Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

This weekend was our stake conference, and I truly loved having my hubby with me for the adult evening session on Saturday as well as the 10 am general session on Sunday. (The kiddos were good, too, so that was nice all around.) What I DIDN’T love was my hubby reminding me Sunday morning that his flight was leaving at 5 or 6 that evening. Say what? Of course, it was for a work trip, and I knew about it in the abstract, but my brain had apparently not rendered it concrete on my calendar. We moved our dinner plan up to lunch so he could enjoy it as well, he did park and ride, bless him, and after getting the kids off to bed, I finished reading Vera Brosgol’s Plain Jane and the Mermaid.

It was weird.

Here’s the thing, though–it was weird in a totally good, let’s-stop-letting-society-judge-us-by-our-looks kind of way. (Also in a ‘includes the character of a mighty water demon who looks like a somewhat demonic, fishy version of Toad from The Wind in the Willows‘ kind of way.) Jane’s infatuation with Peter-the-Pretty-Boy has a creative conclusion, the mermaids are an interesting mix, and the resolution of her (Jane’s) inheritance problems made me giggle. Plain Jane is a creative, unexpected gem of a story, and I’m looking forward to seeing what my girlies think of it.

In the meantime, I have slept badly the past few nights, so apparently the medication for restless leg syndrome I’d run out of works better than I’d realized. Thankfully, I got in to see the doctor and got refills today, so I have hopes for tonight. Wish me luck!

The 90s in September are miserable, folks. Miserable! And according to the forecast, that’s what we’re getting today…and tomorrow…AND Sunday.

Ugh.

On the other hand, yesterday I bit the bullet and committed myself to finishing Margarita Engle’s Rima’s Rebellion: Courage in a Time of Tyranny, which required more concentration than I’ve felt capable of lately. Engle is a poet first and a novelist second, so part of the problem is just that lyrical verse is harder in my current stage of life; Rima’s Rebellion, however, was harder for me to concentrate on than Engle’s other novels have been, and while some of that may be personally situational, so to speak, I think the novel’s time frame is also a factor. When you start out in 1923 and end up in 1936, you’re attempting to cover a big chunk of time; when that chunk of time covers both the coming of age period in a girl’s life and the most important years of the fight for women’s suffrage in a dictatorship, a verse novel of less than two hundred pages may not have enough words to fully realize the task. (Yes, I used two semi-colons too close together; today I just don’t care.*) Rima is also illegitimate, and that adds another significant issue into the mix. I think I would have preferred a regular novel for the purpose, you know? Except that Engle IS a poet, and she’s the one out there writing for teens about Cuba’s history, and that’s something worth doing, and–well, I imagine she has to do it her way. To be fair, I found the concept of las mambisas even more fascinating than the intricacies surrounding the issue of ‘natural’ children, so it isn’t as if the reading experience was boring. I think I might have actually done better if I’d tried reading one or two poems (of a page or three each) a night, EVERY night.

Bottom line? Rima’s Rebellion covers a fascinating topic with poeticism. Whether or not her intended audience is going to appreciate it, I honestly don’t know; what I do know is that it’s completely worth reading, but it’s going to take more concentration than most works of youth fiction.

You can do with that what you will.

*You see what I did there…

Yesterday I finally decided to bite the bullet and order a right-hand wrist brace for what I suspect is a worsening case of carpal tunnel in my right arm–because of course, back when I had what my OB called ‘pregnant carpal tunnel,’ it was in my left wrist, and so THAT brace isn’t doing me any good. I ordered three because a)I wasn’t sure which reasonably priced one would be best and b)if I hit over $25 of qualifying items–and they all qualified–it was supposed to be same-day delivery.

Guess what didn’t come yesterday.

On the up side, all three did come before 8:10 this morning, when I left to walk my youngest to school, and I’m thinking I’ll keep two of them. On the downside, wearing one while typing doesn’t seem to be a practical possibility, so the tingly-numb-sort-of-pain is real. My hubby and I did have a really positive conversation with our oldest last night, though, and so I’m still feeling pretty good about life today. AND I finished reading Angela Cervantes’ Gaby, Lost and Found aloud to my 15-year-old the night before, so that’s another up. If we’d known that it’s connected to Lety Out Loud but takes place before it we would have read them in chronological order, but oh, well. It wasn’t a huge deal.

The two books have a good bit in common–both have female main characters who love animals and are volunteering (with their classmates) at an animal shelter–but their conflicts differ; Lety has a solid home life but is struggling with her classmates, while Gaby has a wider friend circle but a difficult home life. Her dad returned to stay with her after her mom was deported, but he’s not amazing at parenting and Gaby’s just holding on until her mom can home…except that crossing the border illegally is dangerous, and so the situation is more complicated than Gaby wants it to be. Add to that a special cat with returning owners that may be worse at pet-care than her dad is at parenting, and you have difficulties all around. The resolution is positive yet imperfect, making it realistic in a way that didn’t spoil the book for my tender-hearted 15-year-old but tore at my mother-heart a bit.

Bottom line? This is a solid book that does a lovely job of building empathy; every kid really ought to read it.

I survived two things, actually. I survived the SEPs, the long day at our niece’s wedding on Friday, and a good start into a major closet clean-out on Saturday–plus a fire with tinfoil dinners on Sunday–AND I survived the adolescent romance that I was vetting for my 15-year-old, who is FAR more easily embarrassed than I was at her age. (Which is baffling, because I’m far more open about sex with her than my mother was with me.) Kisses and Croissants is one of the titles that came up when I looked up books similar to the last clean teen romance she read, and given that she’s doing French on Duolingo AND she loves dance, it seemed like the perfect choice. I’m expecting her to be completely into it–and why shouldn’t she be? It isn’t the book’s fault that I’m at least two decades too old for it.

Kisses and Croissants follows Mia to Paris during the summer before her senior year in high school, where she’s participating in a prestigious ballet program. Her long-term ballet rival happens to be there too, of course, and further complications ensue as she researches a family legend and gets involved with a cute French boy. Did I roll my eyes a lot? Absolutely. Most of what I rolled my eyes at, however, was normal teenage behavior, and the ending has depth in its resolution. If you want a clean teenage romance for your teenage daughter, this is a solid option. I’ll let you know what she thinks!

In the meantime, I need to find a dinner plan, so I’m going to get on with my day. What are you having?

Not that those are the ONLY things happening this week–it’s just that each of my kiddos is getting done on a different night this year, due to my oldest daughter’s work schedule and church youth activities, not to mention the difficulties of getting kids to dance. I’m the sort of person who really, really doesn’t like having things four evenings in a row, you know? I’d rather get things done first thing in the morning.

On the other hand, I went to the temple this morning and I’ve managed errands on Monday and Tuesday, so there’s that. And there’s no school on Friday! Now, if I can only work out our October travel plans to everyone’s satisfaction…

And it’s not even a full month late–go me! The ‘it’, of course, is my 15-year-old’s birthday graphic novel, which I finished–and then ordered–yesterday. Cassandra Calin’s The New Girl is the big winner (despite my lingering feeling that Lia’s pose and expression on the cover is eerily reminiscent of a pin-up from the ’40s or ’50s). It is, apparently, a semi-autobiographical tale of immigration to Canada from Romania, and it portrays with both poignancy and humor the difficulties of change, of learning a new language, and of balancing homesickness with the need to step into the new life that is–no matter how you feel about it–yours. It also deals with the unpleasant reality of early periods, in a way that’s both relatable and important. Add to that some well-handled friend issues, and you have a book for teen girls that entertains–AND matters. (And that is coming to live at my house!)

In other news, I’m desperately glad it’s the weekend–AND that my oldest isn’t working for it. We could all use some sleep and R&R! I do need to come up with a meal plan for tonight AND do enough laundry that my jaunt to a midday bridal shower tomorrow won’t throw me badly off-schedule, but those are both doable…ESPECIALLY when there are NO 90s in the 7-day forecast. WAHOO!!!!!!

I started reading Barbara Carroll Roberts’ Nikki on the Line aloud to my now-15-year-old because she picked it from a handful of choices; after the first couple of reading sessions, however, she “wasn’t that into it” and opted to move on to something else. I finally finished it myself day before yesterday, and I have to say–it was definitely her loss. Barbara Carroll Roberts’ debut novel is good.

To be fair, my girlie (as far as I know) has zero interest in playing basketball; I’m not actually sure how much she knows about the sport. She’s possibly my girliest girl when it comes to her hobbies, and dance is definitively her athletic activity of choice. That said, I was never particularly into basketball, either–I played church ball when our youth group played because, well, that’s what you did; I didn’t hate the game, but I hated how bad we were compared to most of the groups we played. The only sport I’ve ever played for fun is volleyball. Of course, having played church basketball, I have a basic working knowledge that my daughter possibly lacks, but perhaps more importantly, I frequently enjoy sports in literature. I may find, for example, watching baseball to be (at best) unexciting, but a pivotal game in a well-written book can keep me on the edge of my seat. Perhaps it’s my competitive streak?*

Anyway. The point is that I was a bit surprised my girlie wasn’t into Nikki, because it’s well written and blends humor and pathos quite nicely. Yeah, it’s about basketball, but haven’t we all had something we were good at, only to find that we reached a point when the competition got harder and we suddenly didn’t seem as good as we’d always thought we were? Add to that something about our family that feels embarrassing, plus a hyper younger sibling and some shifting friend dynamics, and there’s something for just about everyone in Nikki. I’m old enough to have grown impatient during her (completely realistic) bout of self-pity, but it was a pleasure to cheer her on as she figured out how to deal with a set of new challenges. In MY opinion, there’s something in this book for everyone, and I highly recommend it.

Now, to find out if Roberts has written anything else…

*My apologies for how scattered this paragraph is–I’m too tired to change it!

Remember when my deep freeze decided to temporarily not freeze over the summer? I still have food sort of divided between before and after, with before things like popsicles being added to smoothies, and before things like meat being, well–used up. (Because it didn’t thaw all the way, so it’s not spoiled, and I’m just too cheap to toss it all.) Yesterday, since my hubby was home for it, we tried these Grilled Kansas City Pork Chops for dinner, doing 5 pork chops instead of six because a)my oldest was at work and b)it’s what we had anyway. The rub got a little intense with only 5, although that may have also been because paprika isn’t my favorite…who knows. (By-the-by, I used smoked paprika because I like it better than sweet.) Overall, though, if you discounted the occasional freezer-y tasting bits around the edges, they were pretty good–although only my 15-year-old said she wanted them again. (Of course, my 9-year-old’s food votes are not to be relied on.) I think it probably comes down to whether the recipe sounds good to you–if it does, you’ll probably enjoy it, whereas if it doesn’t sound like your thing, you probably won’t.

Deep, right?

Because it didn’t feel like it. My oldest made a normal teenage mistake and then reacted in a way that made it clear her mental health has taken a nosedive, which isn’t really surprising when you consider her personality and the level of responsibility–both physical and emotional–she carries at the new job she started on the first day of school.

Which new job is turning out to see her coming home between 9:45 and 10:15–on at least one school night a week.

Did I mention that this is the child who struggles to sleep but desperately needs a certain amount of it to function well?

Anyway. We’ve been trying to help and take care of her (as well as, of course, her siblings, because they’re ALL our job), and that plus a range of other commitments has made for a busier week than I’d originally anticipated. We adjust, right? It’s just that my midweek blog post was one of the things that got adjusted out, so to speak.

The kicker is that I still need to get to Costco and back before the kiddos get home from school (and Friday is still early day for two of them), and so today’s book review is going to be short (although I will try not to phone it in, so to speak). A short review for a short book, right? I read The Friendship Matchmaker aloud with my youngest, and she was surprisingly into it; I, on the other hand, wasn’t expecting something quite so–tongue-in-cheek? Satirical? Yes, the concept of a school ‘friendship matchmaker’–one with a manual and specific rules to follow for the matchees–isn’t exactly straight realistic fiction, but still. Lara’s commitment to taking herself seriously is completely enjoyable for adults as well as kids, and if the ending is surprisingly low on drama–improbably so–it makes for a more fun reading experience. (Honestly, it felt a little like a re-write of a pivotal scene from Harriet the Spy with positive, likable kids.) The showdown between two ways of being (as represented by Lara and new student Emily) is actually seriously insightful, and yet it’s couched in the sort of humor that completely obscures the fact that solid life skills are being presented and analyzed. If you have elementary school kids, they may well get a kick out of this–and if you’ve ever had to deal with your elementary schoolers’ friend dramas, you probably will, too.

This past weekend was a strange mixture of relaxation and frenetic activity; the three girls and I went to my niece’s bridal shower on Saturday morning, which was relaxing and involved a good deal of enjoyable visiting; on the other hand, I wrote out recipes as part of our gift, and THAT involved a somewhat frustrating trip to Michael’s and a busy evening the night before. Saturday afternoon was all about laundry and tidying and household chores, and we taught Sunday School on Sunday; we had dinner in Clearfield, however, and my 15-year-old made our dessert, so I only had to bring and cut up a watermelon before focusing on eating and playing games. And yesterday my son helped me make his (very belated) birthday breakfast, after which I did dishes and more chores and went to Walmart with my oldest, but then a friend came over and we watched a movie with her while I cross-stitched, which was nice. When she left, however, it was back to chores again! This morning is a more straightforward day of chores and more chores and more chores; at least, however, I’ve gotten off to a good start.

And SPEAKING of that good start, I finished reading Kevin Henkes’ Oh, Sal aloud with my 9-year-old the other day, and since I’ll be returning library books later, I figured I’d best get it ready to go back. I have mixed feelings about Kevin Henkes’ non-picture-book offerings–he’s such a genius with few words that it’s like the more he uses, the more uneven the effect becomes–but the Miller family books are written for early elementary school readers, and I’ve tended to like them better as a result. Sal features Billy Miller’s younger sister–Billy has two books of his own with Sal as a supporting character–dealing with eminently relatable post-Christmas difficulties. Haven’t we all struggled with a particular relative and misplaced a gift we loved? (Not necessarily at the same time, yes, but haven’t we?) Sal is understandably upset, although experienced parents will likely suspect a bit of an adrenaline crash as well. She’s ALSO dealing with a new baby in the family, which is another doozy. How it all works out made for fun reading with my youngest, and while my personal tastes run more towards the true middle grade novel, Sal is excellent fare for its target audience.