. But I hope you will also like the more bitesize version, especially because I know you are busy and reading the long posts is quite the commitment.
Onto learning from the great Margaret Wise Brown!
You probably know Margaret Wise Brown for Goodnight Moon and The Runaway Bunny, but you may not know that she had a well-known feud with famous children’s librarian Anne Carroll Moore (who actually hated Goodnight Moon) or that she was heavily influenced by Gertrude Stein (whom she later helped publish a children’s book called The World is Round) or that she was engaged to a Rockefeller when she tragically passed away at the early age of 42.
She is one of the most intriguing people in children’s books, and I can’t wa

Oh hi there!
I just want to say thanks for all the support you showed me for the HOW TO PEE YOUR PANTS (THE RIGHT WAY) cover reveal last week. Today I’m revealing the answers to the two truths and a lie poll and sharing my super embarrassing pee pants story!
The big green button has never peed its pants but it has done a lot of empathy work so I know it is there for me.

That time I peed my pants (one of the most kid table vibes there is)
Alright so last week I told you all about my debut cover and outlined the process of making it and we played two truths and a lie. Wanna see how you did?
Here are the options:
* Bertie the bird’s glasses were based on the glasses I wore as a kid.
* I peed my pants in the middle of class in first grade.
* After I peed my pants, I had to wait in the office for my mom to bring me clean clothes and, before I could sit down, the office lady bubble-wrapped the chair.
TRUE: Bertie the bird’s glasses were based on the glasses I wore as a kid.
This is me.
This is the cover.
You wanna know the crazy thing? It was completely subconscious. Only when a critique partner said after seeing my kid photo, “Oh, now I understand why you put glasses on your characters” did I see it.
One of those moments when a dear friend understands you more than you understand yourself.
FALSE: I peed my pants in the middle of class in first grade.
Keep reading to see where…
TRUE: After I peed my pants, I had to wait in the office for my mom to bring me clean clothes and, before I could sit down, the office lady bubble-wrapped the chair.
And now for the SUPER EMBARRASSING pee my pants story to set the record straight.
THE MOMENT
It was first grade and I was an expert bladder controller. (Basically I had the equivalent expertise of air traffic controllers but with controlling my bladder.) This was because I was terrified that if I went to the bathroom during lunch, I wouldn’t be able to find my friends since the playground was so big.
So I would hold it. And hold it.
I was very good at holding it.
Hi, this is psychologist Rachel coming in to analyze things in the middle of a story because I can’t shut my brain off.
Did you catch the glaring abandonment issues here? Yes, they would take years of therapy to unravel, but I wanted to come in and ease your mind that NOW Rachel can successfully walk through a playground alone. Though she doesn’t do it often just in case it looks creepy. Okay, let’s continue.
Even the best bladder traffic controllers are human.
Unfortunately my moment arrived during recess when I was standing in a circle of friends. It was basically set up like a Shakespeare play at the globe theater — every seat in the house had a great view to the show. And the show was me.
I still remember the moment the dam broke.
I audibly said, “Uh. Oh.” — like I was in slow motion — emphasizing each syllable so that those who might have been looking at the sky or observing a bird on a tree wouldn’t miss the big event.
I remember mouths dropping open.
I remember the sound of the whistle to line up after recess.
I remember being afraid everyone would see as I lined up.
Somehow I had the sense to sneak away to the front office to call my mom. Because she worked full-time, I needed to wait for some clean clothes.
As I started sitting down on the office chair, I heard, “NOOO! STOP!”
It felt like a gust of winter wind had frozen my wet pants into place.
I watched in shame as the office lady pulled out a large roll of bubble wrap. She wrapped the chair many times, secured it with tape, and then said, “NOW you can sit.”
Alright, that’s it. I’m just going to leave you there with those emotions;)
“Umm…hi, this is psychologist Rachel interrupting yet again to say that Rachel doesn’t really like things left unresolved, often to a fault, so she would never ‘leave you hanging’ as the kids say.”
Ugh, get out of here psychologist Rachel!
But yeah, she’s right.
It

Oh hi there!
Thank you so much for opening this newsletter today because I’m sharing something very dear to my heart: MY DEBUT COVER REVEAL! If you will permit me to make this an “experience,” we’re going to start with an appetizer that gradually builds to the BIG REVEAL main course. And finish with a lil’ behind-the-scenes dessert. Sound good?
Let’s get this feast going!
Note: You can listen to this as a podcast episode (with a bit of additional commentary) or read it as a newsletter below.
An appetizer of kid table vibes
Doing something just for fun. No productivity allowed!
Aaron and I have been watching the show Taskmaster thanks to a rec by the lovely and talented . This show is so “kid table” at heart, and I’m OBSESSED with it. We’ve been watching the British one in which the “mean,” hard-to-please Taskmaster (Greg Davies) judges five contestants (often comedians) as they complete meaningless tasks prepared by the Taskmaster’s Assistant (Alex Horne). It is absurd and hilarious and creative—basically everything my inner child loves.
Telling truth and lies
One of the show’s contestants was James Acaster who has a comedy special on Netflix called Repertoire; of course, I had to watch it. In four episodes, James plays a lot with truth and lies. Like he builds the first episode on the idea that he is an undercover cop posing as a comedian (which is hilarious for so many reasons including the fact that as he talks about his life, like comedians often do, he endangers the entire operation). I chuckled as I watched because 1) he is hilarious and 2) I’m tickled that people actually tell lies for a living.
In fact…I lie for a living. Even better, I lie TO KIDS for a living. What a job. What a life!
The big green green button is wondering where I’m going with this.

Shall we make this even weirder? Let’s.
I also tell the truth for a living. WHHHAAAAATTTT?
Little kid me would be super confused. She was taught that lying was always bad and that you should always tell the truth. So lying can’t ever be good, can it? Lies and truth can’t exist at the same time, can they?
Reading fiction: the best kind of lie
I’ve loved fiction since the moment I popped out of my mom. My first word was “book.” My grandma always told the story of me pointing to a book for her to read, then we’d finish, and I’d point to another—one by one until we finished all the books we owned.
When I watched James’s special —the way he played with truth and lies— I realized one big reason why I love fiction so much. Yes, it is entertaining. And interesting. And fun. And it allows me to explore people and places and things and ideas. But it also offers clear boundaries and expectations.
Being in on the lie
Ah, boundaries. I love ‘em. Crave ‘em. Probably because I didn’t grow up with a lot of ‘em. People would say one thing and do another. Lots of half-truths. Lots of confusing emotions. So where did I go for comfort? Fiction.
In fiction, I was in on the lie. There was an expectation right off the bat. You are entering a fake world — a lie of sorts — but a purposeful one. A thoughtful one. Even a fun one. You could enter it and leave it whenever you wanted to. There would be structure. There would be expectations created and fulfilled. And ultimately there would be lots of emotional truth to gather along the way that would leave me feeling understood and valued.
When I opened a book, this very natural dialogue would happen under the surface:
Storyteller: Hey, I want to explore an interesting emotion or idea and I think the best way to do it would be through a lie. Would you be alright with that?
Me: Yeah, normally I really hate lies because they leave me feeling powerless. But somehow you letting me know beforehand makes it feel empowering instead. Like I’m in on it. And because you are being upfront about it, I’m trusting that you’ll offer me a purposeful experience.
Storyteller: