Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

It’s the first week of summer, folks! Today my lovely mother-in-law came down to take my tween to the orthodontist while I took my son to a different appointment, and she stayed to play games and take us to lunch! At the Pizza Pie Cafe, no less, which meant I didn’t bother making dinner–I didn’t know how many people would even want to eat. We had apples and whole wheat bread and then went to get shaved ice from my middles’ former fourth grade teacher’s stand; there was a park behind the stands and food trucks, so the kids played afterward and I chilled on a bench for a while. Now people are taking turns in the shower and getting off to bed, which means I get to sit down and review Lisa Graff’s The Great Treehouse War, which we listened to on Memorial Day while driving home from Idaho.

I have to say, it made pretty great road trip material.

The basic premise is fairly simple–Winnie’s (divorced) parents’ obsessive competition with each other makes Winnie’s life so unbearable that she finally takes to her treehouse and refuses to come down until they talk with her together. Her friends–each with his or her own parental demands, none nearly as reasonable as Winnie’s–come up to join her, and voila! An epic standoff. My tween and I were captivated by the story, and the other three kids paid a good amount of attention to it as well. As a reader, I was completely entertained, even if it wasn’t exactly realistic; as a parent, I quite enjoyed the ego boost that came from comparing Winnie’s parents to myself. (They made me look amazing.) I honestly had issues with the ending–the parents weren’t properly repentant–but given the whole concept of the book, it worked. (If everything is over the top, complaining about nuances of realism isn’t really productive, right?) Upper elementary and middle schoolers–and their parents!–should enjoy this one.

Of a sort, that is. You may have guessed that the kiddos and I were out of town over most of Memorial Day weekend–I got to attend the temple with much of my side of the family, since my brother’s oldest son went through for the first time, and then we got to listen to my sister’s youngest daughter speak in church before starting at-home missionary training. (By the way, she’s currently got Covid, so keep her in your prayers, please.) In between, I went through some boxes and papers in my parents’ computer/sewing/junk room and unpacked/recycled/organized. I confess, there was an initial ulterior motive–I wanted to be able to set up an air mattress in there–but my mother had become overwhelmed with the level of stuff piling up, especially since my father’s last fall resulted in a T12 compression fracture and a need for more of her time. I didn’t finish the job–not by any stretch of the imagination–but I did manage to at least make a difference. We drove home on Monday and I spent the rest of the week catching up on housework and laundry and unearthing and then using my craft desk. I’ve decided that right now, offering some of my time each week for family history work will be more successful if I work on our own family history, and to that end I’ve been putting family and school pictures in scrapbooks, putting extras aside in a labelled envelope, and throwing away the garbage produced by the effort. My family loves looking at the pictures, my pile of clutter decreases, and we have a record of our growth. What’s not to love?

Anyway. I also managed to read Hope Larson’s Salt Magic this week, and when I failed to make a review happen yesterday, I decided I’d better not wait ANOTHER day before doing so and passing it on. (I have that graphic-novel-loving-12-year-old, you’ll recall.) I haven’t read anything else by Larson, but Salt Magic seems different than what I’ve seen of her work. You could call it historical magical fiction, I suppose–the story begins with Vonceil’s brother returning from WWI to marry a local girl and settle down, and Vonceil is NOT PLEASED. She and her brother had a special bond, but now he’s occupied with Amelia and focused on his future. When a glamorous–and mysterious–woman comes to town to see him, however, Vonceil discovers that Elber’s choices have brought magical disaster down on their farm and family; luckily, she has the courage and determination to rescue them all, learning to reevaluate her own priorities in the process. It’s not an unqualified happily-ever-after, but it strikes a deeper chord because of that.

On the other hand, I struggled with the thinness of the world-building. There’s not enough about history to make Salt Magic‘s historical fiction aspect truly meaningful, and yet the magical process and progression felt arbitrary to me. I doubt my 12-year-old will be overly bothered–she’s a bigger fan of realistic fiction and is going to care more about what happens with the characters’ relationships–but fantasy fans may not be so impressed. All in all, Larson’s fans may be the best audience for this one; as for me, I’ll try her ‘Eagle Rock’ trilogy and see if I enjoy it more. If you’ve read it, let me know what YOU think!

We inherited Victoria Forester’s The Girl Who Could Fly when my husband’s Uncle Dieter died. He was a lovely man and a voracious reader in his second language–which I find incredibly impressive–but he rarely read youth fiction; I’m not sure how or why he ended up with Forester’s book, but I would probably not have gotten around to it if he hadn’t had it on one of his many bookshelves. As it is, Stephenie Meyer’s cover blurb is surprisingly apt; she called it “the oddest/sweetest mix of Little House on the Prairie and X-Men.”*

Indeed.

Piper McCloud is from a close-knit farming community which prefers to do things the way they’ve always been done; this becomes problematic for her parents when she starts to float before her first birthday. Despite their valiant efforts to keep her grounded, Piper teaches herself to fly, which ultimately lands her in a top-secret school for those with special abilities. What happens there, of course, will change her world forever, because that’s how this sort of story works; how it happens, however, is utterly compelling. (Not so much my thing, I grant you, but compelling.) The Girl Who Could Fly should satisfy a goodly number of young readers, so check it out; for myself, I keep wondering what Dieter thought of it.

*Yes, I’m aware that I just used two semi-colons in a row. I tend toward semi-colons and I’ve decided not to fight the urge or make the effort to change things up today, because I put in my garden this morning and I’m poopered. Prepare for ALL the semi-colons…

We actually slept up at my in-laws’ on Saturday night, because one nephew’s graduation party was Saturday evening and another recently-returned-missionary nephew spoke in church on Sunday; the nice thing was that we were home by 5:30 or so on Sunday evening, so all the kiddos could get to bed early. (Three of them slept over with cousins on Saturday night, too, so they ALL needed it.) Today I managed laundry and Costco and dishes and jam, mostly because I bought Melona bars at Costco and while fitting them in the freezer decided that I couldn’t take the presence of that last gallon Ziploc of grapes in the freezer for one more day. One batch was all grape; one had to be supplemented with some frozen strawberries and grated Granny Smith apple to make up the amount. We’ll see which one the family likes better!

I first came across The Hero Next Door when I was checking our library system to see if R.J. Palacio had any books we hadn’t yet read. Short stories are rarely my thing, but a short story anthology about everyday heroes–many of them kids–is balm to the soul in today’s world, and given that I recognized at least 5 of the contributing authors (two of which are Newbery winners), I took the plunge.

And? It was completely worth it. Give this to your kids, students, nieces, nephews, grandkids, godkids, whomever, because I cried, I laughed out loud, and reading it made my heart happy. Now I want to go look at what else has been published in partnership with We Need Diverse Books, because what better way to showcase unity through diversity than to show kids of all ages, backgrounds, and cultures needing and being heroes?

In other news, last night’s band concert was a fun one, and today? Not only did I get to go to the temple, but I saw my aunt and uncle while I was there. Win-win! Now, let’s all cross our fingers for the kiddos’ piano recital tomorrow…

Mostly she survived because I handed over the most recent BSC graphic novel today, but I’ll take what I can get, right? In any case. We’re deep in the throes of May–a junior high awards ceremony tonight, a 4th grade field trip to go on tomorrow and a junior high band concert tomorrow night, a piano recital Friday (not to mention a temple appointment on Thursday), and a garden to plant on Saturday before a graduation party. Then my recently-returned missionary nephew speaking in church, and next week starts the appointment craze. Life!

In the meantime, I liked last night’s Chicken Coconut Korma enough to want to make it again–I like the creamier Thai sort of curry, as long as it’s mild–but it didn’t go over particularly well with the kiddos. (OR my hubby.) Sadness! And because it’s 9:14, you get a quick review of Alan Brennert’s Moloka’i, which I started once in RI when my oldest was a toddler and then immersed myself in last week once I realized that it was immediately available on audio and the cessation of dance for the summer meant I could actually attend the Zoom book group discussion about it. (Trying to manage doing so while ferrying my 12-year-old to dance rarely worked.) I learned interesting things about the history of leprosy in Hawaii, was moved by Rachel’s experiences as well as by those of her loved ones, and found listening to it to be an entirely positive experience. (Saying I enjoyed the book feels weird, somehow.) Ultimately, it’s a story of a girl sent away from her family as a 6-year-old because of her disease and the fullness of the life that she makes for herself, disease and all. I’m taking some time before listening to the sequel–an 18 hour audiobook makes for a lot of time spent within a leper colony, even if I did get a bunch of painting and laundry done–but I’d say this is thoroughly worth your time.*

*Possibly look for it in your library, though…its availability to purchase seems to be hit or miss, depending on the format you’re looking for!

This is why I’m reviewing Best Friends for Never (Katie the Catsitter #2) at this moment, folks–because my twelve-year-old might die if she has to wait another hour for it. I gave her the first one for Christmas and at the time, the second book wasn’t out yet; once it came out and she FOUND out, however, she’s been–ahem!–a trifle eager to get her hands on it. Thankfully, I did manage to finish it before dinner, and so here we are! (I might have finished it earlier, except that I spent almost three hours painting doors and trim today and then had a shorter-than-usual wait at the elementary school because that same eager twelve-year-old missed the bus and had to be retrieved.)

Luckily, it was a fun read–every bit as fun as the first book, in fact. There’s a nice nod to feelings, a hero twist or two, and a lurking British baking show. What’s not to love? Friend problems proliferate for a bit, but resolution prevails; I’m guessing my eager twelve-year-old will love this one.

My children are the perfect age for Mother’s Day, folks. My littles came in around 7:30 to wish me happy mother’s day, and then my son asked me when I wanted breakfast in bed. I told him anytime would be fine, and so he left his 7-year-old sister behind with “The Kid Book of Awesome Jokes” (or something) as my “entertainment” while I waited. So she told me jokes–I eventually pulled her in to snuggle with me while she did it–until her 9-year-old brother brought me 1)watery hot chocolate, 2)a piece of wheat toast, very scantily spread with butter and jam, 3)a small bowl of spray whipped cream, with some caramel sauce on one side for hair and a smile made out of chocolate chips, and 4)a parfait of spray whipped cream and pieces of a chocolate covered wafer bar from Trader Joe’s, with a “prize” at the bottom.

The prize was a mallow-topped Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.

It’s hard to say whether it was literally or figuratively sweeter, because while even I can’t easily handle that much sugar at breakfast-time, my son brought it for me with no help from older siblings, and that was fabulous. My oldest made me a personalized coloring page–something I told her I wanted when she made one for her youngest sister on her birthday–and my 12-year-old brought me a separate breakfast tray when she woke up. It did actually have three varieties of fruit–mandarin oranges, banana slices, and a small bowl of bottled peaches–but it also had alternating marshmallows and Wiley Wallaby’s red licorice.

Maybe I need to be more discreet about my sweet tooth.

Anyway. I saw my mother-in-law and talked to my own mother, and my husband got me a quirky sort of present that made me smile. I am blessed.

And in other news, I finished reading Megabat and the Not-Happy Birthday aloud to my 7-year-old last week, and it was a cute maybe-end to the series. (It was published recently enough that I’m not ruling out the possibility of more, you understand.) Some normal-but-difficult feelings arise and mistakes are made, but all is well that ends well! Fans of Megabat will definitely enjoy this one.

My 12-year-old, who still loves me reading aloud to her, is generally not excited by nonfiction. (To be fair, neither was I at her age.) This means that I don’t get to share my passion for history with her, and that’s okay; we share other things. She IS, however, an animal lover, and so we occasionally read a Sibert winner together (that would be the Robert F. Sibert Informational Book Award, which includes a yearly Medal winner as well as various Honor books, like the Newbery). We finished reading one of those tonight–another Sy Montgomery and Nic Bishop collaboration called The Quest for the Tree Kangaroo: An Expedition to the Cloud Forest of New Guinea–and I lost count of how many times I heard “Oh, they’re so CUTE!” as we read. I have to say, I enjoyed the last book we read by the two of them more than this one (something about kakapo parrots), but this one was still completely interesting (I apparently just prefer rescue expeditions to exploratory ones). The photos of the cloud forest were possibly as appealing to me as the photos of the tree kangaroos were to my girlie; I would LOVE to visit there. If you have an animal lover in your household, however, he or she is likely to love this one.

By the by, I’m well aware that this is rather a poorly written review; I’m just too tired to do better in the time I have as well as unwilling to put it off. My apologies! My oldest took her first AP test this past week, and after enjoying a church women’s conference this morning, I’ve been playing chore catch-up ever since. Here’s hoping for a slightly calmer week…

I normally don’t review books that I’ve skimmed before handing down to my children–reading first and handing a book down isn’t quite the same thing–but I have to give a shout-out to Lenore Look’s Alvin Ho series. If you have an elementary-aged boy, you know how hard it is to find good books that appeal to boys but DON’T depend on bathroom humor; Alvin Ho, however, is a perfect example of boys’ literature done right. First of all, he’s hilarious. Secondly, we see his siblings through his eyes (not to mention the rest of his family). And thirdly through whatever number-ly, he’s a NOT white kid growing up in an area that’s positively crawling with colonial history, and the juxtaposition is fabulous. (Plus he struggles with anxiety, and I LOVE the way Look deals with it.) My son and I are both completely bummed that we’ve run out of new Alvin Ho books, so if you have a boy in elementary school and you’re looking for a worthwhile book to put into his hands, look no further.