Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

Man, the time change is killing me this year…which is why I missed my last post. By the time I remembered (and had time), it was late enough that I didn’t have it in me to put off going to bed. And while that was a little unfortunate, since I’m now up to three finished books waiting for reviews again, it was still the better choice!

Anyway. This morning–while parked at the school, waiting to pick up my kindergartener–I finished Measuring Up, a fairly new graphic novel by Lily LaMotte and Ann Xu. I can’t remember how it came onto my radar, but I’m glad it did; it’s not always easy to find solidly appropriate graphic novels that aren’t starting to trend a little young for my sixth grader. Not that this will be in any way challenging for her, you understand, but its themes of moving, missing a loved family member, and trying to simultaneously assimilate to a new culture while honoring your cultural identity aren’t little kid themes. (Seeing them come together in a cooking contest, moreover, was especially fun; I watched a LOT of the Food Network when I was nursing/feeding babies.) Cici’s American journey is definitely not as difficult as some I’ve read about, but moving to a new country is never easy. This is a fun and thought-provoking addition to any middle grade graphic novel collection!

Also, I’m sorry to end two paragraphs in a row with exclamation points. For some reasons they both felt warranted, but I know the combination is awkward. Some days, you know?

Seriously, though. Ada Twist and the Perilous Pants? What’s not to love?

Really, upon reading it, not much.

I actually enjoyed this better than the first “Questioneers” book. Not only was the rescue of Uncle Ned more exciting, but Ada’s interactions with her family pleased me. The explanations of forces at work probably went a bit over my 6-year-old’s head (I read it aloud to her), but they were still geared toward the intended audience without being condescending. If you were on the fence about continuing with the series, do it! Now, since tonight we spring forward and I have a meeting at 7:30 tomorrow morning, I’M going to go shower and go to bed. Pleasant dreams!

Last Friday I finished reading the sequel to The Higher Power of Lucky aloud to my 11-year-old, and oh, how we enjoyed it! Lucky Breaks picks up within a year of where Higher Power ends, and so we have Lucky helping Brigitte with her new Cafe (imagine that accent!), Lincoln preparing to enter a knot-tying contest, and Miles finally reading on his own. Enter a new (female) friend for Lucky, a ridiculous tale told to Miles and Lincoln (even my hubby, who happened to be in the room, was laughing in sheer disbelief), Chesterfield in the flesh, and a somewhat ill-fated adventure at an old well, and you get a beautiful blend of adventure, relationships, conversation, and feelings, wrapped up in a package that ought to appeal to other mothers and daughters as much as it did to my daughter and me. How does Susan Patron do it? Neither “Lucky” book I’ve read thus far is terribly long, and yet she packs in all of the important things in her very own signature way. Her Hard Pan trilogy is shaping up to be incredible all the way through; I’ll let you know for sure after my girlie and I both finish the book we started while waiting for the last book to come in at the library and actually read that last book. In the meantime, I cleaned up half of the closet area of our bedroom yesterday (with help), and I’m off to attack the other half today. Wish me luck!

I actually chose not to write a post on Sunday because by the time we got back from dinner and FHE at my in-laws’, and I got all of the kiddos to bed, AND I managed my exercising, it was late enough that I really just needed to shower and go to bed. It was unfortunate, though, because now I have three completed books waiting to be reviewed, plus almost a fourth (I just have the end-of-book informational bits to read to my kindergartener today), and I read more than half of a graphic novel last night, which means it’s going to be joining the pile sooner rather than later.

Not that finishing books is a bad thing, mind you. It was just a bad day to miss a review.

Anyway.

SO. Last night I finished Russell Freedman’s Kids at Work: Lewis Hine and the Crusade Against Child Labor, and it was thoroughly fascinating. I learned all sorts of interesting things, from how Lewis Hine got into photography (he’d ended up a teacher and was asked to take pictures of school events) to what he did after his 10 years with the National Child Labor Committee (the American Red Cross sent him to France in 1918), as well as a more detailed record of what he did in-between. Freedman uses Hine’s photographs liberally throughout, and they never fail to capture attention; neither does the information given about the history of child labor in this country. This I would HIGHLY recommend.

Okay, there’s no maybe about it–I’m definitely not punky enough. To be punky enough, I’d have to BE punky, right? But as much as I did enjoy The First Rule of Punk–and I did–I didn’t love it quite the way I wanted to. Partly it was because I wanted to shake Malu (imagine that accent over the u) AND her mom, because if they’d both made an effort to understand the other’s point of view, well…there wouldn’t have been a book? (Possibly.) I also found myself wondering–is being kind punk? Because if it’s not, then we need to modify the idea of punk. Malu does find her own way there, more or less, but perhaps I just got tired of her holding up the idea of punk to herself so constantly. (Also, if wearing clean clothes isn’t punk, that’s a problem. Your mom objecting to the look of your clothes is one thing; your mom enforcing hygiene expectations is something else entirely.)

I think I may have read this book with one leg in my cranky I’m-41-and-oh-my-GOSH-middle-schoolers pants.

Ultimately, it made me happy to see Malu make friends and stretch herself, and I certainly enjoyed the ranchera music I googled in my eternal quest for more context. (Much more than the Ramones song, I confess.) And while the mother/daughter behavior and relationship frustrated me, I’m certain it’s totally relatable for many. As a mom, I found the lack of consequences for the (admittedly relatively tame) lying troubling, but–anyway. Malu’s journey is a relatable one, and this is a solid read for middle schoolers. I’m looking forward to the virtual discussion with our mother/daughter library reading group!

1. French Onion Sun Chips didn’t do it for me.
2. I went to an informational meeting today that was kept under 15 minutes. It was BEAUTIFUL.
3. I have a book problem.
4. Also a puzzle problem.
5. The steamed dumplings from Costco were a serious hit among the littles.
6. Why are children so opposed to going to the bathroom when there is literally NO DOWNSIDE?
7. Any ideas on what to have for dinner tomorrow?

I finished Erin Entrada Kelly’s We Dream of Space recently, and seeing the historical fiction symbol on the spine when I remember witnessing the historical event the book was centered around was–trippy. (And not really in a good way.) Still, I suppose 1986 really was rather a while ago, and my memories of the “Challenger” explosion are vague. I remember being in my elementary school cafeteria with the rest of the school; I remember that we were watching it live. I remember that feeling of something bad happening. That’s about the extent of it.

I was 6 1/2.

In Entrada Kelly’s Newbery Honor-winning novel, Bird Thomas and her science teacher both are eagerly anticipating the “Challenger” launch. Bird’s brothers–her angry twin, Fitch, and her older brother Cash, who failed 7th grade and is now in the same class as both of his siblings–don’t care much one way or another, and for her parents, it’s just something else for them to argue about. (They argue a lot–loudly. Using language and names that they expect their own children never to say.) Bird is quiet, but is nevertheless the most positive person of her entire household; she tries to effect small changes for good in whatever ways she can find. When tragedy strikes, however, and Bird is leveled by it, her brothers find themselves groping towards a kind of sibling caring and protectiveness that seemed lost to them.

Okay, as summaries go, that wasn’t bad. How I felt about the book, though–I’m not sure I have any idea how to express that. There was, of course, the dread–anticipating takes up a great deal of mental and emotional energy for me, and when you spend a good 3/4 of the book knowing that poor Bird is going to be devastated by what happens to the Challenger–not to mention being horrified on behalf of the astronauts themselves–it’s wearing. It’s also painful for me as a parent to witness such bad parenting; even Elsa’s parents in “Frozen” seem to WANT to do the right thing (however abysmal they turn out to be at it). Bird’s parents are absorbed with themselves, their grievances (petty and otherwise), and–what else? Not their children, not quite appearances, not quite…I don’t know.

I was really, really angry with the parents.

Here’s the thing. I’m not sure I enjoyed reading We Dream of Space, and I’m not quite sure who I’d recommend it to. I think kids with disconnected families or parents who make home life unpleasant in garden variety ways might relate, but how does one go about recommending to that specific group? So much of the book made me hurt for the people in it, fictional and otherwise. On the other hand, despite rather a loose plot, it engaged me; I was driven to keep on with it. It’s written VERY well, and I think it’s actually an impressive story. It’s just–kind of sad. Honestly, I really want to know what its intended audience thinks of it.

Anyone?

I’ve had Heather Vogel Frederick’s Absolutely Truly (A Pumpkin Falls Mystery) checked out of the library for who knows how long–and isn’t that the story of my life? Anyway. I think my friend Andrea may have recommended it to me, or at least brought it to my attention, and when I heard the premise–girl and her family move into a small New England town and girl embarks, among other things, on a quest to solve a decades-old and somewhat literary mystery–I checked it out immediately. Ostensibly, of course, because my oldest loves mysteries, but really, of course, because of New England. (Also the story of my life.) Interestingly enough, that part was mixed for me, because Truly Lovejoy is thrilled to be settling in Austin and not at ALL happy when her father is wounded by an IED and their family ends up in his childhood home in New Hampshire. Intellectually I can accept that some people may (okay, do) prefer Texas to New Hampshire, but emotionally, I am unable to conceptualize it. Truly complains about their move off and on all book long, and I couldn’t relate. (To be fair, she is obviously much more upset about her father’s injury and his emotional recovery.)

Anyway. I did enjoy Truly’s family’s bookstore–indeed, I enjoyed Truly’s family–and the mystery was interesting without being unrealistically dangerous. Reading about covered bridges and old farmhouses will always make me homesick, but Absolutely Truly was an enjoyable read, and middle graders (girls more than boys) ought to like it.*

*Except, of course, it was actually a listen; it sat on my shelf until the library acquired it in audio, as so many things do. Thank heaven for audio!

I was totally going to review a book for you tonight, folks, but I unearthed my craft desk today for the first time in years (literal years, you understand), and instead I put multiple years worth of class pictures in their proper places in our family scrapbooks. And while technically there is time–it’s only 10:10-ish–my hubby’s got an 8:00 meeting in the morning, so I’m going to choose the better part and get into the shower earlier. In the meantime, my bookends–my eldest and my youngest, that is–look astonishingly alike when you allow for age and haircut.

Wahoo, folks–I finished ANOTHER book that’s been languishing on my “Currently Reading” list! As for why it’s been languishing, well, let’s just say that it wasn’t available on audio, and concentration is hard for me, even though it didn’t used to be. (Parenthood.) Which isn’t to say that I wished for it on audio, exactly, because the illustrations are so ridiculously delightful…kind of like the story, honestly. I loved Kelly Jones’ Unusual Chickens for the Exceptional Poultry Farmer, and its sequel–Are You Ready to Hatch an Unusual Chicken?–is just as delightful. Earnest, hardworking Sophie is back, taking watchful care of the chickens she inherited from her Great-Uncle Jim, only now that she’s inherited Redwood Farm from Agnes, she’s also starting to hatch unusual chicks. It’s a lot of work–and there are some very unusual chicks. Can Sophie balance doing her best with asking for help when she needs it?

I could probably give you more, but that’s a perfectly respectable plot summary to be going on with. Katie Kath’s illustrations both crack me up (I love Henrietta’s expression!) and make me teary, and I would love my children to be able to be friends with Sophie and her peeps. (You see what I did there…) If you or your kiddos have an interest in farming or 4-H–or even just animals–or, heck, stories about kids moving and finding friends and being friends–this two book series is most definitely for you.