Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

I told my almost-13-year-old that I was going to start saying that every time she tries to swipe a graphic novel that I’m in the middle of–especially one that she’s already read multiple times. Hope Larson’s All Together Now most definitely qualifies on BOTH counts, and in the spirit of self-preservation I finally finished it last night. It’s a solid sequel to All Summer Long, although the almost-romance is definitely going to appeal more to the middle school experience, possibly provoking some smiling eye rolls from adult readers. My only issue was a personal disagreement on the copyright conflict, so to speak; while Bina probably didn’t handle it in an ideal way, I thought she was in the right. In any case, Bina’s quest to form her own band, keep healthy friendships, and make the music she really wants to make is worth reading–and should really appeal to Larson’s target audience.

In other news, yesterday morning we finally had my son’s birthday breakfast–hey, it’s still July!–and then I met with the PTA president about the budget before stopping at Walmart and coming home for a quick nap. My son’s friend’s mom invited us all to swim at their neighborhood pool in the afternoon, and while I had to leave for a bit to take my oldest to her scheduled volunteer service, good times were had by all. By the time we all got home and I exercised, heating up leftovers for dinner made the most sense, and then the kids and I read, because the sun takes it out of you. Today there’s more PTA fun and then a stake Pioneer Day BBQ.

In the heat.

On the other hand, our 7-day forecast has a 94 in it, so we may have to break out the jackets next week–here’s hoping y’all are cooling down as well!

I really thought things would slow down nicely after everyone was home from all the trips, but it really hasn’t felt like it! On Monday my oldest had the dentist and my son played at a friend’s house while I took his sisters shopping (by the time I’d dropped him off and come back my oldest was done). We hit a Walmart Neighborhood Market on the way home and I was unimpressed with the prices, and then I made lasagna for dinner. (We were going to have it on Sunday except that we were completely out of lasagna noodles, which is the number one reason we went to the weird Walmart.) Yesterday was a ‘clean up and organize in problem spots’ kind of a day–which certainly needed to happen–and this morning I ran to Ream’s to get pork and potatoes for dinner with my nephew tonight. I did laundry and such before going out to lunch with Britt, and then did a bit more dinner prep while my nephew took my older girls to the temple. After dinner my fantastic hubby took said nephew to the airport and I was a good girl and did the dishes I didn’t want to do, so go me!

In other news, I finished listening to A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking over laundry and such today, and OH MY STARS I LOVE THIS BOOK. (As in, I’m pondering getting it for myself for Christmas maybe?) T. Kingfisher is Ursula Vernon’s not-writing-for-kids name, and while this was a book club pick–I just don’t choose fantasy much on my own–I am so DESPERATELY glad it was. To be honest with you, it gave me quite a strong tribute-to-the-work-of-Robin-McKinley vibe, with its teenage baker wizard main character, her quirky, slightly rambling, real-time narration style, and its pointed way of viewing heroism. (Those phrases in that sentence want to be parallel but aren’t–quite–and I’m open to suggestions, being too tired tonight to actually come up with a solution.) If you can picture something Robin McKinley-ish written with all of the wit and humor of the ‘Hamster Princess’ books, you can picture this book; Mona, a bakery wizard with a sentient sourdough starter, finds a dead body in her aunt’s bakery and becomes slowly entangled in a plot against her city. The thing is, it doesn’t really even feel like fantasy; it feels like a story about incredibly real people who just happen to live in a world where different sorts of things happen–or where some of the same things happen as in our world, but happen differently. (I mean, yes, animating bread is solidly fantastical, but Mona’s just too real, somehow, for that to matter.) Just–go read this book, okay? Because you need this in your life.

Like, now.

I wasn’t expecting to love Sal & Gabi Break the Universe. To be honest with you, I wasn’t even sure how much I was going to LIKE it. Sci-Fi/Fantasy is not so much my thing, after all, and while the Aru Shah books and the Storm Runner trilogy were interesting, I was fully prepared for Sal & Gabi to join them in the “adventurous ride that I listened to because my daughter was interested” category.

And then I loved it. LOVED IT. The thing about Sal & Gabi is that it’s hilarious–and real–and poignant, all at once and beautifully, incredibly so. The saga of the Mami Muertas–Mamis Muertas?–is enough to break your heart, except that then Sal is deflecting bullying by bringing up murdered poultry, all while his insights on life ring solidly true. How often do you get all that in one book? Add to that a main character with type one diabetes–I have a niece that was diagnosed at 4–and the fabulous Cuban Spanish angle, and Gabi’s writing, and Yasmany’s storyline–oh my goodness. This is a book that will take you from a Coral Castle (of sorts) through the multiverse to the NICU, and you’re going to love every minute of the journey.

I can’t WAIT to give this one to my 15-year-old.

Although not so much because I’ve missed posts, to be honest with you. Sunday was my birthday and I taught a Sunday school lesson and helped my 12-year-old get ready for Oakcrest–a Monday-Friday church camp for girls going into 8th grade. She was nervous and hadn’t prepped as much as I was thinking she had, so that was an endeavor WITHOUT the power loss that cost me a birthday cake. (One’s family does not prep for a cake that bakes for 45 minutes when no one has any idea if and when there will be electricity to bake it. One fully understands and supports this.) She needed to be at a neighboring church building to tag her luggage at 7, so my hubby took her while I exercised and then I took her to Murray to catch the camp buses on Monday morning. Monday was spent in 1)the craziness of hey, the new dryer I found out about yesterday is getting delivered earlier than I expected AND while my son and I are gone, so good thing we have a neighbor to come be the adult in the house! and 2)hey, my niece and her family are coming in time for dinner before sleeping here for an early morning ride to the airport. I got up at 5:30 Tuesday morning to get them to the airport and then had PTA meetings at 10 and 2; yesterday, thankfully, my hubby took our oldest to summer seminary so that I could sleep a bit more. My son had a friend over in the morning and we went to see my friend Andrea’s new house in the afternoon, and I spent a lovely evening working on a puzzle and listening to a fabulous audiobook. This morning my oldest had the orthodontist at 8:45, my littles had piano at 9:30, and then we headed to a friend’s house for lunch before I left the littles with her and took my oldest to a 2 pm appointment; we got home around 5 so that I could exercise and do a load of laundry before my hubby brought home Panda Express a little after 6. (My absent daughter hates Panda–hence tonight’s meal.)

The reason I HAVE felt sort of guilty involves Jarad Greene’s A-Okay, which my 12-year-old read at school and recommended to me. It’s a semi-autobiographical graphic novel about a boy’s struggle with severe acne, and reading it involved a lot of “dang, acne wasn’t a big problem in my life and that seems so unfair.” (To be clear, when I think about my teenage experience as a whole, I had plenty of my own struggles–that just wasn’t one of them. I got the occasional zit.) Jay ends up on a medication with some unpleasant side effects, which doesn’t help the scariness that is figuring out 8th grade friendships. Add to that Jay’s lack of romantic feelings for anyone, and you have a book that has you wincing on the author’s behalf. (And your own. Because let’s be realistic about how not great the average 8th grade experience is…) Thankfully, Jay does eventually figure things out–mostly–and we’re left with a graphic novel that some kids are going to hardcore relate to. (Others–like me–might not personally relate, but growing our empathy is always a good thing.) Give this one especially to the teenage boys in your life!

While I love that my 12-year-old still wants read-aloud time with me, most of our reads are fiction; our tastes intersect well enough that we never hurt for options there. She tends NOT to love my preferences in non-fiction–she thinks most of them are too sad–but we’ve occasionally managed, say, one of Sy Montgomery’s animal books together. On the other hand, I’ve had Christina Soontornvat’s All Thirteen: The Incredible Cave Rescue of the Thai Boys’ Soccer Team checked out ever since it became a Newbery Honor book, because I tend not to have the brain power for non-fiction at the time of day when I can read, uninterrupted, by myself. It finally occurred to me that since all thirteen were rescued, she might be up for it; I showed it to her and asked, she assented, and off we went to Thailand of an evening.

I have to say, it made an even better read aloud with her than I could have hoped for.* She never wanted to stop when we did, and by the time the dangerous rescue was ready to begin, I ended up having to read aloud for at least 45 minutes to get to an acceptable spot in which to pause. (I was just as caught up in the story as she was, but that’s hard on the vocal chords!) Yesterday, while my littles played with friends, we got the rest of the team out of the cave so that they wouldn’t be stuck in there when she goes to Oakcrest (a church camp for girls going into 8th grade), and let me tell you, we were both fascinated. The fact that the boys were sedated and their wrists and ankles secured with zipties so they wouldn’t drag and scrape–in my 12-year-old’s words, “it makes sense, but it’s still creepy!” The dangers involved made for quite the tale, but we also both loved seeing how many people worked together to help the Wild Boars, and in how many ways. (It’s nice to give your faith in humanity a boost.) I wasn’t particularly aware of the situation at the time–my youngest was still as much toddler as preschooler, and we were at a family reunion for much of the actual rescue–and that made reading about it even more fascinating. Don’t miss this one!

*Apart from all of those Thai names. I’m sure I butchered about 99% of them.

I’m not sure whether it was the sun at Bear Lake or sleeping poorly that week, but I have had the hardest time waking up in the morning ever since we got back. (Of course, I could–as always–stand to go to bed earlier.) Here I am, however, finally awake, mostly alert, and ready to review All Summer Long, so that my 12-year-old doesn’t DIE waiting for it. (In my defense, she’s already read it about a million times, but never in COLOR. As in, she read it in black and white, and the library copy we currently have is in black, white, and yellow-orange.) The house is quiet, since that 12-year-old has yet to come upstairs and I sent the littles out to skate and scoot while the temperature is still bearable. (And by bearable, I mean it’s 82 degrees outside, and while 82 in the shade is actually pleasant without humidity, it’s 9:18 in the morning. Ugh.)

So–All Summer Long. Which has been on my list for years now, because it keeps showing up on lists of notable graphic novels and whatnot. Having read it, I can see why it’s on those lists–it does a gentle job of highlighting the changes that come with friendships (especially boy-girl friendships) as we start growing up. We also see Bina dealing with new friendship developments and a family addition while her passion for music becomes more of a force in her life. I confess, the art is not my favorite, but the story is solid and Bina is thoroughly likable; I’m looking forward to the second Eagle Rock graphic novel. In the meantime, how to keep my 12-year-old from reading this on repeat all week long? I promised her older sister that I’d keep it until she gets home from FSY and has the chance to read it herself, which means I can’t just summarily return it to the library.

Ideas?

Well, we made it home from our family reunion–my husband’s side–more or less intact. Less, maybe, because while everyone but my hubby got badly sunburned somewhere, my second girlie ended up with actual, honest-to-goodness heatstroke.

We got to Bear Lake on July 4th and promptly served our assigned meal, of which we had ridiculous quantities of leftovers (I keep forgetting, when planning, that my family and my husband’s family do not eat the same way). We took our big family picture and did some fireworks that night. On Tuesday the 5th we went to a nearby adventure park with a tube slide, a rope course, an impressive zipline, and a few other things; my son had to be dragged there (he was overtired) but loved the tube slide, while my older girls and I did the rope course and my hubby tried the slide and kept an eye on our timid 7-year-old. Wednesday was our day actually at Bear Lake, and that’s where the problems arose. My 12-year-old was out from 9:30 in the morning to about 5 in the evening; she packed a lunch and so was out in the sun all that time, with only a bottle of water (with a flavoring packet inside) and a can of soda to drink. I rented kayaks without realizing that my sister- and brother-in-law owned and brought two, and so my oldest and I brought them at least a mile by water so that they could be very sparsely used; they mostly sat there and cost me a hundred bucks, plus the headache of getting them back over land. My hubby stood too much the first part of the day and was crazy sore, and none of us reapplied sunscreen. So–lessons we learned:

1. (My son, especially) Always have someone else sunscreen your back.
2. Sunscreen might last for the time in between meals, but that’s its limit. If you eat a meal,
reapply.
3. Make sure you get both sides of your legs–thoroughly.
4. Seven-year-olds will happily play in the sand for hours rather than spend much time in a kayak.
5. My in-laws are pretty great.

Once we were all back, showered, and fed I got my 7-year-old into bed, we had shakes, and then we played games. My poor fried 12-year-old was shivering when she went to bed but woke up hot and threw up around 1 am; she went back to bed, but the next morning she full on passed out–fainted–THREE times, twice in my arms. She was given a priesthood blessing, I googled, and dehydration seemed the most likely culprit, and so she sipped water lying down and then sitting and stayed conscious after that. She and my youngest did both throw up on the way out of Bear Lake–it was a very windy canyon and they were overtired and done with life by then–but we stopped at my niece’s in Logan to rest and refill water bottles and cups that had been depleted to rinse the bucket out, and then stopped at Cox’s Honeyland, where my 12-year-old sat in the air-conditioned car and the rest of us browsed. When we finally got home we unpacked the car and then what bags were absolutely necessary, did only necessary things the rest of the day, ate leftovers from the family reunion, and went to bed early.

ALL of us.

Anyway. Last night I finally managed to finish Charise Mericle Harper’s Bad Sister, which was autobiographical and somewhat difficult for me to read. It was compelling, and being a parent gave me much more perspective, but as a youngest child I was frequently frustrated by young Charise’s behavior. (I can appreciate the face blindness put her in a more difficult emotional place, at least, but still.) Ultimately, however, lessons were learned and karma comes into play. I’ll be interested to see how my older girls like this one…

Today my only son turned 10–double digits!–and what with being out of town and prepping for the holiday tomorrow, we weren’t as prepared as we might have been. Half of his presents, for instance, will be coming this week; he’ll get his birthday meals another day, since today was Fast Sunday; and as of yesterday, I had no book picked out to give him.

I, of course, realized this yesterday.

So. I googled book lists for 4th grade boys–because yes, he’s going into 5th grade, but he’s a summer birthday and a math boy–and came upon Louis Sachar’s There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom. Hmmm, I thought. I’m pretty sure that’s available on audio, and I’ve got a used copy I picked up somewhere if I want to flip through the actual book. Serendipitously, it was immediately available on Libby, and so I listened to more than 75% of it yesterday. I was planning on ordering it before I went to bed–I peeked ahead at the last bit to make sure the ending didn’t disqualify it as a good book gift–and then I realized that the used copy that’s been laying around is very gently used, and who needs everything to be brand-new anyway? He unwrapped it this morning–by which I mean he took tissue paper out of the gift bag it was in, because it was that kind of a day–and I just finished listening to it over a puzzle. I got a little teary, because there were feels, and hey presto! the used copy is in my son’s possession and I get to review it now.

The plot is a very familiar one–caring adult helps kid who needs it–but also one that never gets old, provided it’s executed reasonably well. Sachar does–although not in the most realistic way I’ve ever seen–and I think his boy readers, especially, will relate to Bradley’s worries, thoughts, and feelings. If you’re looking for a book for a latter-elementary boy that doesn’t involve bathroom humor–and those can be frighteningly hard to find–this is a solid option. I’ll let you know what my son thinks!

I’ve been focusing on family for the last week up in Idaho, folks–we went up last Saturday, my nephew spoke in church on Sunday (and then started home MTC the next day), and we had time with my parents until another nephew’s baptism on Thursday evening before the drive home. (We got into our neighborhood before 10:30, so that was a win.) The time with my parents was bittersweet–my dad has vascular dementia, and that really, really sucks–but it was time, and that matters.

Next week we’re focusing our time on my hubby’s side of the family, but they’re still my family, and I’m deeply grateful for that. (It’s such a blessing to have married into a family that is now also my own–I know not everyone has that.) In the meantime, however, I finished reading Lupe Wong Won’t Dance a bit ago, and since I’m already thinking about what different sides of our families bring to us, it’s the perfect night to review it. Chinacan/Mexinese Lupe is all set to pitch in the major leagues someday, but she needs straight As in order to meet her baseball idol, and the square dancing unit in PE throws her for a major loop. Add the intrinsic awfulness of middle school, a regurgitated breakfast burrito, an serious best friend fight, coconut-scented malicious shaving cream, and some false front teeth, and you get a story of causes, friendships, and growth.

And square dancing. (Which was part of music class in my elementary school, by the by.)

Remember the book I compared to the most amazing stuffed peppers ever? Lupe Wong is also by Donna Barba Higuera, and since it’s not dystopian sci-fi, I thoroughly enjoyed it. The plot has a bit of a different feel to its journey–I’m honestly not sure I can even explain what I mean by that–but Lupe Wong also feels alive. Whether you read or listen–and the narrator on the audiobook is lovely–expect both laughter and tears; this is a book well worth your time.