Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

I picked up Aimee Lucido’s Emmy in the Key of Code at a library sale some indeterminate length of time ago; when I realized it was a verse novel AND available in audio, I figured it would be a short listen and then I could donate it to the elementary school. The two problems with that turned out to be 1) it needed a visual reading, not just a listen and 2) it was good enough that I’m not sure I want to give it up. Emmy has just moved to San Francisco with her parents so her dad can pursue his musical dreams, and she doesn’t seem to fit in anywhere–until she ends up in an “Introduction to Computer Science” elective. To her surprise, coding is a revelation to her; it’s like a kind of music she’s actually good at. It also turns out to be her path to finding out where she belongs. It’s a circuitous path, yes, but Emmy finds her way down it nevertheless, and her story is both poignant and satisfying. I’d recommend reading a physical copy of this one–the coding bits and references don’t come through as fully over audio–and I’d recommend it to a wide variety of readers, because I’m not at all a computer coding sort of person, and I loved it. Let me know what you think!

My 14-year-old and I read Life in the Balance together BEFORE we read The Distance Between Me and the Cherry Tree; I didn’t get it reviewed quickly, however, because it was a thought-provoking book that needed a commensurate review. As time went by, the details faded a bit, which made procrastination that much more inviting, and here we are–probably two months later. (Give or take.)

Luckily, I have this child-free time to force myself to do the things that require significant concentration or a noticeable time commitment, and I’m determined to use it partly to review the books still on my ‘currently reading’ list that I’ve actually finished this year, so Life in the Balance is finally getting its due.

I’m just not sure where to start.

I suppose, then, I’ll start with Veronica. She’s been working towards the All-Star softball team for years, and this is her tryout year; with her softball-player mom’s help, she and her best friend are planning to ace their tryouts and rock being on the team together. Except that her also-alcoholic mom finally agrees to go to rehab, making herself unavailable for extra skill practice, and it turns out that the rehab is expensive–maybe too expensive for Veronica to be on the All-Star team at all. Veronica decides to enter the town talent show, aiming for the prize money to keep the All-Star team within her reach; as she practices for both, however, her feelings about both singing and softball begin to shift.

And then there are friend difficulties.

Life in the Balance deals with a lot of issues, obviously; the impressive thing is how well it deals with them, because you never feel like there’s too much going on. The issues are interconnected (which is where the need for balance comes in). Jen Petro-Roy doesn’t shy away from the pain caused by alcoholism; neither, however, does she focus on that pain exclusively. There are laugh-out-loud moments from the very beginning, providing necessary comic relief, and Petro-Roy’s exploration of how much kids should have to give up for a goal–AND how increased pressure changes our feelings about what we love–is at least as important as the rehab storyline. The friend difficulties feel realistic and stem from caring and real dilemmas rather than drama, making all parties involved feel both likeable and real. In short–too late?–Life in the Balance is a sensitive story about things that matter, making it a worthwhile read for just about anyone.

I just finished reading Squished, and I have to say–if Christmas weren’t over for the year, I’d have a hard time choosing between Squished and the graphic novels that I actually did give my 14-year-old. Megan Wagner Lloyd and Michelle Mee Nutter have created a fantastic portrait of a family of seven, focusing on Avery, the oldest girl. Avery has an older brother and 5 younger siblings and is desperate for her own room; she gets teased about and is often embarrassed by her large family, and yet her love for them shines through. She’s already facing changes like starting middle school and friend dynamic shifts, however, and when she learns a bigger change might be coming, she is NOT happy about it. How she ends up coping makes for a thoroughly satisfying story, and I’m expecting my graphic novel girls to love it.

Of course, they won’t actually get it until they come home from Grandma’s house, but it will be something they can look forward to, right? In the meantime, I still have a couple of days to chip away at the things I’d like to accomplish while they’re gone. Wish me luck!

Honestly? Our Christmas was lovely. The kiddos were thrilled, we spent time with family and played games–we are blessed. The days after Christmas, of course, find the kiddos squabbling and the house a bit of a disaster, but as of yesterday at 4, those kiddos are at Grandma’s house and my hubby and I are enjoying an anniversary stay-cation. (Well, I am. He does have to go to work today.) My docket for today includes deleting a whole ton of emails (because that situation isn’t pretty), going through pictures on my phone so those can be deleted, and reviewing books I’ve finished this year but haven’t gotten to yet. Which is why we’re here…

So. I finished reading The Distance Between Me and the Cherry Tree aloud to my 14-year-old the other day, and while it had plenty of sad parts, I think we both enjoyed it. After all, you know going in that Mafalda is going blind, so you’re prepared for much (although not all) of the sadness, right? And there are moments of hilarity plus a few good friends. Ultimately, this is a valuable read for anyone enduring (or preparing to endure) a significant trial. (And it’s got a cat!) I picked it up because it was a Batchelder Honor book in 2020–that’s the annual award for outstanding children’s books published outside the US and translated into English–and I’m glad I did. Let me know what you think!

One of my book groups picked Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End a couple of months ago, although it took me several weeks to move through the hold list at the library; when I started it I was fascinated but busy, and since I couldn’t up the speed much because of some of the vocabulary, I ran out of time and it was automatically returned when I was only half done. Since then I’d been diligently waiting for it to come in again–it’s a popular book–until a week ago, and it remained SO fascinating that I finished the rest of it in less than a week. My sister and my friend Britt have both read it as well, and we all agree that it’s ridiculously good. It talks about nursing homes and elder care and their evolution, about how we as a society deal with terminal illness, and about what doctors can and can’t do as well as do and don’t do. You know those kinds of books that you keep telling stories from to the people you live with? This is one of those books. (Just ask my husband.) I actually ordered a copy of it for us after finishing it, because A) it has some important things in it that I’d like to remember and B) books this good deserve to have the sales to prove it. If anyone in your life is aging or facing a serious (or terminal) illness, Being Mortal is an absolute must read.

Seriously.

In other news on the mortality front, I learned today that my old boss from my college days passed away this year. Dennis Bollschweiler was a father to me when my own father lived thousands of miles away and I needed one; he was fiercely loving, sometimes crotchety, a hard worker, and a brave man. He had a red face and a white mustache, and his loss fills me with sadness for those of us who loved him and with gratitude for the gospel and the Plan of Salvation–in other words, for our Savior Jesus Christ.

Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings,
ris’n with healing in his wings.
Mild he lays his glory by,
born that man no more may die,
born to raise the sons of earth,
born to give them second birth. 
Hark! the herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn King!”

Full disclosure: I finished Invisible weeks ago, but I didn’t immediately have time to review it, and lately I’ve been putting it off mostly because the memory is fading a bit. On the other hand, I am DETERMINED not to wrap it for my oldest before reviewing it, and so here we are. It may or not be my last review of the day–yes, I’m that far behind–but at least it’ll be done.

One of the coolest things about Invisible is that much of the dialogue is bilingual, and I think my AP Spanish student will enjoy being able to choose which language to focus on. More than that, however, it’s a book for both kids who feel too Spanish in America and kids who don’t feel Spanish enough–AND kids who feel ignored despite having all kinds of qualities worth being seen. It’s a little “Breakfast Club”-ish and a tiny bit “Stand and Deliver”-ish, and the ending reminds me a tad of Joan Bauer. If you like stories about underdogs making a difference, or kids growing to meet their potential, or second chances–well, you get the idea. Invisible is interesting, positive, and almost begs for a sequel or three. We’ll see what happens!

In the meantime, the rest of my day involves getting a pot of apples on the stove to cook down, meeting virtually with my oldest daughter’s therapist, exercising, taking my youngest daughter to therapy, and facing Walmart with some of the kiddos. May the odds be ever in my favor…

In my quest to find graphic novels to give my kiddos for Christmas this year, I ended up reading Saving Sunshine all in one day. (To be fair, it’s barely over 220 pages.) And while the sibling bickering storyline is a risk for me–there’d better not be emulation of that in my house–the way it’s handled is promising. For one thing, the parents’ reaction to it feels incredibly real. (And I feel their pain.) For another, we see how the rift between the siblings started–and how it starts to mend as well. Add saving a Loggerhead turtle to that plot and you have a story that will HOPEFULLY encourage my children to be kinder to each other and respect each other’s interests–as well as one they should thoroughly enjoy reading. Cross your fingers, folks!

In the meantime, despite some impressive fog last night, we did get a fair number of neighbor gifts delivered. With luck, more people will be home tonight. With even MORE luck, visibility will be better. I guess we’ll see. (Or not see, as the case may be. But I’m hoping for more of the seeing.) Good luck with your Christmas endeavors today!

I was getting seriously worried about finding the perfect graphic novel for my 14-year-old for Christmas this year, folks. Although she’ll read ANY graphic novel, her preference is for realistic fiction, so I didn’t want fantasy or sci-fi–or realistic fiction focused on fandoms of fantasy or sci-fi–and book with bits of untranslated Spanish (or any other language, for that matter) are out, because she gets frustrated when she doesn’t understand something, and Christmas gifts shouldn’t be frustrating. I needed a book with characters I don’t mind her spending a LOT of time with, so anything with too many mean sibling comments is out as well. (She’s been a lot nicer to her brother in the past year or so, and I’d like that trend to continue.)

Thanks to the Publishers Weekly list of graphic novels out this fall, however, I came across Sharee Miller’s Curlfriends: New in Town–and hit the jackpot. Realistic fiction? Check. Character who learns to care a little less about what others think of her and be more comfortable with herself? Check–and perfect for my 14-year-old. Cute pet? Check (although Pierre could definitely have more of a presence). Loving parents who aren’t perfect but always try? Check. This is PERFECT, folks. And as much as the whole “I’m going to lie about myself to seem cooler to my friends” plot isn’t one I can personally relate to–the stress of being found out would destroy me in about 10 minutes–Charlie’s life experiences thus far make it completely plausible. You root for her through her worst choices (because who chooses vomit?!) and cheer when she starts to sort herself out; as a parent, I shook my head at her dad in the beginning, but not only is he always lovable and believable, he also sorts himself out a bit during the course of the novel.

Bottom line? This is a story about personal growth and positive girl friendships within the jungle that is middle school. It might be a bit unrealistically positive, but after all, doesn’t that age need all the positive it can get? Don’t miss this one!

It’s obvious that no real posting schedule is going to happen between now and Christmas, folks–and is anybody surprised? Last weekend we had our ward Christmas party and watched an incredibly cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie as a family–it was a second choice, because Plex had our first choice labelled wrong and it wasn’t actually there–and this week I’ve been plugging away at life, parenting, and Christmas. (All three of which are feeling on the difficult side at the moment.)

Yesterday I finished listening to a less cheesy but still fluffy Christmas book, because I haven’t got the brain power for anything else–Susan Wiggs’ The Twelve Dogs of Christmas. Full disclosure: I don’t actually love dogs. I do, however, appreciate people who help animals in need, and I LOVE Christmas and snow and small towns, so this book checked plenty of boxes for me. The idea of a road trip from Houston to upstate New York with 12 dogs is totally entertaining as long as I’m not personally involved, and while I could see much of what was coming from a mile away, isn’t that kind of what’s supposed to happen with fluffy reads? Brenda is (of course) drawn into the small town of Avalon upon her arrival–which is much more dramatic than anticipated–and between the town itself and the cute single dad living on her host’s property, there is resistance and dealing with past trauma and love (in that order). Dog lovers should get a higher level of enjoyment out of the book than I did simply because of the rescue dogs, but I was still drawn into the story and enjoyed listening to it play out. If you’re looking for a fluffy Christmas read/listen, The Twelve Dogs of Christmas is worth trying!

I just finished Kathryn Ormsbee’s Growing Pangs (again, I just got up off the couch!), and I’m thrilled that a)it’s definitely going to work as a Christmas gift this month and b)I got it at Britt’s book fair for $3. What’s not to love? It’s actually surprisingly similar to Shannon Hale’s Real Friends; Katie’s having friend issues (although not at all the same kind) and she’s struggling with compulsive thoughts that make growing up more difficult than it already is; she even has red hair like Shannon! (Please tell me I’m remembering that right, the cover’s accurate, and Shannon really does have red hair…) Growing Pangs is also the story of the author’s own struggles growing up, giving it a solidly real feel (right down to the unfortunate truth that some real-life events lack the level of resolution readers might hope for). The story works, and girls struggling with changing friendships and personal worries will both see themselves in Katie and feel seen–and isn’t that what we want our children to do when they read? (Of course, we also love it when they can escape outside themselves–really, we just love it when they read.) I’m more ho-hum about the artistic style, but the illustrator and the author struggled in similar ways growing up, which makes their collaboration work regardless. If you have a latter elementary schooler or middle grader with friend struggles and/or mental health struggles, don’t miss this one.*

*And if you don’t? It’s still good!