Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

And since I rarely give my kids books that I haven’t read–if we’re going to own something, I like to be sure it’s worth owning–there’s going to be some mad reading and listening going on in the next couple of weeks. Last night I finished listening to Rodman Philbrick’s Wildfire, which I was hoping might suit my 9-year-old son; it was a thrill ride and a half, but I’m afraid the emotional context and development is going to be a bit beyond him still. Think of it as an older version of the “I Survived” books–he loves those, but he’s a very young fourth grade boy who prefers math to reading, so I’ll hold on to Wildfire for another year or three (depending). Sam and Delphy make for great protagonists and a Maine wildfire an impressive villain. At least one review mentioned a damsel-in-distress aspect, but I didn’t see it that way; both kids contribute skills and grit to their eventual escape. Their partnership grows into friendship without any element of romance, which is wise on Philbrick’s part; adding that in would have been a distraction. (And in case you’re wondering, I just decided to embrace my love of semi-colons today.) If you have a latter-elementary student who loves adventure, this is the book, especially if said student has been enjoying the “I Survived” books for a couple of years; I’m looking forward to my son reading it when he’s old enough to get more out of it than he will now. In the meantime, on to the next gift contender!

My oldest turned 15 this week, folks–FIFTEEN.

I am not ready to have a child with a driver’s permit.

On the other hand, that incredible, 15-year-old girlie of mine has also been having some health issues, and trying to ease those has consumed a fair amount of my mental energy of late. Today, however, I’m reviewing Kayla Miller’s Clash, which I pushed myself to finished yesterday so that my 12-year-old could get her greedy little hands on it. (Little being part of the expression, since she’s slightly taller than her newly 15-year-old sister…although that’s not exactly a Herculean feat.) Kayla Miller’s books about Olive tend towards the cozy side of middle grade graphic novels; the conflicts never get raw, and Olive always has a healthy level of love and support. In Clash, however, the new girl in Olive’s class takes advantage of Olive’s friendly overtures and is downright mean to her in a sly, always-subtle-when-in-front-of-other-people sort of way. Her reasons for her actions and the resolution of the conflict felt too cozy for Nat’s level of meanness, at least to me; I’m a parent, however, and a parent of girls who have had these sort of clashes on occasion. I do think that even the intended audience might find the ‘everybody seems to get along in Olive’s grade’ idea unrealistic (laughable?), but on the other hand, there’s something to be said for showing kids better ways to socialize and deal with conflict than they’re probably experiencing in real life. Ultimately, this is likely to appeal to its intended audience and Olive’s eventual actions are worth emulating; I just don’t think it works as well for parents.

Have a good day, y’all!

For those of you who are singing Whitesnake in their heads right now–you’re welcome. I hope you enjoyed that trip down memory lane! For those of you who are rolling your eyes at my flakiness yet again–yeah, I know. But we’ve had various things going on here, and sometimes mental energy and concentration are hard to come by, you know?

Anyway. Flagging mental energy notwithstanding, last night I finished reading Kelly Jones’ Sauerkraut aloud to my 12-year-old, and I can’t bring myself to let it sit around the house for another week when I could review it tonight and bring it back to the library tomorrow (Tuesday being my current library day). If my review reflects tired, less-than-stellar writing, well–I feel like there’s a lot of that going around lately.

On the bright side, however, my girlie and I both got quite a kick out of Sauerkraut. HD is a thoroughly likable protagonist, and his African-German-American heritage makes for an unusual but fabulous mix. His parents are good, solid parents–we need more of those, in and out of literature–and Eli is the kind of friend I wish more kids had at that age. (Asad, of course, is a typical younger brother. Which is both good AND bad!) More than anyone else, however, it is Oma who steals the show–the ghost of HD’s great-great-grandmother. Her obsession with sauerkraut and her yearning for her family complicate HD’s life at times, but that only makes her character and the ending more delightful. This is a story about heritage, about family and why it matters, about friendship and personal goals and accomplishments–and about sauerkraut. (Also about various other German foods, but mostly sauerkraut. Have I mentioned that I quite enjoy good sauerkraut?) If you’re looking for a Christmas book for a middle school boy who likes computers and his extended family, Sauerkraut is an excellent option. (It’s also a fabulous read if you want to alternately laugh, cry a little, and hit your nearest German deli on the way home.) Enjoy!

In case you’re wondering where I’ve been–because I really didn’t just flake–my hubby and I took the kiddos to see Dude Perfect live in Boise this past Friday. (We’re all fans–some of the kids are hardcore–and while DP still hasn’t come to Salt Lake, Boise’s last minute addition to this year’s tour worked out quite nicely!) We spent some time with family on Saturday, made my cousin’s baby’s blessing Sunday morning, and drove back to Utah in time for Sunday dinner with my in-laws. (A quick trip, I grant you, but we packed it full!) Yesterday I spent time on the phone trying to fix some house issues, time trying to organize basic chore lists for my kids, and time with friends trying to process the idea of going gluten- and dairy-free for a month to see if it helps my oldest with her current tummy issues. (I was feeling overwhelmed.) Today I tackled laundry mountain, hit the library–and finished reading Truly Tyler while waiting to pick the littles up from school. Wahoo! My second oldest hounded me for it for weeks until I let her read it before I was finished (to make up for her missing school for her Covid test); now that I’m finished, I’m sure she’ll do a quick re-read before it goes back to the library. (I think my oldest still cares about Libenson’s “Emmie & Friends” as well, but I guess we’ll see!) In the meantime, I’m relieved to be done trying to read a 300-plus page graphic novel in bed with my little-kid-hands–it’s not so bad when you’re in the middle of it, but the beginning and the end put the weight in my hand off-balance enough to be uncomfortable. (First world problems…)

It was a fun addition to Libenson’s series, though. Having a boy as one of the main characters was a fun change, and the dynamics among family members, fellow students, and teammates felt authentic. Trying to balance friends in different groups is a challenge that teaches important skills, and deciding whose opinions to value and why is vital to the growing up process. Emmie is definitely a main character here, and she and Tyler’s friendship journey should have widespread appeal. This is a solid middle grade graphic/illustrated novel about valuing friends and finding the right balance in life–definitely give it a try!

When I saw Amy Timberlake’s Skunk and Badger available on audio, I thought I had a slam dunk for our next trip to Idaho. After a half hour or so, however, people wanted to listen to music instead; I thought perhaps that the style of humor was less accessible for my 6-year-old and turned on my Spotify playlist. When we tried it again on the way home, however, and the reaction from my kiddos was the same, I had to accept that it wasn’t going to be the perfect road trip fare I’d been hoping for. (I found it funny!) There aren’t enough illustrations to make the lack thereof on audio a dealbreaker, but for whatever reason, my kids were not enthralled. Since I was enjoying it enough to finish it on my own, though, I have to conclude that the undeniable humor in the story has more of an adult appeal. Rock-absorbed Badger and friendly Skunk make a solid ‘odd couple’, and I very much enjoyed Aunt Lola (even if hers was a solely epistolary role). The chickens were an odd addition, but then, the book was unapologetically odd all around. It’s an entertaining sort of odd, however, and so I’ll leave you to decide for yourself whether it’s worth your time.

On Saturday, a group of boys mostly from my daughter’s middle school were trick or treating and started across a crosswalk. They had flags, and the northbound traffic had stopped for them; a southbound car didn’t see them in time and hit the two boys in the lead. One of them died this morning; one of them is stable but still in critical condition. My daughter had multiple classes with the boy who died; the boy in the hospital is the bassoon player in her school band. I can only imagine the devastation of the families, friends–and the driver.

I know that the Atonement of Jesus Christ will cover all of their devastation and grief; it will be a long road, however, and we will be praying for them. GoFundMe pages have been set up for both Karl Finch and Spencer Wall, if anyone is looking for an act of kindness during this month of heightened focus on gratitude.

I’ve been giving my children extra hugs all day.

I finished listening to Finding Esme while cutting apples for applesauce this morning, and while I really am at a loss as to how to review it, I also need space on my library card–which means that rather then let the reading experience settle for a while before evaluating it, I’m rushing in regardless.

Wish me luck.

To begin, I am SO VERY TIRED of illustrators who create a cover for a book without any sense of what the book’s really like. You’d think Esme was a book with a spunky, inquisitive heroine who goes off in search of adventure, based on the cover, and that’s not at all how it feels. (Seriously, people. Tone. It’s not just for English majors.) Esme is gritty, grieving, and emotionally somewhat lost; she and her best friend are both struggling with difficult family situations and poverty, although Finch’s struggles are more stereotypical. Enter a mystical southern element–Esme’s grandmother can find things that are lost, things people are looking for, and Esme has started to feel that same gift within her. Add friendship difficulties, some moonshining, various levels of tragedy, and a slew of different kinds of people to deal with (and learn from), and you get a mix of a few too many themes in a single book that’s frequently heartbreaking and less about the found dinosaur bones than one might suppose from the description and first line. I’m not saying there isn’t a followable plot thread–there is–but it’s bumpy with varioius additions and subtractions. If you like poignant (although slightly scattered) stories involving difficult families, Finding Esme may be for you; if you’re looking for a tightly woven or adventurous story, probably not so much.

Your call.

Welllllll…it turns out that our internet problem was actually an electrical problem–or something, because this is emphatically NOT my area of expertise–and getting it fixed involved a fried (quite literally) modem, a hole melted into a power strip, concerning noises and foul-smelling electrical smoke, and a midnight visit from Rocky Mountain Power. Good times! Between that and household things and our fall break trip to Idaho to visit family, I clearly got VERY behind on my posts. Here I am, however–eating lunch, pear crisp in the oven, and ready to review Karen Hawkins’ A Cup of Silver Linings, which has been sitting by my keyboard, patiently waiting its turn.

Full disclosure? I liked The Book Charmer better, probably because books. Silver Linings, however, was still a thoroughly enjoyable read, and those with an affinity for plants (or tea!) will be delighted. (That’s the rest of my family, not me. Or, perhaps, my dad.) There’s not much romance in this one; instead, Sarah and Ava’s relationship is almost a main character. The other relationship at the forefront is a grandmother/mother/daughter one, with Julie’s (the mother/daughter) death forcing Ellen (the grandmother/mother) and Kristen (daughter/granddaughter) to learn to truly know and compromise with each other. The pacing of that felt slightly off to me–the compromise comes late but in surprisingly full force when it does–but grief messes up the regular order of things, so it may be just as realistic that way. Regardless, the Dove Pond series is a solid I’m-waiting-impatiently-for-the-next-one series for me, and since the teaser at the end suggests the imminent return of a previously absent Dove sister to town, I’m especially looking forward to the next one.

I’m more or less past my “capable of full concentration and coherent writing” time of night, but I still have ALL THE BOOKS waiting to be reviewed, and so I give you Dragonbreath #2: Attack of the Ninja Frogs. Full confession: this has been sitting on my bookshelf since my son finished the first book in the series, and I pulled it off to read mostly because he checked it out of his school library and I felt so guilty I told myself to JUST READ IT ALREADY. (Clearly the caps are a symptom of the time of night; also, I did WANT to read it, but then, I want to read all the books. I just made myself read THAT one, right then.) Ninja Frogs was definitely better than its predecessor–introducing a series is tricky, I imagine–and I enjoyed it thoroughly, managing to actually read it in just two evenings. (Not that it’s long or anything–evenings have just been busy of late. I managed it mostly because my Wednesday meeting was canceled.) Danny and Wendell are back, but Wendell’s befriending of a girl has Danny in fits–until her pursuit by ninja frogs puts him in a full-out ninja-induced euphoria. Reality is different from the movies, of course, but there still manages to be quite an impressive climax! Reluctant readers ought to eat this up.

Because I do, folks. I started out with three baskets full, but I’m down to one basket, one gallon Zip-Loc in the freezer, and a partial gallon Zip-Loc in the fridge waiting for me to pour the rinsed, partially full strainer into it. My neighbors have more, too, but I don’t know that I’ve got room for them!

Anyway. I’m taking a break from the grapes and my laundry because I absolutely cannot let myself get MORE behind on book reviews–and so I give you the latest Baby-Sitters Club graphic novel, Kristy and the Snobs. It’s written by one Chan Chau, and I would assume that she’s taking over the reigns from Gabriela Epstein (although she’s only done one previous one), except that Goodreads is listening Epstein as the adapter of Good-Bye, Stacey, Good-Bye, which is due out in February. (Who knows?) Her art, as always, differs slightly from her predecessors, but I got used to it pretty quickly. As far as the plot goes, Kristy’s family’s ailing dog is poignant, but the “Snobs” and Kristy’s behavior left me wanting a bit more discussion (and maybe a consequence or two?) before it was wrapped up. (The elements of the whys and the changes of heart are THERE, mind you–they just feel a bit rushed through.) Intended readers, however, may not care–neither of my older daughters mentioned anything about it–and so, once again, I’d recommend this one to fans of the series in either its new or its original incarnation.

And now, back to the grapes.

AND the laundry.