We’ve read some crazy, trippy stories to our children, full of talking hippos flying to the moon in a bathtub, and they absorb the fantasy like they saw it themselves just that morning. But this book has them blinking in confused silence and trying hard to conceive of a time that they didn’t exist, or even just existed in a lesser capacity. This bright and cheerful book lists the wonderful experiences and abilities that are encountered and mastered in the first years of life. It is a happy reminder of the extraordinary development our children, all beautifully illustrated with a distinctive paper collage style that recalls its Portugese heritage. The perfect book for celebrating the little things.

An illustrated book that conversely relies on its words to be the characters. The cats, dogs, and birds are not drawn but depicted by the words that describe their sounds, and cleverly nestled in simple graphic illustrations. It is certainly a little abstract for the child that can’t yet read but it’s a nice way to explore the relationships between words, sounds and images. There is no hiding the origins of this book (originally published as Ouaf Miaou Cui Cui, 2009): the text is a little direct and a dog nonchalantly pees a large yellow puddle against a wall — so French! The perfect book for having fun with sounds.

A funny little take on the other, more well known, reindeer story starring Rudolph — and this is the one I prefer. Olive is a charming character, brave and strong with an optimistic naivety, just like a real dog. The title, and premise, for the book is a misheard lyric. A crazy idea, but you wouldn’t expect anything less from the winning team of Seibold and Walsh. The illustrations are graphically strong with a signature palette of rich orange, mustard, olive green and pale blue — all bedecked with the flourishes that so suit a Christmas tale. The perfect book for Santa’s little helpers.

Another porcine book series with a Christmas special. This book has a heart-warming and happy ending but not before unflinchingly touring some more desperate places. Perhaps it seems unusual now because the book is more than 30 years old, and German, or is Ungerer’s sharp social commentary unexpected? Either way, this is a book to be read to children at Christmas time — it makes for a welcome foil against Santa et al, with all the cheer and spirit of Christmas. The pen and ink illustrations are simple, satirical, with just a touch of whimsy. Beautiful. The perfect book for sharing the spirit of Christmas.

There is something lovely about hearing how other people celebrate Christmas. Family traditions and routines that are particular or peculiar, or even so familiar that they bring memories of our own Christmases past. In this festive red book — one in a series of eleven Olivia books — Falconer tones down Olivia’s usual antics and fills the spaces with charming family vignettes, making for a wonderful family Christmas tale. The illustrations are in the style of the rest in the series: charcoal and gouache drawings with collage used to great effect. Falconer won the Illustrator of the Year in the Children’s Choice Book Awards for this title. The perfect book for Olivia fans at Christmas time.

This is a very simple (and wicked) tale about what happens when you push a polite, well-mannered bear too far. It poses such a problem in deciding who is naughty and who is good — the old two-wrongs quandary. Klassen’s illustrations have a lovely, woodsy, folksy feel, with a palette of browns and a touch of angry red cleverly used. The characters appear expressionless in all but a few pages and that gives the book a very droll air that will appeal to adults — no cutesy pie here. The perfect book for moral dilemmas.

The first thing I should tell you about this book is that it is a poem, a tricky poem written in a very old form called a sestina. It stumps you on the first read through, tripping over stilted sentences, but read properly it is lilting and magical — a wonderful match for the story of a little girl who wishes she was a witch. Yoo’s linoleum block prints capture the drama of the story with a muted palette of autumn colours busy with bats, owls and black cats, but she keeps it cosy with glowing windows, smoke wafting from chimneys, and parents in pyjamas. The perfect book for little dreamers.

I remember this book from my childhood, partly for its trippy story and partly because it featured scandalous nudity (we were lucky to have this book in our school libraries un-censored, as it was — and still remains — on the list of challenged or banned books purely for that glimpse of naked boy). It reads like a comic book with a mix of speech bubbles and captions, and the way Mickey floats dream-like between the fantastical “sets” is wonderful. Children accept the story with innocence, but if you enjoy finding darker meanings you might notice Sendak taking inspiration from the Holocaust that shaped his own childhood. The perfect book for non sense.

Little Blue looks and feels like an old-fashioned folk tale. Delicate ink and watercolor illustrations and a little hero called Will who wears t-bar sandals and brandishes sticks in an adventurous way. It stands out on our bookshelf, small, cloth-bound with embossed title, amongst the bigger, louder picture books. The story is really delightful, with a very clever twist, and weaves between fantasy and reality. The perfect book for the old-fashioned child.

Seasons is a beautifully playful and witty book by the French artist and illustrator, Blexbolex. His silk-screen illustrations have a retro-inspired minimalism influenced by the whodunits of the 1950s and 60s, and abound with colour and movement. The “story” is narrated with single words or phrases and flows from page to page through the seasons. Sometimes the pairing of word and picture is a statement of the obvious, sometimes it is an oblique reference to a feeling or action. It makes for an interesting read, as small inquiring minds ask with wide eyes, “But why, Mama?”. The perfect book for watching the weather.

The story of Captain Slaughterboard and his motley crew aboard The Black Tiger is a real swashbuckling yarn full of rum, tobacco, sharpened steel, bad ink and finding your inner peace… which is nice, really. Peake has created some fearsome pirates and illustrated each with such wit and detail that you can almost smell them from the pages. The pen and ink drawings are elaborate with barnacle-encrusted flourishes and are complemented well by the hand-lettered narrative that is oh so droll. The perfect book for the little pirate.

I love Seibold’s books (it was his Penguin Dreams that first started my interest in children’s books) and this book is no disappointment. The illustrations are a fantastical merger of Seibold’s signature computer-drawn graphics with a rococo flair, all laid on spray-painted backgrounds in a Technicolor palette. And the cover has glitter! Sound too much? Noooo. Never. Not when paired with an absurd re-jig of old classic rhymes (which, let’s be honest, weren’t so solid anyway — “Hey diddle diddle the cow jumped over the moon”?). The result is gelastic, an hysterical pairing of illustration and verse. The perfect book for giggles and nonsense.

A gripping, cautionary tale set in the ruthless badlands of the domestic fish tank, Ugly Fish pulls no punches, there is no fairy-tale ending for these fish… But there is a humorous little story with some great characters and a wonderfully satisfying moral to wrap it all up. The illustrations are delightfully ugly; drawn in pen and ink then digitally coloured, presented on a matte stock. The perfect book for the little bully.

Edward Gorey was one of the most talented (and eccentric) graphic artists to emerge in post-war America, and this macabre little book is one of his finest. An A to Z of children’s names, complete with illustrations of their final moments, all narrated in rhyming dactylic couplets. The deadpan delivery gives it the feeling of a public record, and the fine cross-hatched illustrations point to the Victorian fascination with death and childhood innocence. The perfect book for anyone who ever painted their fingernails black.

A charming, heart-warming story about … death. Death in a dressing gown and slippers. And about Duck, who makes friends with this strange character, Death. The charm of the story comes from the simple pencil drawings of its awkward characters, and their honest, unhurried words. The ultimate passing of Duck is so unremarkable as to bring perspective to the business of death. A wonderful, reassuring perspective that we often lose sight of in the face of loss. “But that is life, thought Death.” The perfect book for talking about death.

This is the kind of book that your children learn off by heart, and surprise you by “reading” back to you. An encyclopaedic list of the narrator’s favourite dogs and their doggy traits, cleanly illustrated in pencil and watercolor. The simple, repetitive text quickly captures a child’s attention and the pages come alive with the bounding energy of their canine characters. The perfect book for the dog lover.

I hesitated when my daughter first chose this book from the bookcase, I just assumed the block illustrations would be too abstract for a three-year-old, and with no obvious story to capture her attention that she would soon be frustrated and turn away. I learnt a little about pre-schoolers that day — they love the abstract, they love to find patterns and familiar shapes, they love to count, and they love you to make up little stories about unseen characters traveling to unseen places. Follow the Line is a beautiful book with stylish illustrations that reveal Ljungkvist’s Swedish heritage. The perfect book for the junior explorer.