Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

Anyone familiar with Terri Libenson’s ‘Emmie & Friends’ novels knows there’s generally a twist, some being a bigger deal than others. After finishing Surprisingly Sarah on Monday morning, I’m not really sure which category it falls into; the twist is a big deal, I suppose, but it doesn’t really come at the end, and the entire book felt different as a result.

I also wasn’t as big of a fan of it.

On the other hand, the kind of twist it is was never going to appeal to me personally, especially this far removed from my own junior high experiences. Sarah–Emmie’s artistic friend–has a major crush on her BBF’s (Best Boy Friend, not to be confused with any kind of boyfriend) friend, and is trying to work up the courage to ask him to the school dance. Will she? Won’t she? Will it end well if she does?

I am SO GLAD I am no longer in junior high.

I’m honestly not sure I can say much more without some level of spoilage, so I guess you’ll have to read it yourself. And really, I don’t know that my kiddos will feel the same way I do about the twist, so you might really enjoy it. Who knows?

In the meantime, my son tied his flag football game tonight, I bought ridiculous amounts of cereal at Walmart today, and there will be muffins for tomorrow’s breakfast. Last night was kind of awful, but that’s because a child meltdown came at the worst possible time from a logistical standpoint, which happens. And we’re halfway through the week now, right?

Thank goodness.

Believe it or not–and frankly, I surprised myself–I finished another book today, and I almost went ahead and reviewed that, further ignoring my backlog; it’s after 7, however, so I decided instead to tackle the shortest book on my backlog and put off the one I just finished for a couple of days. (By the way, I only managed to finish it because I spent a happy hour reading last night, read more during one child’s therapy appointment, and then finished the last few pages after getting home. I managed to focus better than I often do, which is a blessing.)

As far as the weekend, my son won his flag football game, we prayed hard (and are still praying) for a friend in our neighborhood who’s in intensive care, I went to a friend’s karate birthday party, and all six of us cooperated in getting dinner ready on Sunday, which was lovely. And–with open windows–we managed to avoid turning on the AC! (The weather has turned again, so it’ll be back to heat again for a few days. Hallelujah!)

And now–the backlog. How long has it been since I finished Carole Boston Weatherford’s You Can Fly: The Tuskegee Airmen? No one knows. It went pretty quickly, however, being a verse novel–with a timeline, resources section, and list of further reading, no less–that comes in under a hundred pages. With illustrations! (Although I have to admit, while the author’s son’s illustrations are interesting, they’re less my cup of tea. It’s the text I was most into.)

If you haven’t heard of the Tuskegee Airmen, they’re yet another example of the WWII-era US government being forced to admit that not-white-males are fully capable of doing the same things that white males are capable of–when they are (grudgingly, of course) given a chance. In this case, the government’s need for pilots eventually resulted in a pilot training program at Tuskegee Institute, a historically black university in Alabama. Some of those pilots ended up flying combat missions in the European theater, where–spoiler alert!–they proved unequivocally that skin color has nothing to do with capability.

Proved it–AGAIN.

Given the brevity of Weatherford’s–or is it Boston Weatherford’s?–work, I think I’m going to have all of my children read it before it goes back to the library, because it’s a piece of history I want them to know about. And you know what?

You should read it, too.

Wednesday just wasn’t going to happen, folks. I wrote PTA checks in the morning and then drove two children to different Sandy locations at different times, grabbing library holds and lunch at McDonald’s in between. And then, what with grieving children, crazy schedules, and being sad myself, there was just not enough coherent thought to be had to attempt a blog post.

Today, though, I am DETERMINED to manage one, even though it’s late enough that my powers of concentration are questionable. (As in, it’s almost 7. I’m old and tired, okay?) Much of my determination comes from the fact that after this morning’s PTA meeting–and a hot date with a terrifying kitchen sink–I finished listening to Gennifer Choldenko’s Al Capone Throws Me a Curve, which I’m assuming is the last in her ‘Alcatraz’ series, and I really don’t want to get further behind on my book reviews. (It’s an italic-y kind of evening.)

I have a lot of emotions about this one.

On the one hand, I struggle with a well-intentioned character continually being put into impossible situations, and there was plenty of that to be had here. On the other hand, given Natalie’s autism and the time and place involved, those situations didn’t feel nearly as contrived as they might have. And while the climax of the story seemed incredibly farfetched to me, it was still satisfying in a way that made this book my favorite since the first one. There is learning and growth in all kinds of places, and more understanding and difficult-but-successful communication than ever before. (Possibly? It’s been a while since I’ve read, say, the second book…) Bottom line? If you’re into the series at all, don’t miss this one.

Piper, of course, still drives me absolutely crazy.

Today I was supposed to work on our PTA’s fundraiser paperwork, but none of my numbers matched, and it was apparent even before my hubby left for work that Peter–my favorite bunny, our smallest, shyest, most nervous, and more recently frail bunny–was not going to rally. At first I avoided his box while I worked on what paperwork I successfully could; when I’d finished much of it and taken a break for lunch, I checked on him and suspected that he was fading. I moved him onto the couch next to me and petted him while I read, listened to my audiobook, and played aimlessly on my phone, and he died 15 or so minutes before my older girlies got home from school.

It was a quiet, somber experience, sitting alone with our poor sick Peter while he passed, and as my children got home we snuggled–and some of us cried. It isn’t easy to lose a pet at any age.

Before he passed, though, I finished reading a new graphic novel I checked out for my raccoon-obsessed 9-year-old–The Racc Pack, by Stephanie Cooke (with art by Whitney Gardner). It was more thoroughly entertaining than I’d expected, if more action than character drama: hungry raccoon brothers, a nefarious business owner who refuses to donate his edible castoffs and guards them against any and all interested parties, and a mysterious housecat with a suspicious agenda. I don’t know that my 14-year-old will be as interested–she prefers animals to be animals, not talking, clothes-wearing protagonists–but I’m anticipating much excitement from my third grader.

And today, that’s not a bad thing.

And that includes if you’ve been cheering up all the kiddos and need something fun yourself, fellow parents. Tonight I accidentally broke the heart of my youngest by telling her I was ready to tuck her in without remembering that she hadn’t yet given her birthday present to Daddy–and while I IMMEDIATELY assured her that I’d forgotten and of COURSE she could give him her present first, the tears were slow to stop. My son was upset that I told him to get off his kindle, even though it was after 8:30 and he knows I don’t want him on it after 8–he being the child who is most likely to be upset when I’m upset with him, even when I’m upset because he’s doing something he knows I’ve told him not to do. (Wouldn’t it be easier to just NOT do the thing you’ve been told not to do? Or be apologetic about it?) And my 14-year-old was super excited about the treat she made Daddy for his birthday, and when he was casual in his reaction, she was convinced he didn’t like it and we should throw the rest away. Oh, the drama! Don’t you wish you lived at my house? (And since I wrote this paragraph, my oldest came to me in tears to tell me that she forgot to eat lunch even after I’d reminded her twice. Because of course, after watching “The Return of the King” with friends and getting home after midnight last night, her emotions are on the volatile side.)

Luckily, however, I did finish a feel-good graphic novel this morning–Jennifer L. and Matthew Holm’s Sunny Makes Her Case (the 5th in their “Sunny” series). In it, Sunny’s friend Deb makes the middle school cheer team, but Sunny’s somewhat adrift, not being overly athletic. When her friend Arun says he wants to start a debate club, though, she ends up finding a thing of her own that she hadn’t expected to. The story is based in part on Jennifer Holm’s own debate experiences growing up, and that just added to the book’s appeal, which is already considerable. The Holm siblings are a joy to read, folks. Don’t miss this one!

To be fair, it was only unexpected because Donut the Destroyer didn’t seem like my thing, mostly because the other graphic novel I’ve read by Sarah Graley (Glitch) wasn’t so much my thing. Donut, however, actually cracked me up. It’s a lot like Lumberjackula in some ways, only instead of pursuing a different interest from her parents, Donut is the child of villains but wants to become a hero. The good? She makes a couple of solid friends at her new school. The bad? Her old best friend still wants her to be a villain.

The great thing here is that most middle school students can relate to Donut’s dilemma on some level–friendships change as we grow, and there will always be someone (perhaps several or even many someones) who ends up wanting something different for (or from) us than we want to be (or give). Donut’s parents are wacky, on the creepy side, and yet loving and supportive in their own way, and that makes her chosen path doable, but some of her obstacles are significant. What I enjoyed most is the juxtaposition of typical tween troubles (and lessons) with slyly subverted villain/hero roles; I’m expecting my kiddos to get a kick out of this one.

On the homefront, we took cousins with us to Classic yesterday and the older three kids slept late this morning; tomorrow is my hubby’s birthday, but with dance and flag football practice in the evening, celebrations may be postponed ’til the weekend. If this is your spring break as well, we hope you’re enjoying it!

I hope everyone had a good one. We spent Sunday afternoon and evening in Clearfield with family, and Saturday was a mix of my son’s intro to flag football (we got texts about teams Sunday) and Prom for my oldest. In the meantime, I finished reading Faith Erin Hicks’ One Year at Ellsmere, which seems to have been published previously as The War at Ellsmere. It went almost shockingly fast–as in, I tucked it into the bathroom drawer but also read it in bed a bit one night and was therefore done in two days–and up until the fantastical deus ex machina (which is briefly foreshadowed early on), it’s a standard poor-kid-in-a-rich-school-with-mean-queen-bee story. That doesn’t mean it’s not a fun read, I have to say–Faith Erin Hicks has chops–but only the plot logistics really need to be discovered. Still, I imagine my graphic novel lovers will be fans, right? And there’s certainly a DON’T BE MEAN message, which is always a good thing in this world.

In other news, my son had his first flag football practice tonight, and since it’s at a totally fun local park, his siblings and three cousins came along to recreate while he was practicing. Which means people should sleep well tonight, right? Let’s hope I do, too…

It’s proving a more formidable foe than I had hoped, folks. Still, I have at least ONE more review in me, so here goes…

Jen Petro-Roy’s Good Enough was the latest read-aloud for my 14YO and me–not that I’ve reviewed the book we read together before it. (I don’t want to talk about it.) I was a bit surprised that she picked it over the other choices I gave her–it had the potential to be sadder than she prefers–and she was worried after our first session about just how sad it was, but by our second or third bout of reading, she was completely hooked.

Honestly, so was I.

We meet Riley as she checks into the hospital for an anorexia recovery program; she is (not surprisingly) angry and defensive and unhappy. Experiencing her recovery with her was an interesting experience, especially compared to the last novel I read about an anorexic in recovery; being twelve, Riley acclimates, adapts, and transitions into recovery far more quickly than Anna, the married main character of The Girls at 17 Swann Street. She does, however, have to deal with parental frustrations and school difficulties that make her looming discharge scary in different ways. Thankfully, amid rallying friends and growing skills Riley’s stay ends on a hopeful note, which (together with the occasional laugh-out-loud thought that apparently characterizes Petro-Roy’s heroines) makes Good Enough a satisfying read; the most important thing about the book, however, is the message of the title itself. Our girls are growing up in a terrifying world, and unless we can teach them how beautiful and perfectly imperfect each one of them is, we risk losing them. (This is why I [with limited exceptions] oppose cosmetic surgery.) The beauty of Riley’s journey lies, more than anything else, in watching her fight towards that conclusion.

If you are or have a teenage girl, don’t miss this one.

That’s how I’m feeling about this morning, folks. (Also about Peter. He really does continue to recover, although he’s still not at all his old self.) I’ve done enough laundry during the week that I have time this morning–I’m hoping–to do multiple book reviews, which is good. I’m certainly not going to manage SIX, which is the number of books I can think of that I’ve finished and are waiting to be reviewed, but more than one ought to be within my grasp! (One hopes. Although one did not get to bed as early as one should have last night, so the tired is now one’s enemy.)

My most recent completion involves the second book in a series by Heather Vogel Frederick that both of my older girls have started; I can pass it along as soon as I’ve reviewed it, and thus it’s doubly first in line. Frederick’s ‘Pumpkin Falls’ mysteries take place in New Hampshire, which is automatically a draw for me–although Truly, the narrator/main character, struggles with moving there. (She lacks a proper appreciation for New England, but I’ve got enough for both of us.) In Yours Truly, she experiences her first sugaring season through her new friends, but cut sap lines are fast causing a town feud; on the home front, the way her male friends are flocking around her visiting cousin makes her feel invisible. I honestly found Truly on the whiny side in this one–as well as a fairly awful big sister–but I can appreciate where she’s coming from, and thirteen is a rough age. She and her friends are an engaging (and enterprising!) group, however, and I think middle graders should enjoy this one.

We had on-and-off snow at the first of this week, which provoked some whining and complaining from those who prefer spring and summer to fall and winter; I, on the other hand, enjoyed wearing long sleeves and made soup for dinner. And while I can’t guarantee that this Chicken Tortilla Soup is the “best” that it claims to be–I’ve possibly only had one other recipe for it–I did find it thoroughly enjoyable.

It would, of course, have been better if I’d actually had cilantro; the majority of my kiddos are ambivalent, however, and I didn’t want to go to the store. I did saute the onions and garlic in olive oil, eventually adding in the can of mild green chilis, because it’s just the better way to do things. (I also used chicken that had been cooked previously, because hey, I had frozen cooked chicken.) Other than that, I pretty much followed the recipe, and while I didn’t have avocados or guac to top it with, the chips, cheese, and sour cream still made for an enjoyable dinner. Give it a try! (Although you’d best do it quickly, depending on where you live–there’s only so much more soup weather to be had until fall.)