Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

Yesterday, while chopping onions for dinner, I cut my finger with my (quite sharp and large) knife. It bled enough that when I got into the shower and the water hit the bandaid/tape on my finger it looked a bit like a watered down version of “Psycho” in there. I took off my bandaid to change it just now and decided to leave it off a bit and let the skin around the cut dry, but it’s therefore unprotected and I’m typing gingerly as a result. (Of course, if I’d left it on together with the tape around the outside, my finger would probably have been too big to hit one key at a time, so there’s that.) Hence, my review of Gone Crazy in Alabama is going to be shorter than I’d planned when I finished it; on the other hand, the cut hurts less today than I was afraid it would, given that the knife cut through the top part of my fingernail.

Short version, then. Gone Crazy is the third novel about the Gaither sisters, and after each I’ve been torn between ‘that’s a solid and well-written story’ and ‘but the adults want to be so much more likable!’. Cecile is always frustrating, and in this third book her journey to Alabama and stance once she gets there clash with her maternal legacy of abandonment and complete lack of nurturing. (f one considers her background, I suppose it doesn’t NOT make sense, but as a parent and teacher, it still makes me crazy.) Pa irritates me as well, although I suppose he’s a product of his time, and Big Ma makes me nuts in a different way. As for Ma Charles and Miss Trotter, well–there’s plenty of dysfunction here to go around. I can’t really speak to whether this is an accurate picture of African-American culture and family life in the late ’60s; it may well be. (If the responsibility placed on Delphine is a product of that, than that is what it is, although that bothers me as well.) For me, the Gaither sisters trilogy is compelling but frequently frustrating and/or upsetting, especially as a parent; I’d be interested to know what its target audience thinks. As for you–you’ll have to make up your own minds about this one! And that, I’m afraid, is that; as book it probably deserves a bit more from a review, but I’m trying not to push my finger. Have a lovely afternoon!

So…my 12-year-old got braces yesterday. Only UNLIKE me or her older sister, she got a palate expander, and not only do I have to turn the thing twice a day for a week, well–her efforts to eat make her older sister’s troubles with her bumpers look like child’s play. (The 12-year-old also has bumpers, by the way.) Luckily, she seems to be doing slightly better today than last night…although while the rest of us had leftovers, she heated up a can of baked beans and blended it with the hand blender for dinner. (To be fair, there WAS last night’s soup. She like the idea of the baked beans better, and tonight I let her make that choice.)

In other news, I got my friend Britt to help me work on my belated Christmas cards today. (And by help, I mean she sat at her computer with my Facebook open and messaged person after person to see if their addresses were current, while I stamped and addressed cards and wrote “Better late than never” on the back.) As ridiculous as this might seem–it being January 27th and all–it was a huge relief, because I don’t want to lose touch with my RI friends and family, but once we started swapping beds in bedrooms the week before Christmas, any other card activity pretty much went out the window. I’m actually excited to address more tonight, since I have quite a few new FB messages!

Anyway. Lastly–because my alarm just went off to turn the thing on the palate extender and then I need to shower my 6-year-old–I finished Remy Lai’s Pawcasso this week, and I ended up enjoying it more than I thought I might. I’ve always hated the “I lied and then got caught in the lie and let it snowball rather than telling the truth” sort of plot, but the leash law conflict distracted me from that some, and it resolved rather well. The human relationships in the book aren’t fleshed out as well as the varying dog perspectives are, but that seems intentional to me. Jo’s actions also do make sense given her family and friend struggles, even if watching the consequences unfold is like watching a train wreck. MY favorite part of Pawcasso, however, is the differing but fairly represented views on dogs, their leashes (or lack thereof), and what people should and should not be able to do and expect about dogs. (It’s an issue worth exploring, because both sides have valid points.) I’d be interested to know what you think!

Today is my Dad’s 80th birthday, which feels a little crazy. It’s also my friend Kim’s birthday, my friend-who’s-now-in-heaven Lisa’s birthday, and my friend Bethanne’s birthday. Oddly enough, I don’t have any friends who share my Mom’s birthday…

Anyway. I’ve been bad about bedtimes and am DETERMINED to be better tonight, so here’s my review without further ado. You know how Rob Buyea’s “Mr. Terupt” books make you cry? And how his “Perfect” series does, too? Well–don’t expect anything different with his new standalone, What Comes Next. In it, 12-year-old Thea is still (silently) reeling from her best friend’s death; her whole family worries about her, but it isn’t until Jack-Jack the puppy makes a purposeful entrance into her life that she begins to find her way through her grief. Thea is relatable, Jack-Jack is fabulous even if (like me) you don’t actually LIKE dogs, and their journey made me laugh out loud AND cry, which is par for the course with Buyea. My 12-year-old says she wants to read it even though her classmate’s recent death made me wonder, so we’ll see how she does; you, however, should definitely check it out.

And now, to bed! Or least, to the process of going to bed…

Okay, that was an impressively long title, but that 12-year-old a)got a date for braces TODAY and b)actually found Besties: Work It Out at the library all by her lonesome. (Not that it wasn’t inevitable–she can sniff out a graphic novel from miles away, and given that Besties is from the world of (and is co-authored by the author of) Click, well…she was going to find it.) Anyway.

My girlie actually got it from the library before Christmas, but I was too busy auditioning graphic novels for her Christmas present to get to it until now. (Because I get to read things first if I want to–because I’m Mom.) I’ll be honest–I’ve read all of Kayla Miller’s Click novels and I don’t have much memory of Beth or Chanda; Besties is separate enough, however, that it didn’t matter. It was nice to read a middle grade book focusing on a solid, not-in-any-danger friendship for a change; Beth and Chanda’s sometimes poor choices made me crazy, but the book sent a message that ought to satisfy both parents and kids. For both pet lovers and readers wanting more responsibility but still sometimes making childlike choices, this should resonate; I’m expecting my 12-year-old to love it.

And by the way, if this review feels fragmented, I wrote it with my family finishing dinner in the background. There were distractions.

That seems to be my new thing, folks, and so I think I’ll embrace it for the moment! In the meantime, we just got home from my son’s second basketball game, and I am SO proud of him. His team didn’t win–in fact, they lost 24-12–but it was 11-0 before they made any points at all, and it was a beautiful thing to see them learn and adapt and improve on the court, as they were playing. I’m also a fan of his coach, who is positive and encouraging while also getting down to business and up front about what the kids need to be told (including “you need to be listening while I’m talking”, because 4th grade boys). I am NOT a fan of 8:30 in the morning games that involve him being there at 8, but they rotate–last week was 9:30 and I think next week is 10:30, so it is what it is. It was worse this morning for two reasons–the first being that my poor hubby is sick and his level of coughing just before 5 this morning meant we were BOTH wide awake then, and the second being my recent even-poorer-than-usual bedtime choices, because I am SERIOUSLY struggling in this regard.

The best thing that can be said for last night’s post-midnight bedtime, perhaps, is that I stayed up 10 minutes or so past when I told myself I would because I was SO very close to finishing Kyle’s Little Sister, and ANY graphic novel I can pass on to my 12-year-old makes her day. (And her day could use some making, because she’s still down in the dumps over this coming week being distance learning because of Covid numbers. Not only does she hate, loathe, despise, and abominate distance learning, but it’s also the first week of the new quarter, which means brand new classes starting virtually instead of in person, INCLUDING HER DANCE CLASS.) I went ahead and finished it, of course, because I was just too close NOT to, and overall it was a solid middle grade graphic novel. The art wasn’t my favorite, trending toward manga style when I’m more of a Telgemeier/Jamieson kind of girl, but Grace’s sibling and friend struggles are relatable, and while it takes her longer than I would have liked to step up and do the right thing in one particular situation, the book deals with that in a realistic, growth-y kind of way. (Yeah, not a word, don’t care today.) Kyle’s Little Sister focuses on the kind of relationship struggles (sibling and friend) that affect middle graders everywhere, so it’s solidly worth your time. We’ll see how much my 12-year-old loves it!

One thing, as an afterthought–I did find the directed bubbles vs. non-directed speech bubbles vs. complete lack of speech bubbles a bit confusing. The last was probably thoughts, but that wasn’t clear to me at first, and as for the rest, I wasn’t always sure. Let me know how much it bothers you…

Or at least, that’s what it feels like. Doctors’ offices are slammed, pharmacies are behind, the county has issued a 30-day mask mandate (which some people are grumpy about), and while some of us are on the upswing, others seem to be teetering on the brink of getting sick (with something) again.

Blech.

On the other hand, I sent all of the kids to school today, even though my youngest may have a mild cough; she may also just be clearing her throat in response to the not-so-lovely inversion we’ve got going on, and I just couldn’t bear to keep a child who acts completely well (and may well BE completely well) home. With the house to myself, I managed exercise, laundry, dishes, laundry, a nap, laundry, the library and pharmacy, laundry–are you seeing a theme?–AND I finished a book over lunch. David Almond’s War Is Over caught my eye on a display once upon a time, and it went quickly once I actually started it (because really, 112 or so heavily illustrated pages). Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite the book I was looking for.

War Is Over is labelled historical fiction and takes place during 1918; John’s father is at war, John’s mother works in a factory (which manages to give off both a gothic and an assembly line vibe) making shrapnel shells, and John himself is bewildered by the propaganda telling him that he, too, is at war. The problem is that John, his parents, his classmates, his teacher, and all of the rest of the characters in the book aren’t characters at all; they’re personified ideas/attitudes/beliefs/philosophies. The book isn’t historical fiction, not really–it’s a fable. It feels almost like Almond wanted to create an Animal Farm around the idea of warfare and war propaganda, except that where Animal Farm is magnificently chilling in a spare, single-minded sort of way, War Is Over doesn’t–quite–work. It’s beautifully illustrated and the dream of peace and the best sort of brotherhood is solid, but the questionable accuracy of the occasional detail kept jarring me out of the book’s spell. If you set a book in 1918 and make it about the Great War, it loses the timeless quality of a fable and becomes–what? Magical realism uneasily crossed with historical fiction, perhaps? Only again, with 2-dimensional characters who reminded me of the mouse and the lion with the thorn in its paw–worthy, but having no life outside of how their behavior illustrates a truth. WWI was absolutely a pointless war, and it sowed the seeds for the international tragedy that was WWII, and yet the truth remains that it only takes one group to start a war, and some wars are actually worth fighting. Keeping our humanity and remembering that of our adversaries is essential for good to come out of them, I think, but reality is complex and Almond’s fable just doesn’t quite work for me. I think his mistake was giving it a (nominally) real setting, because it just isn’t true historical fiction; others, however, may feel differently. If you’re looking for a pacifist fable, this might be completely your jam; I’m going to move on to actual historical fiction.

Not that it’s not the 7th, but I’ve had the most miserable sore throat; it came with a heaping side of exhaustion and a congested sauce, and I haven’t had it in me to do much of anything beyond the necessities. (That being laundry, dishes, and feeding people, although I did pack away all of the nativities yesterday.) I finished Whitney Gardner’s Long Distance last night, however, and it will make my 12-year-old sick buddy’s day if I review it and hand it over. If my review is less than stellar, well–blame a still foggy brain.

Long Distance has all of Fake Blood‘s bizarre, fantastical appeal; Gardner marries realistic fiction with, umm, not realistic fiction absurdly well. Long Distance, however, seems to have less specific humor; where Fake Blood seemed to spend quality time having fun with elements of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, Long Distance has a more general summer-camp-tropes-meet-campy-sci-fi vibe to it. (Either that, or I’m not familiar with its more specific references, which is actually entirely possible.) Vega’s devastation at leaving her best friend behind in her move makes her instantly sympathetic, and while I took much longer to warm up to Gemma, I found Qwerty and Isaac quickly likable. This is a solid intermediate graphic novel, with fun twists and an unexpected but fabulous outcome; I’m expecting my 12-year-old to devour it, while I found it completely worth my time as well.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I might finally find the gumption to start packing away my Christmas tree ornaments…