Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

My nephew is getting married tomorrow, friends, and so after today it’s going to be radio silence (so to speak) for the holiday weekend; at the moment, however, you get a review. (NOT the review I was going to do Monday night, though, because I want to take more time than I currently have with that one.) I finished listening to Rob Buyea’s newest middle grade novel yesterday, and the sooner I review it, the sooner I can pass it off to my kiddos, right? If you’ve read his Mr. Terupt and The Perfect ________ novels, you’re familiar with Buyea’s style; he favors multiple viewpoints, latter elementary or middle school protagonists, and situations that require both assistance and emotional effort to resolve. The Daredevils, unsurprisingly, is no exception. Told by fraternal twins Waylon and Loretta–whose father is a big fan of classic country music–it chronicles the summer before they start middle school. They’ll be apart for much of the day for the first time, and tough Loretta is worried about her brother surviving without her while Waylon wants to prove his ability to do just that. After a summer filled with fire ceremonies, a surprise new friend, relationship adjustments, and more than one unexpected revelation, they both find themselves more able to make their own way.

I did think their journey felt ever-so-slightly rushed, to be honest with you; nothing was missing, but wow, it moved right along. On the other hand, Buyea’s target audience may appreciate that, and this latest offering delivers much of what we’ve come to expect from him while managing NOT to be overly similar to his previous works. Waylon’s passion for woodsmansy things (yes, I’m doing that with the English language today) might not be as easily relatable to readers as his school stories are, but Buyea’s style still delivers plenty of appeal. Take a look at this one!

I was totally going to review a book today, and yet what I want to say in the review is going to take more concentration and emotional energy than I’ve got right now. I’ve spent the day driving my children to appointments (as well as feeding people and getting them to where they’re supposed to be), my oldest is struggling with her mental health in a way that makes my heart hurt, and I feel like I’m sinking a little under the weight of all of the things I should be getting done. I am therefore putting off the book review to run books to the library drive-through–yes, it’s 10:20 pm, I have reasons–and putting off washing my hair until tomorrow, because I still have my scriptures to read and my shower to take, and my body just kind of wants to sleep. I wish rest to all the parents–and to all the children.

To everyone.

I finished listening to Real by Carol Cujec and Peyton Goddard this week, and it was seriously powerful. It’s inspired by true events–Peyton Goddard lives with a level of autism that left her unable to communicate until adulthood–and if you can imagine a mashup of Sharon M. Draper’s Out of My Mind and R.J. Palacio’s Wonder that is authored by Nellie Bly, that’s my best description of the plot. Nothing Charity does is easy, and as she and her supporters work to advocate for those without a voice, I found myself reconsidering my own impressions and assumptions about those around me. If you want a poignant, inspiring, and thought-provoking read for the new year, look no further.

In other news, I attended my Uncle Rick’s funeral today. He was a good man who loved his family, and listening to his daughter and grandson talk about him brought me back to my own experiences with him. Not all adults are excited to focus on kids, but Rick always made a point to interact with me. He was 92 and failing–I know he lived a good, long life–but he will still be missed.

And I am, as ever, reminded how grateful I am for my family.

This year I officially became the kind of mom who wraps a book for her child for Christmas with her bookmark still in it; not cool, maybe, but my son’s too wrapped up in the Battle of the Books to read it immediately, and it was a busy December. I did manage to finish it a day or two after Christmas, however, and it was EXCELLENT. If you haven’t read Jordan Sonnenblick’s The Boy Who Failed Show and Tell, I HIGHLY recommend it. (Apparently I’m all about the caps in 2023, and I should probably mention that I started this post on New Year’s Eve and I’m just now attempting to finish it, because that’s how I’m rolling at the moment.) I recommend it even more highly for boys with anxiety, asthma, or ADD–and their parents. Also teachers? OR boys who love music, have had school struggles, or have reptiles for pets.

Also to everybody. Because I really did like it that much.

Jordan generally has bad luck predicting which teachers he’ll like and which he won’t, but his fourth grade teacher is bad news from the get-go. She isn’t necessarily unrealistic for back in the day, I’m guessing–the book starts in 1978 or ’79–but she horrifies both the parent and the teacher in me. Jordan isn’t necessarily the easiest kid, partly because his asthma medications make him jittery, but his teacher is seriously terrible, which leads to a series of struggles and changes that end up pushing Jordan into a much better space in his life. What kids are going to love, however, is Jordan’s matter-of-fact, beautifully comic narrating style coupled with his every-kid appeal. I’m expecting my son to love this one…once he finishes the Battle of the Books and starts reading other options again. In the meantime, go check it out.

You’ll be glad you did.

So…Christmas was lovely–we are blessed–and two of my sisters-in-law graciously took my kiddos so my hubby and I could have a mini-staycation for our anniversary; now I’m posting because I want the books I’ve finished in 2022 to count for my Goodreads goal, and that involves reviewing them as part of the ‘marking as read’ process.

First up? Chris Barton’s Can I See Your I.D.?: True Stories of False Identities, which I finished yesterday evening. This was a completely interesting read told in second person–as in, “you wonder this, and then you do this”–which I kind of hated but which might well be the best way to tell these stories to a youth audience. Youth? Opinions? The voice aside, learning about ten people who assumed false identities for a wide variety of reasons was neat in an “I sympathize with some of them and am completely baffled by others” kind of way. If the topic interests you, I’d recommend it–it’s short but fascinating.

How about you, folks? Anybody out there all ready for Christmas and just kicking back with your feet up? If so, well–keep that to yourself. Deal?

Anyway. I wrote out Christmas cards this morning before driving all the people all the places and then coming home to feed some of those same people; if I take a minute to review Margarita Engle’s Singing With Elephants now, I’ll be able to check yet another thing off my to-do list, and what’s not to love about that? If you’re an Engle fan, this might feel like a bit of a departure, it being mostly fiction. It does, however, feature a real poet of the time–Gabriela Mistral–and a blend of activism and advocacy, and that has Engle’s name written all over it. Eleven-year-old Oriol is a Cuban immigrant struggling to find a place in her new California home when she happens upon Mistral, who adopts her as a pupil. Mistral’s guidance proves invaluable when a nearby animal needs help, and what follows is a lovely story of love, hope, and a realistic(ish) amount of compromise. Animal and verse novel fans should enjoy this one–although I wouldn’t necessarily recommend a busy December as the ideal time to experience it.

Padma Venkatraman’s Born Behind Bars is another ‘Battle of the Books’ title this year, and I’m so glad that pushed me to read it. (It’s been on my radar, yes, but who knows when/if I would have gotten to it?) It’s a story reminiscent of Soontornvat’s A Wish in the Dark, except that where she marries Thai culture and fantasy, Venkatraman writes fully realistic fiction. Each features a boy who leaves jail–the only world he’s ever known–when still a child, but Venkatraman’s Kabir lives in modern-day India and is hoping to find his father’s family, even though (as far as his mother knows) they know nothing of his existence. Luckily for him, a Roma girl who lives in a tree takes him under her wing and helps him find his way; what transpires is poignant, hopeful, and so good that I can hardly wait to check out more of Venkatraman’s books. Go read this one!

In the meantime, I finally started wrapping yesterday, we have successfully filled our church-cleaning assignment for the month, and I think all I have left to shop for before Christmas is food items. (Of course, since I won’t be in Idaho with my side of the family until mid-January, I’ll still have some shopping to do afterwards.) Good luck in all of your Christmas preparations, and when you’re extra stressed, may you find your peace in Christ.

Y’all know that, right? I mean, I know I’ve mentioned it before. And yet Stephan Pastis’ Mistakes Were Made (Timmy Failure, #1)–which I finished yesterday–left me supremely unimpressed. I went INTO it with high hopes, partly because I so desperately wanted a “Wimpy Kid”-like series to present to my son so he doesn’t just reread “Wimpy Kid”; unfortunately, I found Timmy himself to be just plain unlikable. He’s entertaining, sure, but in a weirdly extreme kind of way, and his complete inability to recognize fault in himself is rivalled only by his singular lack of sympathy, empathy, or compassion for anyone else. The humor seems aimed at adults, and yet as a parent I want no part of Timmy, because who wants their kids to act like that? It would be different if lessons were learned, but I didn’t see that happening, particularly. Instead, Timmy gets all his cases wrong and makes a nuisance of himself. The line between funny and cringy was crossed.

Bottom line? It’s not going under my Christmas tree this–or any other–year.

Tonight I finished reading Don’t Feed the Boy aloud to my 13-year-old, in two sessions no less. She’s a solid animal lover and has been persistent in making time for us to read this one; I liked the book fine, but I enjoyed having her so excited about reading together more. It was an interesting story, certainly–a boy who grows up living at the zoo, since both of his parents work there, befriends a girl who sits and draws the birds. Their friendship is his first real connection outside the zoo, and while she opens up the world for him, he wants desperately to help her find a way out of a bad home situation. That situation drives the action and shows Whit all kinds of things about his zoo life he hasn’t really understood; on the other hand, parts of it felt unreal to me. Not that bad things don’t happen–I know they do–but the tone of the book, and especially the illustrations, contrasted oddly with some of the events. (I’m not going to give away any more than that, but I’d be interested to know what you guys think; my girlie really liked it.) In the meantime, my son woke me up at 4 am because HE woke up and wiggled a loose tooth until it popped out and so he wanted me to help him look for it; I put him off until a more normal hour, but neither one of us fell solidly back asleep again, and I am tired. A good night to you all!

Quick recap? My youngest bloomed into a spectacular rash this week courtesy of the antibiotics she was almost done with; my son had a miserable week due to side effects from the steroid prescribed to help his cough. We have survived, kids have gone to various birthday parties, and I have started actually sealing Christmas cards. Wahoo!

Anyway. Last night was also our ward Christmas party, which was fun. We had dinner, there was a brief activity/presentation, and Santa came at the end; my hubby left right after the kids saw Santa to get a few things done at home, while the younger kids and I stayed and helped clean up. (At least my son and I did.) We finally headed home with leftovers galore, but it was a late night for all of us, made later by the fact that I was so close to the end of “Dragonbreath” #4: Lair of the Bat Monster that I stayed up and finished it. (Luckily, the littles slept in some.) Ursula Vernon is just always such a good time that I couldn’t resist–it’s the expressions AND the writing, and if your elementary schoolers haven’t read any of her books yet, they should definitely go under your Christmas tree. In this one Danny and Wendell end up in the jungle with Danny’s bat researching cousin Steve, where they come across (surprise!) an honest-to-goodness bat monster. Adventures ensue, of course, as you either know or will find out when you read the series; I’m passing it off to my son now, but I look forward to reading and reviewing the next one. Now I’m off to address more Christmas cards!