Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

It’s proving a more formidable foe than I had hoped, folks. Still, I have at least ONE more review in me, so here goes…

Jen Petro-Roy’s Good Enough was the latest read-aloud for my 14YO and me–not that I’ve reviewed the book we read together before it. (I don’t want to talk about it.) I was a bit surprised that she picked it over the other choices I gave her–it had the potential to be sadder than she prefers–and she was worried after our first session about just how sad it was, but by our second or third bout of reading, she was completely hooked.

Honestly, so was I.

We meet Riley as she checks into the hospital for an anorexia recovery program; she is (not surprisingly) angry and defensive and unhappy. Experiencing her recovery with her was an interesting experience, especially compared to the last novel I read about an anorexic in recovery; being twelve, Riley acclimates, adapts, and transitions into recovery far more quickly than Anna, the married main character of The Girls at 17 Swann Street. She does, however, have to deal with parental frustrations and school difficulties that make her looming discharge scary in different ways. Thankfully, amid rallying friends and growing skills Riley’s stay ends on a hopeful note, which (together with the occasional laugh-out-loud thought that apparently characterizes Petro-Roy’s heroines) makes Good Enough a satisfying read; the most important thing about the book, however, is the message of the title itself. Our girls are growing up in a terrifying world, and unless we can teach them how beautiful and perfectly imperfect each one of them is, we risk losing them. (This is why I [with limited exceptions] oppose cosmetic surgery.) The beauty of Riley’s journey lies, more than anything else, in watching her fight towards that conclusion.

If you are or have a teenage girl, don’t miss this one.

That’s how I’m feeling about this morning, folks. (Also about Peter. He really does continue to recover, although he’s still not at all his old self.) I’ve done enough laundry during the week that I have time this morning–I’m hoping–to do multiple book reviews, which is good. I’m certainly not going to manage SIX, which is the number of books I can think of that I’ve finished and are waiting to be reviewed, but more than one ought to be within my grasp! (One hopes. Although one did not get to bed as early as one should have last night, so the tired is now one’s enemy.)

My most recent completion involves the second book in a series by Heather Vogel Frederick that both of my older girls have started; I can pass it along as soon as I’ve reviewed it, and thus it’s doubly first in line. Frederick’s ‘Pumpkin Falls’ mysteries take place in New Hampshire, which is automatically a draw for me–although Truly, the narrator/main character, struggles with moving there. (She lacks a proper appreciation for New England, but I’ve got enough for both of us.) In Yours Truly, she experiences her first sugaring season through her new friends, but cut sap lines are fast causing a town feud; on the home front, the way her male friends are flocking around her visiting cousin makes her feel invisible. I honestly found Truly on the whiny side in this one–as well as a fairly awful big sister–but I can appreciate where she’s coming from, and thirteen is a rough age. She and her friends are an engaging (and enterprising!) group, however, and I think middle graders should enjoy this one.

We had on-and-off snow at the first of this week, which provoked some whining and complaining from those who prefer spring and summer to fall and winter; I, on the other hand, enjoyed wearing long sleeves and made soup for dinner. And while I can’t guarantee that this Chicken Tortilla Soup is the “best” that it claims to be–I’ve possibly only had one other recipe for it–I did find it thoroughly enjoyable.

It would, of course, have been better if I’d actually had cilantro; the majority of my kiddos are ambivalent, however, and I didn’t want to go to the store. I did saute the onions and garlic in olive oil, eventually adding in the can of mild green chilis, because it’s just the better way to do things. (I also used chicken that had been cooked previously, because hey, I had frozen cooked chicken.) Other than that, I pretty much followed the recipe, and while I didn’t have avocados or guac to top it with, the chips, cheese, and sour cream still made for an enjoyable dinner. Give it a try! (Although you’d best do it quickly, depending on where you live–there’s only so much more soup weather to be had until fall.)

Two of the six of us attended church in person today–and hopefully behaved, given that it was the middles and they used to fight constantly. My youngest still sounded gunky, although she said she felt better than she had the previous several days (this morning she said she felt good, and I dubbed her sufficiently less gunky that I sent her to school), my hubby was tired and struggled to get going, and my oldest and I have been gifted the gunk of my youngest. Thank goodness for modern cold medicine! My ears are still blocked, though, and THAT’s driving me crazy.

We did manage to watch “The Quiet Man” together yesterday, which my parents (especially my dad) like watching around St. Patrick’s Day; it’s got some very awkward moments for modern times, but my oldest got a kick out of it. Sadly, my favorite of our bunnies isn’t responding impressively to the medicine the vet prescribed, and while we’ve had him inside and all done some snuggling, I suspect we’re going to have to put Peter down. I lost pets as a child, but this is pretty much a first for my children–and it’s not like being an adult makes it easy.

Moving right along, then, since I’m struggling with that topic. I have a ridiculous quantity of books waiting to be reviewed, and as I was dealing with this week’s crop of library books that are due and not renewable, I realized that one of them fell into that category. If I review it today, it can come back straight into my children’s hands, right? And ironically, it’s a collection of comic short stories–which our family could probably use right now.

Funny Girl: Funniest. Stories. Ever. boasts at least four Newbery winners among its writers; it’s also a fantastically funny collection of short stories written entirely by women. I’m not sure why there are people in our culture that believe women can’t be as funny as men–seriously, have they SEEN Carol Burnett in anything?–but they’re out there, and this book aspires to prove them wrong.

It succeeds.

Funny Girl features a wide enough range of stories to appeal to just about anybody, but I had definite favorites. Raina Telgemeier’s comic made me grin maniacally, while Ursula Vernon is just plain always fabulous; Carmen Agra Deedy’s story, especially, was a completely fantastic surprise (I hadn’t heard of her before now). If your day needs lightening and you’re looking for a laugh, look no further–and don’t ever let anyone tell you (or anyone else, for that matter) that women aren’t funny.

So–I stayed up 10-20 minutes later than I should have last night to finish a book, and I was TOTALLY going to review that book this morning, but then today (because my youngest was home sick, just like yesterday and the day before) I finished the read-aloud I’ve been doing with my third grader, because she needs to do a book report on it this coming week, and so I’m reviewing that instead. (I don’t think that officially qualifies as a run-on sentence, but it’s not a terribly pretty one. Sorry.)

Another funny story–I’ve had Champion: The Comeback Tale of the American Chestnut Tree checked out of the library for ages and ages, and it wasn’t until this past month that it occurred to me that my youngest, who is rarely in the mood for read-alouds (except, you know, when she IS), loves science, and perhaps shorter nonfiction is the way to go with her. I tried her on the first chapter, she wanted to keep going with it, and her teacher even confirmed that it’s fine for her to do her nonfiction book report on a book I read aloud to her–and so, the rest is history.

I, on the other hand, don’t particularly love science; if I have to choose a branch of it to learn about, however, I’ll pick biology every time. (And run screaming in the opposite direction if chemistry ever comes up.) What really got me, though, is my childhood memories of walking in the woods with my father. I remember him stopping to point out American Chestnut stumps to me, and explaining that even though fresh saplings were growing out of them, they wouldn’t grow into adult trees because a blight had invaded American forests years before, killing off the species, and new growth would eventually fall prey to it. Even as a girl, I felt a pang for those little doomed saplings; my father pointed out the (relatively) long, narrow leaves to me, with their distinct saw-toothed edges, and they became one of the species of tree that I noticed and identified automatically during subsequent treks in those woods. I can’t remember how Sally Walker came onto my radar, but when it ultimately registered that she had a book about American Chestnuts–which apparently weren’t completely gone after all?–I checked it out and brought it home to hang out with my other library books.

At the start, Walker’s prose skewed young for me, which partly explains why the book sat on my shelf for so long; when I finally committed to it, however, I found that the young aspect seemed to peter out. (My guess is that her writing voice does skew young, but once you get into scientific theories, experiments, and programs, the vocabulary involved counteracts that tendency.) What was left was a tale of botany and genetics that fascinated me; scientists are approaching the problem from three distinct directions, and yet those directions will likely need to converge into a multipart solution if there are ever to be adult American Chestnut trees in our forests again. (When I say “our,” you understand, I’m speaking as a native Rhode Islander–there weren’t American Chestnuts here in Utah even before the blight.) My daughter listened, and even though she wiggled through parts, her clarifying questions made it clear that she understood most of what was going on.

Sadly, I don’t suppose Champion is quite the book to lure in science-haters; on the other hand, those interested in forests, trees, American history, and science in general will likely be engrossed by its story. In the meantime, I found it interesting–and it brought back precious memories of my pre-dementia father that I treasure.

Now we’ll see how my daughter does on her book report.

Not to or from Idaho, mind you–we did that Thursday and Sunday. (We had a nice weekend with family, too–my brother took my kids with some of his and our oldest great niece to see “Wonka,” the kids found treasures at DI with Grandma–and when we got back, I helped finish up the PTA fundraiser. Hallelujah!) No, today I drove my son to a med check, home, to therapy, and then to school; in half an hour or so I get to take our poor sick bunny to the vet, with my coughing-and-therefore-not-at-school 3rd grader in tow. Thankfully, this week’s church activity for the youth was last night instead of tonight, so once we’re home from the vet and the rest of the kids are home from school, we’ll be HOME.

In the meantime, I finished a graphic novel today while my son was in therapy, and it should cheer the coughing queen up immeasurably if I review it and pass it on, so here goes! Britt checked The Do-Over out with her kiddos, and from her reaction to it I had no doubt my evens (children numbers 2 and 4, the graphic novel-obsessed ones) would enjoy it. I confess to starting it and then taking a long hiatus from it before picking it back up again, but from there I zipped through it pretty quickly, and it was fun. Not, you know, realistically fun–adults are going to have to suspend a whole lot of disbelief–but fun all the same, and with great messages about friends, family, and being yourself (whoever that may be). Mariana’s shyness makes for a storyline my kiddos should absolutely relate to, and the hair salon she opens with her new friends turns out some fantastic ‘dos. This is perfect for the shy, the recently-moved-and-trying-to-adjust, and the fashion-fond, so if your kiddo fits that description–or just loves graphic novels–don’t miss this one!

I’m conceding defeat, folks. It’s the second week of the PTA Fundraiser, I’m trying to cover as much money counting/collecting as I can while still ferrying children places, there’s a Relief Society dinner tomorrow night, and my son has a band concert on Wednesday. Despite the fact that I have at LEAST 3 books waiting to be reviewed, I’m going to take the rest of the week off. And given that Monday is the last day to turn money in?

Let’s just plan on reconvening Wednesday.

I should have blogged on Wednesday, yes. Shall I tell you about my Wednesday?

I was at the elementary school to collect money for the PTA fundraiser from 8:10-ish to 8:50-ish, after which I booked it home to exercise and get ready so I could be at the library to pick up holds right when it opens at 10. From there I went back to the elementary school to check out my daughter, then to the junior high to check out my son, then on to therapy. After dropping them both off at their respective schools afterwards I ran home to use the bathroom, grabbed lunch at Sonic, and then headed to Kearns High to donate blood (it was the most convenient blood drive I could find for this week). I did get to go home for an hour or so before leaving to pick up my elementary schooler, but I used some of that time to snag a bit of rest and more of it to consider laundry mountain. I had kids in and out for church things from 4:30 until after 9, and so in between my four loads of laundry I fed them, sent them off, welcomed them back, sent them off again–you get the idea. By the time I was truly done with the day, there was no coherence left in me.

(Honestly, I was gone a good bit yesterday as well, but almost three hours of that involved driving to Draper and having lunch with one of my best friends, so it was a better kind of busy.) Today, however–today is the day I get to attack a book review or three (depending on my level of coherence, you understand), go to Costco, and then drive kids around all afternoon. Good times, right?

So. I finished listening to Jamie Sumner’s One Kid’s Trash earlier this week…again. (Because the first time I listened to it I let too much time pass before managing a review.) My second girlie and I both enjoyed Roll With It and Time to Roll, and both my older girls and I read and thoroughly enjoyed Tune It Out; I wanted to love One Kid’s Trash as well, but I have to confess–on my second listen, I started to find Hugo a bit whiny. To be fair, however, I think it’s a much more gender-specific thing to be bullied for being small; I’m not saying girls don’t deal with short jokes and such, but I don’t think it’s quite the same. And Hugo does have a good bit to deal with–he’s had to move away from his friends and his dad’s lack of attention to home and family commitments is no small thing. While it’s not unusual for a kid to let newfound popularity go to his or her head, however, I’ve always found it to be a particularly annoying thing to read about, and Hugo’s rationalizing needed a more significant epiphany moment for me to consider him fully redeemed. (Of course, on the other hand, family relationships are in some ways more complicated than friendships.) Still, it’s a good story with likeable characters, and Hugo’s grand gesture is impressive; I know I’m letting myself be more irritated than the situation warrants. I’m thinking my second girlie will probably enjoy this one, and for any boy that’s been picked on or bullied, this could be a fantastic choice. (And Hugo’s epiphany over his crossword mistake is significant, thank goodness.)

As for me? I’m already looking forward to my next Jamie Sumner experience!

…Meaning I stayed up later than I should have with my audiobook and a jigsaw puzzle. Stopping either one by itself can be hard enough, but the combination–well, I struggle.

On the other hand, that means you get a quick review, so I can return said audiobook before I head off to the library today (although I’ll have to get my car back from being serviced first). I started listening to The Marlow Murder Club when I was in need of something lighter but determined not to just re-listen to an old favorite; I’ve read and listened to parts of other books since starting it, but last night I got to that point in a mystery where you can’t really stop, and while I’m tired today, it’s still nice to have finished it.

I will say, I don’t read a ton of mysteries overall; I tend towards romance when I want something fluffy. I am a devout Agatha Christie fan, however, and so a sleuthing team made up of an older British woman, a vicar’s wife named Becks, and a down-to-earth empty-nester single mother appealed. (Okay, they’re all British women, but that sentence was giving me more trouble than last night’s bedtime could deal with.) Judith, Becks, and Suzie are an unlikely but likeable trio; while their camaraderie may be on the sudden side, they’re both engaging and entertaining together. Robert Thorogood’s red herrings are such that it took me longer to put my finger on the solution than it might have done, and the ending is satisfying (if a touch farcical). Marlow Murder Club isn’t perfect, I grant you, but it’s enjoyable enough that I didn’t really care. Give it a try if you’re interested!

I was really, really going to write a review today, folks, only I got caught up getting dinner in the crockpot, collecting library books that are due and not renewable tomorrow, and calling to make appointments, and then somehow it was time to eat lunch and pick my 14-year-old up for her 2:00 appointment. From there it’s been mostly go, go, go, and now I’m most definitely not mentally capable of much critical thought. Here, then, is a review of another color…

Parents of school-aged children out there–have you heard of the Graphic Library series? In some ways it’s a bit like the “Who Was ______?” series, only they’re graphic novels of between 25-35 pages long about all kinds of people from history. There are categories–inventors, courageous children, etc.–and today I read (in order to pass it along to my children) Elizebeth Friedman: Expert Codebreaker of World War II. I’ll admit that the art in the series isn’t always fantastic–and honestly, neither is the writing. Regardless, I keep checking them out and making my children read them after I do, because a)I love history, b)it’s important and I want to communicate that to my children, and c)requiring them to read graphic novels of 35 pages or fewer isn’t unreasonable. Every once in a while one of them balks a bit, but I remain hardhearted–and I love that my 9-year-old knows who Claudette Colvin is.

The one about Elizebeth Friedman, however–and yes, spell check’s hissy fit notwithstanding, that IS how you spell her first name–was more my style of art AND beyond fascinating. I had no idea how big of a role Friedman played in cracking codes in the US–for decades, no less! She SHOULD be a big deal in history books, but instead (shocker) an unscrupulous man took public credit for some of her more serious accomplishments, and it’s been relatively recently that she’s begun to receive the credit she deserves. Look her up if you want some interesting reading for the day!