how-to: friend moving away edition

A general how-to if you find out your dear, sweet, wonderful friend who was supposed to move to Houston in June is now moving in less than two weeks:

1. Cry your sad little eyes out.

2. Glare in the general direction of Texas.

3. Eat some chocolate.

4. Sigh gustily, pick yourself up out of your sulk, and acknowledge that this is really what is best for your friend.

5. Offer to watch her kids every waking minute of the next 10 days so she can get packed.

6. Tell your friend you love her dearly and will miss her so much it will hurt, but you are so happy her family will all be back together again. And ask her please not to wait too long before she visits.

Love you, Aimee!

easter fun

Good times yesterday! We had a super Easter. Just the usual stuff, but it seemed extra fun this year.

We dyed eggs Saturday night, of course:

Sam tried to ...surprise!... eat the eggs. While still in the shell. I asked him after I took this picture what he thought was inside. "Chocyate," he whispered back, all reverently. No wonder he thought this was the most incredible activity ever! After I enlightened him by peeling an egg, he was still pretty into it and started calling himself "the egg controller." He gave himself the job of arranging the eggs in the carton after they had dried. I can't blame him - there is something so magical about handling those rainbow eggs.

Next morning, we had a candy hunt:

Don't you love the curlers? Their hair looked pretty darn cute after I took them out. Sadly, no pics. I even made them cutsie little tulle-rosette headbands and still didn't take a picture! I had to leave early for meetings before church and peeled out of there pretty fast.

I will admit that I was annoyed at having meetings on Easter Sunday, but it all turned out pretty great and was one of the best Easter services I've ever been to. In fact, all three hours of church were really amazing. How often can you say that?

After church, our friends came over to share Easter dinner with us. It was so nice, in the absence of any family in the area, to spend the evening with people we love and that have become our family here in Medford. So glad the kids can have substitute cousins to play with!

And Eleanor dressed up like the Easter bunny:

We always do these scripture eggs the week before Easter. And, while there was the usual wrangling and noise, this was the first year the kids - the girls, especially - really got into the story and understood it. It was really cool to answer their questions and see their little testimonies germinate. So glad all that Primary tuition isn't going to waste!

everything back to normal

As you can see from this picture, we are all very happy that Jared is home. Look at that look of sheer bliss on Sam's face! It didn't take long before the kids were piling on Jared and making him be a human jungle gym. No, I didn't try to stop them - he knew he had it coming!

But I forgive him for leaving me. He brought me back a beautiful necklace AND a giant tub of Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Peanutbutter Cups. Jared really knows how to play his cards right.

Everyone is much more cheerful now that Daddy is home. Sam is feeling much better and is back to his usual self, as evidenced by the following conversation I had with him this morning:

Sam: "My tow truck is so strong it could tow our house!"

Me: "Woah, that is really strong! Could your tow truck tow a dinosaur?"

Sam: scoffs like I'm an idiot "No...dinosaurs don't have a hitch."

Back to business as usual! Happy Monday, everyone!

doing worlds better

Just wanted to say thanks for listening to my whining yesterday! Things are definitely looking up today. Even though Sam did get up a few times last night (curse that cough of his!) and woke up at the crack of dawn banging on the wall and shouting "I want to dig outside!"... things are still looking up. My temperature has gone waaaaay down and my throat is feeling much better - it's amazing how not being sick can really perk a girl up.

Incidentally, Sam was banging on the wall with the giant plastic shovel that he went to bed with last night. I'm not sure I get little boys.

So thanks for your kind responses. It helped me not feel quite so abandoned and pathetic!

Now for something completely different. Remember the Where's Waldo activity our church youth group did last year? It was such a hit, we did it again this year. I was worried I would have to miss the activity, what with Jared being out of town, but my bishop's sweet wife came to watch my kiddos so I could don another crazy wig and walk around the mall:

I went as Pregnant Velma, apparently. I wasn't really going for the Velma part, but whatever works. My friend Ginny went as Outrageous Granola Lady. She heard one employee say, "Wow, that lady must be from Ashland!" so I guess her disguise worked.

I had many people ask me when I was due, if it was boy/girl, what names I was considering... I wasn't prepared to answer these questions! I made up many lies. I hope the guy from the cell phone kiosk never talks to the girl from The Children's Place because my story will not check out! I even had someone say, "Are you sure there's only one in there?!" Really, people? Really? I have to put up with that crap when I'm actually pregnant - I shouldn't have to when I'm fake pregnant.

See? All I needed was an orange maternity sweater!

single mom and some newberies

I don't usually broadcast this information on my blog, but my self-pity is overwhelming. Jared is out of town for some work training. We didn't really believe he was going to end up going thanks to the goings-on in DC last week, but when the shutdown was narrowly avoided he packed his bags and took off. When Jared is out of town, I usually console myself by making the kids PBJs for dinner, not cleaning the house, watching girl movies, and starting an enormous home improvement project that Jared would stop me from doing if he were here. This time, however, I have been up with a sick Sammy every night and am now sick myself with a raging fever and sore throat. Not so fun. Painting all the doors in the house, like I had originally planned, sounds a lot more fun. (I did one! Only eight more to go...) So please feel sorry for me. That's all I ask. *sniff, sniff* Because I am unable to do more than lay on the couch in my jammies while Sam watches "Bob the Builder," I thought I could at least add some more Newbery reviews:

Carry On, Mr. Bowditch

by Jean Lee Latham (1956) I could not for the life of me figure out why so many people were dying in this darn book! Our poor main character loses mother, grandmother, beloved sisters, brother, brothers-in-law, and finally a wife. So much for one fictional character to bear! Then I realized Nathaniel Bowditch is not a fictional character but was an early American mathematician from Salem who revolutionized ocean navigation and did indeed lose a lot of family members. Aside from all the dead relatives, Bowditch is an odd choice as a topic for a children's book. All children love to read about innovative mathematicians, right? A ho-hum little book, it combines historical fiction with ocean adventures but not a whole lot else. Though I am fascinated by anyone who can teach himself Calculus. A runner-up this year was Men, Microscopes, and Living Things. Must have been a brainy year for Newbery!

Ginger Pye by Eleanor Estes (1952)

Jerry Pye scrimps and saves to earn a dollar to buy a puppy. After he brings home Ginger, Jerry and sister Rachel are overjoyed and the book promises to unfold into a delightful little tale of two children and their dog. And then Ginger runs away (or, as we find out later, is kidnapped) and doesn't return to the book until nearly the last page. So why is this book called Ginger Pye? He is pretty incidental to the book. It should be called Two Kids Have Some Picnics and Express Mild Concern Over Their Missing Dog For A Year. Yes, a year. The dog is missing for a year. The whole time Ginger is hidden in a neighbor's backyard being trained to be a circus dog. Now that sounds like an interesting book!

Amos Fortune, Free Man by Elizabeth Yates (1951)

Is this weird or what? All the Newbery runners-up for 1951 were biographies: Lincoln, Gandhi, Johnny Appleseed, and - the ultimate winner - Amos Fortune. If you can look past some of the condescending racial conventions of it's day, this really is an inspiring true story of a man taken from Africa at the age of fifteen to live the life of a slave in Salem in the 1700s. Fortune is finally able to purchase his freedom at the age of sixty and begins a new life as a tanner in Jaffrey, New Hampshire. He marries, has a family, and becomes a prominent member of the community of Jaffrey, where you can still visit his grave stone and see a monument to him. I know the story is very sugar-coated, but it is hard not to be moved by the underlying fact of a man beginning his life at the age of sixty and spending his remaining years doing so much good. While this book itself is not terribly intriguing, Amos Fortune the person is. There was a short film produced in 1997, Amos Fortune Road, about trying to find orginal records to preserve his story.

Call It Courage by Armstrong Sperry (1941)

A basic coming-of-age story, Mafatu wants to prove to his tribe and his father (the Chief, of course) that he is not afraid of the sea. Launching from his island home with only his spear, some food, and his dog, Mafatu is on a quest to find his courage and come home a hero. He lands on a deserted island and manages to survive just fine until he discovers the island is really the home to a tribe of cannibals. I hate when that happens! A quick and predictable read, but who doesn't love a good survival book? Also, the author's illustrations are stunning. And is that his real name? Too good to be true!

One of Sperry's woodcut illustrations

gross parenting moments: tootsie roll edition

If you're not into this sort of thing, avert your tender eyes.

Sam is pretty sick. He was up last night coughing his little snotty guts out, poor guy. He couldn't even manage a nap today, he was coughing so hard.

I had just gotten him out of his bed this afternoon and set his sweaty, boogery, cough-racked little self on the kitchen counter when he gagged. And threw up all over the kitchen floor. Repeat three times. Each time followed by Sam screaming, "AHHHHH! IT'S ON MY HAND!" Not a veteran vomitter yet.

Eve stood by watching, mildly concerned. Inspecting one of the puddles, she says, "What is that?! A Tootsie Roll?...(long pause)... Can I have one?"

Ew.

red tape factories rejoice!

Sitting on my sunny porch, watching Sam shovel his trucks through the wood chips while my just-barely-blooming tulips nod in the breeze, it's hard to remember that I am supposed to be stressed about something. But I am:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20110408/ap_on_bi_ge/us_spending_showdown

It's never a good sign when you type "government" into Google and it immediately - and helpfully - adds "shutdown" for you. I was very much peeved by the following quote from a Fox News article: (I should know better than to click a Fox News link, but I couldn't help myself!)

Should Congress fail to reach a budget and non-essential federal workers are forced to stay home as a much ballyhooed federal government shutdown goes into effect at midnight Saturday -- don't tell the Obama administration, which apparently sees nearly everyone as essential.

Yes, museums and national parks will shutter. Yes, about 800,000 people will be on the standby list, unable to use government-provided BlackBerries and cell phones.

Really? Jared has a government-issued Blackberry? And he works for a museum?! I hardly know that man anymore, I tell you! What will really happen is thousands of decent, non-tax-wasting federal employees will be forced to stay at home while their work emails get clogged, their desks pile up with unfinished projects, and their bank accounts deplete.

But do not fear, American public! Your Congress person will not be forced to suffer such indignities. Their paychecks will continue to be cut. I have a few choice words about which federal employees I consider essential: the ones who are currently at their desks frantically trying to finish as much work as they can before midnight tonight or the ones munching on government-provided sandwiches and effectively stymieing the democratic process? Hmmmmmm...such a hard choice.

newberies: father/son edition

It finally happened, the day I have been dreading since committing to this project. My random number generator turned up no. 56. The Bridge to Terabithia. My most hated childhood book. I am headed to the library to pick it up in a little bit, so wish me luck. Better now than ending on it, right? Wouldn't it have been a cruel twist of fate if 56 had been the last number drawn? Bleh.

So a few more reviews. I apologize that this is really all my blog has consisted of lately. I need to tell my kids to be more funny/cute so I have things to blog about again.

I had a rash of father/son books on my list lately, all from the emerging emotional awareness of the 50s and 60s. Two from the same author, even! (Yes, it is safe to say that Joseph Krumgold has daddy issues.) And some were definitely better than others.

Onion John by Joseph Krumgold (1960)

Joseph Krumgold won two Newberies - for Onion John in 1960 and also for ...And Now Miguel in 1954. (Too bad they weren't handing out Cheesiest Title Awards in 1954 because I am just sure he would have won!) One was pretty good and the other was pretty not so good. I just didn't really care all that much for Onion John. Generic suburban boy - Andy - in generic suburban town befriends the homeless guy who the town has dubbed Onion John and kindly permits to live in the local dump and rifle through their trash for food. Could this possibly be a social commentary about accepting those who are different (Onion John is from an unnamed Easter European country and no one can understand a word he says)? Or about waking up a suburban town to the realities of indigence and poverty? No. Not so much. It's about Andy trying to thwart the plans of his oddly jealous and controlling father who wants nothing more than for Andy to go to MIT and become an astronaut (can you tel this was written in the 60s? An astronaut!) Long story short, after the town ruins Onion John's life by building him a little suburban house (in the dump) and helping him to abandon his medieval ways (growing onions in his bathtub), the little house goes up in flame (Onion John doesn't really understand electricity and starts a fire.) Andy decides they should run away together. Andy's dad intervenes and stops their plans, Onion John leaves the little town he has lived in for 50 years because a little twerp messed up his life and his house burned down, and Andy goes back to bed. The end. The book was condescending and I didn't really get the odd Industry! Technology! theme that was probably much more relevant in 1960. And the relationship between Andy and his dad was creepy. Heck, the relationship between Andy and Onion John was creepy! Not really a book that would resonate with today's kids.

...And Now Miguel by Joseph Krumgold (1954)

I really dreaded reading this book, not only because of the title, but because I really didn't want to read another book by Joseph "I Hate My Father" Krumgold. But this book was surprisingly and happily a lot different from Onion John. Miguel is twelve and a middle child on a sheep ranch in New Mexico. The burning desire of Miguel's heart is to prove to his father that he is old enough to go with him and his older brothers on their annual three month trip to the mountains to let the sheep graze on the lush mountain grass. Miguel is a guileless and believable narrator as he describes the angst and humor of being twelve and not always taken seriously. The desert scenery is lovely and evocative. And Miguel's family is warm, loving, and waaaay more functional than Andy's repressed family. There is an odd bit at the end where Miguel and his older brother Gabriel have an existential discussion about God, fate, and the meaning of the universe. But even that was funny, too. The last few pages, where Miguel finally ascends the mountain with all the men of his family , was genuinely moving. Stick to this one and pass on Onion John.

It's Like This, Cat by Emily Neville (1964)

This book rules the school! From it's crazy cool 1960's title to it's very teen narrator, 14-year old Dave Mitchell, it's a little slice of sixties awesomeness. The underlying theme is how Dave works out his troubles with his uptight, prone-to-lecturing attorney father... a little cliche, I know. But I love the setting, the language, the characters. It seems that most American kids' books in the preceding decades were set in little suburban towns or even the country. This seems to be one of the first to write about a kid who doesn't go hunting for arrowheads or swim in Farmer Brown's pond, but who walks down 42nd St to buy a Coke and who hops a subway to go to the zoo in Brooklyn. I love that Dave says stuff like, "My Pop's going to blow his stack!" and his dad says stuff like "Don't get fresh!" And they talk about Harry Belafonte records and the new show called West Side Story. It would seem so trite if the book was written as a nostalgia piece but instead it's the real thing. And enjoy the cool soundtrack that will inevitably play in your head while you read!