Creature Bug

A little swine for Oregon

Well, it was bound to happen eventually.

The swine flu is in Oregon.

In fact, out of an abundance of caution, Western Oregon University--where I did my graduate work and where former world's best nanny Rebekah attends--closed its campus today and will remain closed through Monday because a student might have swine flu.

I am both alternately annoyed and fascinated by the media's coverage. On the one hand, the media is all about freaking people out. It's no wonder that foreign countries aren't importing North American pork--even though you can't catch the swine flu from eating pork--the media circus is ridiculous. I won't even watch the news tonight because it'll be all about swine flu, and all about panic. And since the spring flu is usually just nature's "test-run" for the winter flu, then we might be hearing about the swine flu for a long time. Fabulous.

However, as I've mentioned a few times before, I love reading about immunology and diseases. I don't know what it is about pandemics and epidemics and plagues that I find so thrilling (especially considering I am embarrassingly ignorant about general science topics), but with the new outbreak I've been keeping my eyes open for non-dramatized articles about the swine flu. Reading about Outbreaks vs. Epidemics? Yes, please. Reading about the swine flu as bioterrorism? Sure. Today I saw that Slate provided me with a whole page full of swiney links. Oh mercy.

Now, being a non-science person, I can't just pick up the latest science journal and be enthralled. I need my diseases wrapped in mystery and intrigue, and cushioned by a well-worded narrative. You do that, and you've got me hooked.

If by some chance you also enjoy an excellently written germ story, well, here are five suggestions. (If you aren't interested, at the very least, check out the last book on this list.)

• Flu: The Story of the Great Influenza Pandemic, by Gina Kolata. This was the book that got me hooked on diseases. The flu pandemic of 1918 killed tens of millions of people, but scientists are still uncertain what made that strain so deadly. The mystery of it? Most of the 1918 flu's victims were young and middle-aged adults. A few parts of the book get a little weighty, but skimming is fine enough, and being aware of how the flu of 1918 is shaping today's flu theories makes this a compelling read.
• The American Plague: The Untold Story of Yellow Fever, the Epidemic that Shaped Our History, by Molly Caldwell Crosby. Did you know that the CDC is alerted if just one case of yellow fever is detected? I found The American Plague quite gripping, and patted myself on the back for recognizing her references to Kolata's flu book. Crosby's medical mystery is disjointed in some parts, but finely recounts the heroics of those who eventually solved the causes for yellow fever. You'll never look at a mosquito the same again.
• 28: Stories of AIDS in Africa, by Stephanie Nolan. I randomly stumbled upon a blogger's recommendation for this book, and checked it out from the library on a whim. I'm so glad I did. For each of the 28 chapters (representative of the 28 million HIV-infected people in Africa), Nolan focuses on one individual HIV related case: an orphan, a scholar, a prostitute immune to AIDS. The individual stories are heartbreaking, staggering, and informative. I've recommended this book to more than a dozen people (although no one I know has ever taken me up on my recommendation...reading about AIDS is no walk in the park).
• Vaccinated: One Man's Quest to Defeat the World's Deadliest Diseases, by Paul Offit. The dominant narrative of the book is the history of Maurice Hilleman and vaccinations, but naturally in order to understand vaccinations you have to understand diseases. I reviewed the book a couple years ago, and it still stands out in my mind as a compelling read, not only for its history of diseases but also for its strong case favoring vaccines.
• Better: A Surgeon's Notes on Performance, by Atul Gawande. Now I know I've mentioned this book before, and perhaps you've shrugged off my recommendation. But seriously. SERIOUSLY. You need to read this book. It's. so. good. For what it's worth, it's got a 4 1/2 star rating on Amazon. It's a quick read, each chapter stands alone, it's well written and even funny, and it gives you a look into the medical community that will change the way you think. Buy it. Check it out from the library. Spend an afternoon at the bookstore. Whatever you have to do, read it. And when you do, let me know so I can stop harassing you to read it.

So, there's my germ-infested list. All this swine flu talk got me interested in reading about pandemics again, so I'm starting on The Coming Plague: Newly Emerging Diseases in a World Out of Balance next week, hoping it won't be too dated (it was written in 1995). I'd love to hear any suggestions you might have, assuming I'm not the only one who has a morbid fascination with books like these. Anyone? Hello? Bueller?

Most importantly though, I'm hoping you all stay safe and healthy from this nasty flu. As for me, I'll be happy to read the book about it in a couple years, and just like all my disease infested reads, I'd rather not have personal experience with the topic.

Kiddie Lit: Favorite Authors

We saw one of Jason's friends at the library tonight, and upon seeing us he exclaimed, "Hey! Small world! What are the chances of seeing you guys at the library?" Jason and I must have had the same about-to-say-something expression on our face because only a second later our friend said, "Oh, that's right. It's Tuesday. You guys are always here."

Yes, Tuesday nights we are at the library. I have written much about our love affair with our local library, so I don't need to go over that again. I don't, however, write much about the books we get, and after two years of Tuesday nights at the library I can tell you that there are many books that have found their way into our home for a three-week stay. Some have multiple stays. Some go back before their visit is due to expire. At any rate, we read a lot of books, and I think it's safe to say that Jason is as familiar with children's books as I am, particularly since he is the bedtime story reader. One of these days I think I'll write my own children's book--and if I'm lucky maybe my brother will even illustrate it--and then my life will be complete.

Considering my persistent contact with children's books, I thought I should mention some of our favorites. I'm thinking I should do this more regularly, not only to record what's happening in the Creature Bug book world at any given moment, but also so that you might share with me some of your favorites (see, I'm tricky that way).

That said, I'm answering Alison's question from last week about who some of our favorite pre-school/kindergarten authors are. (PS: I haven't forgotten I still have some questions to answer from this long ago post. Soonly. Promise.) Some of them are more well-known; some may be a bit more unfamiliar.

Here's a short list of some of our favorite authors who have multiple books to their name (not to be confused with our favorite illustrators, or authors who only have one book to their name):

1. Mo Willems: Already mentioned, and when I was perusing my archives I stumbled across this video of Sydney "reading" an Elephant and Piggie book. Gosh, I love three year olds. It's worth noting that we're more keen on reading his more recent books. He's probably one of the funniest authors we read.
2. Laura Numeroff: Well-known for her If You Give A Mouse A Cookie and other similarly themed books.
3. Karma Wilson: Her Bear series is charming (Bear Snores On, Bear Feels Sick...)
4. Karen Ackerman: She writes a lot of older fiction, but her picture books are lovely too. Our favorite is Song and Dance Man, which is a wonderful story about the dancing adventures of a grandpa when he was younger.
5. Helen Cooper: Fun, wonderful illustrations, clever use of word presentation. Our favorites? Delicious and Pumpkin Soup.
6. Amy Young: for her Belinda the Ballerina series.
7. Audrey Wood: Sure her Napping House and Piggies is geared towards a younger audience, but she has some lovely books for older kids. Jubal's Wish, Heckedy Peg, and King Bidgood's in the Bathtub are fabulous. Oh, and it doesn't hurt that they are gorgeously illustrated.
8. Amy Hest: Another author with lots of books that span the ages. I love Mabel Dancing though. And Kiss Good Night.
9. Ian Falconer: Not everybody enjoys Olivia the famous pig, but we do.
10. Melanie Watt: I hear her Chester books are hilarious, but we've only read Augustine and Leon the Chameleon.

And a few toddler authors we're fond of: Rachel Isadora, Jez Alborough, Crockett Johnson, and Anna Dewdney.

There's my Top Ten for kiddie lit authors we book stalk. How about you? Any favorite authors that I need to check out next week when I'm at the library?

Oh Mo

When I was recently reviewing the seven elements of the speech communication process with my students, I decided to draw them a little cartoon to illustrate the concept.

It looked a little something like this.

 

To which one student replied, "That is freaking awesome."

And I laughed and said, "Go read Mo Willems. He invented the freaking awesome Pigeon." 

It was no surprise that none of my students--save one who works in a preschool--recognized my dear pigeon friend. But if you're familiar with Mo Willems, well, you know how much Pigeon rocks the kiddy lit world.

 

Even Sydney knows how to draw Pigeon (thanks to the handy dandy directions on Mo Willems' web page). If you aren't familiar with the Pigeon books--Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, The Pigeon Finds a Hotdog, Don't Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late--you are missing out on one of the classics of modern children's literature.

For as fabulous as the Pigeon books are, I think the Elephant and Piggie books are even better. If you haven't seen the Elephant and Piggie books, you are so missing out on one of life's greatest joys. Particularly Today I Will Fly and There's a Bird on Your Head. Children's literature doesn't get much funnier than this.

I suspect my girls would agree, since as they were curled up on the couch tonight--Jules with a fever of 103 and Sydney with an ear infection--the only thing that made them smile was hearing about the bird on Gerald the Elephant's head. Next month a new Elephant and Piggie book come out, and we're already excited about it.

I knew becoming a parent would change a lot of things about my life, but I don't think I would have guessed the transformation it's brought to my reading habits. Five years ago I hardly knew a single contemporary children's literature author, and now I'm pre-ordering 40-page books with line drawings and quotation bubbles.

And I couldn't be happier.

words and books

It's been nice to have questions to rely on to get me through some bloggy posts because mostly all I've been wanting to write about is how my whole body aches from the severe coughing I do every minute, and how I only take NyQuil on Thursday nights because that's the night that the girls stay with my parents, so I don't have to worry about the sleep coma NyQuil puts me in, which explains why I slept in until 10:30 this morning.

(And I know I risk whatever sympathy you might have had for me regarding the coughing by admitting I slept in until 10:30 this morning, but it so nice to not wake up coughing in the middle of the night. Goodbye until next Thursday, sweet NyQuil.)

So, yes. The coughing. I don't like it. The end.

*

Gretchen from Lifenut asked, "What is your favorite word? The book with the most broken spine/most underlined passages in your vast collection?"

I have a hard time coming up with a favorite word. Favorite word to use on a regular occurrence? "Lovely." It's such a versatile word, usable in almost all occasions depending on the tone I use. I think I say "lovely" most every day. A favorite word just to say for sheer fun, but never having a reason to use it? Loquacious. I never say it, except when I read it, then I have to say it aloud because it's such word candy.

As for books with broken spines/underlined passages, I will dutifully exclude ones I studied in my graduate courses. They have marks and comments and dog-eared pages galore, but I don't think they reveal much about my reading habits except my tendency to use lots of support for academic papers. 

From my personal collection, the book with the most broken spine/most underlined passage would definitely be The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien. Wow. What a book.

After compulsively reading it every year from 1999-2003, I haven't read it as a parent. It's emotionally hard stuff, though incredibly written. The book, set in Vietnam during the war, is not exactly a memoir, but not exactly fiction either. O'Brien does an amazing job telling a story that pieces together parts of his experience with experiences that belonged to others. One chapter in particular, which I used often in the classroom to talk about "literary truth," perfectly captures the way truth is shared in books, how story-telling can create a different kind of truth. It's quite beautiful.

Other books with lots of underlining: The Poisonwood Bible (another favorite that I decided I had to teach in the classroom) and Possession (a long read, but rich with loveliness).

*sigh* All this book talk makes me miss my books.

All two-dozen boxes of my books are still away in storage, waiting for us to unpack them when we have a house to put them in. Even though I have made good use of our local library, I still miss my books. Sure library books are free, but I don't underline in library books. I don't doodle on library books. They're good for reading, and they're good for budget-keeping, but still.

I miss being surrounded by my books, miss my organization method (books organized not alphabetically, but by genre), miss being able to pick up an old favorite and read my favorite chapter.

Ah, well. Soon enough I'll have my library and barn doors. And soon enough next fall will arrive, complete with a book unboxing party. 

What a reunion--what a lovely reunion--it will be.

 

Amazing, Baby

In just over a month a certain lovable, mischievous, high-spirited baby is going to turn two years old.

Two.

Once you turn two, I think a little bit of that baby sheen wears off. Fortunately, Jules still has lots to go around, evidenced by how often I smooch those cheeks of hers, or nuzzle my nose into the back of her neck, or nibble on her ears, even though most of those actions elicit a semi-serious "No Mama!" from said Baby.

To some degree, I've taken all of Jules's milestones in stride, without quite as much marveling over the little things she does like we did with Sydney. Jules has been getting her two-year molars, but somehow I haven't felt the urge to write about it. Go figure.

Sure, we're quite smitten and entertained by Jules, but the first word and the first tooth seemed just a little bit less miraculous the second time around. Also, there has been virtually no consulting of parenting books with Jules. I just don't care that much what books have to say. And the pregnancy books that I poured over while I was pregnant with Sydney? Untouched the last time I was pregnant. Partly because I don't find pregnancy fascinating, and partly because I don't like someone trying to give me a complex about the tuna sandwich I'm eating for lunch. It's tuna, for goodness sakes. Not a martini.

But there's a new book in town, and it's not preachy, it's not stress-inducing, and it's even got me--a non-baby person by all accounts--pouring over the pages.

 Amazing Baby is, first of all, a gorgeous book. Seriously. The book has pages and pages of beautiful pictures of babies, and it almost makes me want to have a baby just so I could take some pictures of her. I'm not talking Anne Geddes-style pictures (which I enjoy and have nothing against). I'm talking close-ups, action shots, pensive shots, amazing baby shots. At this particular moment, what I love the most about the book is the photography and the fabulous anatomy page-overlays that are quite informative. I can hardly remember what else I want to say about the book, so distracted am I by these adorable babies.

There's other good stuff too, though. Like the whole premise of the book, which is that it delivers all sorts of amazing facts about the first two years of life. It mostly skips past the gestating stage (not completely, but enough so that I wouldn't call it a pregnancy book) and delivers on what is so amazing about these little babies we have.

For instance:

• Newborns can swim
• There are seven reasons why a baby cries
• Babies are born with several automatic reflex actions
• A baby's brain makes up 10% of her weight; it's only 2% for adults
• Babies best fall asleep hearing the heart beat at 72 times per minute, the rate a relaxed pregnant mother's heart beats 
• A two-year toddler is an amazing word-learning machine

That last one? I knew that. Favorite word around here? Gum. It's the only leverage I have in getting Jules to eat breakfast, take a bath, and get dressed.

More than your standard (or even a-typical) parenting book, author Desmond Morris has written a book that celebrates the achievements of babies and just how remarkable their young lives are. The tone of the book is encouraging, engaging, and educational, filled with helpful suggestions to make a child's early life even more remarkable. My only complaint is that Dr. Morris credits evolution as the reason why babies are so irresistible and amazing. I heartily disagree on that point.

Nevertheless, this beautiful baby development book is one that could just as easily go on the coffee table as it could in a gift bag for a new mom. First-time moms may want to consult those tried-and-true pregnancy books, but this would make a great compliment. Second and third and fourth time moms will appreciate this book for its unique perspective of seeing life from the child's point of view.

I feel like I probably ought to give the book away, since I'm not pregnant (although I do have a child who fits in the category of under two-years-old), but I can't part with it. Plus, someday there may be another baby in my life who reminds me not to take the amazing development of life for granted.

 

But don't worry, Jules. That won't be for a long time. Plus, no baby can replace you because you, my sweet, are amazing. And I know I haven't told you how amazing you are for being able to feed yourself, or put on your own pants, or choose your own shirts, or open the fridge and get your sippy cup and an apple, but you are. Amazing.

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For more reviews of Amazing Baby check out Parent Bloggers Network.

Random thought during tonight's bedtime routine

Even though Margaret Wise Brown wrote both Goodnight Moon and Runaway Bunny, I have completely different feelings regarding each book.

Specifically, I adore Goodnight Moon and can nearly lull myself to sleep reading it, but then I get to Runaway Bunny and am just a little bit creeped out. I just can't get on board the mother's commitment in Runaway Bunny.

But goodnight to the comb, and brush, and bowl full of mush?

Zzzzzz....

I need to know how you stand on this very important issue.

(poll)

poll by twiigs.com

Continuing the Debate on Vaccines

Up until the past couple years, I rarely read non-fiction. It wasn't that I didn't like it, it was just not on my reading radar. But in the last year, my reading list has had a lot of medical non-fiction that I highly recommend: 28 Stories of AIDS in Africa, The American Plague, Better, and as of this past weekend, Autism's False Prophets: Bad Science, Risky Medicine, and the Search for a Cure by Dr. Paul A. Offit. I admit, I'm hooked on medical science books even though I have no desire whatsoever to be directly involved in the medical field.

Last year, I read (and reviewed) Dr. Offit's book on vaccines, and so I was quite interested in reading his follow-up book. I've already given my opinion about vaccines, so I won't rehash that here. However, the book isn't so much a parade for vaccines as it a defense of them. It largely grapples with the question: do vaccines cause autism?

It's a big question, an important question, one which parents all over the world are struggling with. The media is quick to publish studies that demonstrate the dangers of vaccines; politicians like John Kerry, Dave Weldon, Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., and Joe Lieberman have condemned vaccines; even Oprah has jumped on the vaccines-cause-autism bandwagon. Who are parents to believe?

Offit traces of the history of the vaccine debate, beginning with the first study that linked MMR vaccines with autism.

• When it was proved without a doubt that MMR vaccines did notcause autism, mercury (thimerosal) was blamed for autism.
• When thimerosal was removed from vaccines, the rates of autism actually increased, rather than decreased. Evidently, thimerosal was not be blamed.
• After decades of research, no link has been found that ties vaccines with autism.

While Offit is clearly on the side of "vaccines do not cause autism," his book looks at the research that was given to the contrary. He spends pages highlighting the opposing research, even devoting whole chapters ("Lighting the Fuse," "Mercury Rising" ) to the story that vaccines cause autism. Each time, however, Offit provides damning evidence to the contrary. No respected medical establishment believes that vaccines cause autism.

Among many circles, that answer is not a popular opinion. Some go so far as to accuse these establishments of a mass-conspiracy, and that the government is simply unwilling to pull vaccines from the market because of the pharmaceutical company's lobbying. Offit admits that vaccines aren't perfect, but the FDA and CDC have been quick to act when an immunization poses a threat.

For example: "In 1998, the FDA licensed a rotavirus vaccines, and the CDC recommend it for all infants.... Studies showed rotavirus vaccines caused intussusception in about one of every 10,000 babies who got it....Within months of the vaccine's release, the CDC had discovered the problem and withdrew its recommendation--a testament to CDC diligence and post-licensure surveillance." If there was any link at all between vaccines and autism, the CDC would have caught it by now and would have acted accordingly.

More than just providing research, Offit provides the drama that surrounds vaccines. The court cases, the conspiracy theories, the death threats, the high profile individuals, the risky treatments for autistic children--all are part of the controversy. And unfortunately, an entire cottage industry of litigation lawyers, advocacy groups, and unethical doctors have taken advantage of parents who are looking for a cause for autism.

Even more unfortunate is that this industry sees autistic children as poisoned and damaged. From Kathleen Seidel, founder of Neurodiversity.com (an autism resource web site): "I get really angry at those who work parents up into a nasty emotional state. I just think it's destructive to be led down this path of endless recriminations that goes with being encouraged to think that kids are autistic because they're damaged."

In an age when we are all trying to do the best for our children, when we aren't entirely sure who to believe, I found the book and all the statistical evidence that it provides as a great reassurance that vaccines do not cause autism. Furthermore, rather than spending money and resources fighting against vaccines, we should be focusing on what does cause autism and how we can support those who are affected by it.

And as a perfect stroke of good timing, yesterday one of my students showed this heartwarming video about Jason McElwain, an autistic student.

Paul Offit will donate all royalties from sales of this book to autism research.  Parent Bloggers Network provided me with my copy of this book.

Reviewing 'Maybe Baby'

One of the joys of the blog community is getting to experience (in a way) the amazing moments in someone's life. Last week I was daily checking my Google Reader to see how my favorite ex-patriot living in London was doing. Talk about amazing moments; for me, there is nothing more amazing than the moments of trying to become a parent.

If you ever click on those Tiny Reads I have linked on the left sidebar, you may have noticed me sharing posts written by London Southern Belle. (I just moved up her two latest posts in my feed-sharer so you can easily see what she's been writing about.) I won't share her whole story, but the highlight of last week is that she had two little embryos tucked inside her and, oh how I'm hoping those little babies are thriving and growing.

I've been reading Amanda's blog for years, and wanting to understand her story and other's like hers is one of the reasons why I agreed to review a book (for Parent Bloggers Network) about infertility. I don't have any personal experience with infertility; however, I have friends who have experienced great difficulty getting on a path that led to a baby in the arms. Sometimes the path is fertility drugs; sometimes it's IVF; sometimes it's adoption. Whatever path it is, I know it was walked with great sacrifice.

  I didn't know what to expect when I picked up Maybe Baby: An Infertile Love Story, by Matthew M. F. Miller. Before reading the book, I hadn't read or even heard of his blog, although I follow it now. The book was a unique reading experience for me not only because I haven't read a book about infertility, but I haven't read a parenting/love story book written from the guy's perspective. In fact, it was precisely because there is a lack of men writing about this topic that inspired Matt to start his blog.

As for the story, it is told with wit and grace and frustration and heartache. But realIy, it's filled with honesty and humor. And not just a little bit of honesty and humor. A LOT of honesty and humor. There were times when even I squirmed a little bit over his frankness, but I reminded myself that it's good for me to understand that the process of getting pregnant is not always a simple one. As for humor, who would have thought that talking about infertility could be humorous? But Matt easily finds the tone and uses it with great care and effect. After all, those awkward moments in the doctor's office...let's just say it made me thankful to be a woman.

The story begins with Matt and his wife Constance thinking about when to start their family. They are waiting, saving up money, getting everything in order. Then they make the decision to start trying for a baby. They try and they try, and while they are certainly having fun trying, they aren't getting the positive sign on the pregnancy tests. So they turn to doctors, drugs, and diet. This process was the most eye-opening for me, and though the book could certainly serve as a guide for "how to increase your chances of getting pregnant," Matt doesn't let the narrative get too technical. The story is infused with his own fears and questions, and provides a point of view that (I think) isn't often explored.

I walked away from reading the book with a greater sensitivity and awareness to the fertility struggles that 6.1 million Americans face. Honestly, it had never crossed my mind that asking a married couple "Do you have kids?" would be an inappropriate question, and I'm still not sure that it's inappropriate to ask in every context, but I'll certainly be more thoughtful in the future. Though I try to be careful about what questions I ask others, there is room for improvement. Most definitely. More than providing lessons in etiquette and instruction, however, Maybe Baby is a testament of what true love can withstand, enduring all the bumps in the road while the one bump in particular eludes them. That should be an encouragement to anyone.

And how does the book end? The book doesn't exactly end on a triumphant note, which is why I promptly looked up Matt's blog to see how he and Constance are doing. I will say there has been some IVF triumph, but there has also been some heartache (which Matt managed to still find some humor in). While their story isn't as near to my heart as Amanda's, I'm still cheering them on that after the next several months they'll have a baby.

Not a maybe.

The Language of Parenting

One thing I have learned in my relatively short tenure as a parent is that not all words are equally effective. There is saying "no," and there is redirection: "Let's do this instead." There is saying "no," and there is instruction: "It's dangerous to stand on top of the table." There is saying "no," and there is offering choices: "Instead of coloring on the walls, precious child, how about coloring on this paper or this coloring book." (Confession: I haven't quite matured to the level of offering choices when the walls are being colored on.)

It's hard work, this constant monitoring of how we understand, mold, discipline, converse with, and encourage our children. Sometimes I succeed--I'm good at offering praise and encouragement. Sometimes I don't--I'm inconsistent in my discipline and have a shallow well of patience when the girls are distracting me from something I'm involved in. Most of the time, the only one who offers me feedback on my parenting is Jason. Which is fine, since to be quite honest I tend to not be great at receiving admonishment from someone else.

I will say that in general I'm very careful about the words (though not always my tone) I use to and around my girls. That's not because I'm a super fabulous parent; it's because all those classes in child psychology and the power of words have trained me to be conscientious in what I say around students and children (if only I were so consistently thoughtful when I'm talking to adults...*sigh*). I have always assumed my children's spirits are as sensitive as my own, so I try to make sure that I don't say something I'll regret. Don't mistake my admission as bragging because let me tell you there are plenty of things I'm not great at, but that's a different (and longer) post altogether.

  My constant vigilance of what I say helped me connect with two books we've been reading for the past few weeks. Parent Bloggers Network hooked me up with Ready for the Day! and Ready for Bed!, two books published by Free Spirit Publishing (who have some other fabulous things too, like these Story Starters in a Jar). On the surface it seems like the books might be geared towards helping kids learn how to transition through routines like breakfast or bedtime without sass or stress. Certainly the books do help promote positive behavior. However, the books are also meant to help parents learn the language of positive parenting.

As the story unfolds for each book, different parenting phrases are highlighted to show examples of the parent validating feelings, offering choices, and giving encouragement. In Ready for the Day!, the child whines about wanting to stay home with her dad instead of going to school. Her dad follows up on the whining with, "I know just how you feel. I wish we could spend the day together too." He doesn't say what might be the first reaction for many of us, "Stop whining."

It might seem hokey or too touchy-feely, but honestly it doesn't come across that way in the book. I'm all for books that help parents and children navigate the routines of the day in emotionally healthy ways. In my own personal experience, the book helped me remember the importance of validating feelings when Sydney cried at discovering we weren't going to be living in our house anymore. My knee-jerk reaction would have been to distract her from the topic and say something along the lines of "Don't cry. It'll be okay." Instead I said, "It is sad that we aren't in our old house anymore. I'm sad too. But we're going to build a new house that you'll love even more." I cried when we moved; I should certainly allow the same kind of emotion from my child.

Obviously, these books aren't meant to replace our other silly, artsy, dance-themed, farm-animal, Bible-story books, but they are a good addition to our library that remind all of us how to work together.

Now if only I could train myself to respond more appropriately to Julianne dumping juice all over the floor. Right now, I'm pretty much stuck in the rut of "exasperated sigh followed by smacking my hand to my head." I'll tell you right now, that technique isn't working.

Finding Green Gables

A couple posts ago, I wrote about reading Before Green Gables, and some of you asked me how it was. I hadn't finished it yet, so I didn't want to prematurely recommend or reject it, but today I finished it. I would have finished it last night, but I was sobbing so much I couldn't read the pages any more. And even though I woke up today with my eyes nearly swollen shut, I managed to finish the last few chapters.

The verdict is: it's really good. It's very, very sad, and if you're a parent it might make your heart break into a million pieces. But it's still good.

If you haven't read any of the Anne of Green Gables books, I absolutely do not recommend reading Before Green Gables first. The book was not written by Lucy Maud Montgomery herself; in fact, the book, by Budge Wilson, was just published earlier this year. It is, in short, one author's hypothesis of what life was like for Anne Shirley before we meet her on the train platform in Bright River. Reading this prequel to the Anne books will certainly shape your imagination when you read the series, and I really think one ought to read the Montgomery books in the order they are written (not that I'm always a literary purist, but in this case I confess to being one).

The Anne books give us a few clues into what life must have been like for her before she goes on to live with the Cuthberts (the death of her parents when she was an infant, her living with the Thomases, the Hammonds, and then the orphanage), but all in all we aren't quite sure how this eleven-year old girl came to have such a large and dramatic vocabulary, as well an ability to win the hearts of those around her. This book gives a thoroughly researched and entirely plausible idea of what events shaped Anne's life.

I am a huge Anne fan. Once upon a time I was even a member of the Anne of Green Gables society, and I still have my Kindred Spirits magazines (before they started publishing online). I remember the summer I read through the entire Anne series for the first time, and I can say that no other literary series has so profoundly affected my life. Whenever I want something beautiful, want to be encouraged, want to restore some optimism to my life, I know that the Anne books will get me there.

For as much as I enjoyed Before Green Gables, if I hadn't known what the ending would be--with Anne leaving the train to start her new life with the Cuthberts--it would have a been altogether too heart-breaking. While Anne Shirley has always been a sympathetic character, I now have an even greater context in which to place her life story. In Anne of Green Gables, when Anne believes she is going to be sent back to the orphanage and Montgomery writes, "...upstairs, in the east gable, a lonely, heart-hungry, childless friend cried herself to sleep," a first-time reader might feel pity, might even feel a bit sad. But after having read Before Green Gables that one sentence alone brings a flood of tears to my eyes because now I can imagine an even greater sorrow for this poor child who had believed with all her heart that she had finally found someone who wanted her, only to discover that she was, again, unwanted.

Of course, that's part of the magic of Before Green Gables. When you read it and feel your heart breaking for Anne, you know something she doesn't: she finds her happily ever after. Now that I'm rereading through the series, I think the prequel will help make Anne's triumph of the spirit even more uplifting than before.

I realize that Anne Shirley is a fictional character, and you might think I'm a raving lunatic for crying over this imaginary person. Except, oh, except I can't help but think of all the children who have lives like Anne's--shuttled between various homes, parents dead (either physically or emotionally), wanting so badly to be loved. For me, Before Green Gables doesn't just capture the heart of Anne Shirley, it captures the heart of so many thousands of other children who are longing to find their Green Gables. Those stories weigh on my heart.

I can, however, take away the message that L. M. Montgomery develops (and Budge Wilson continues) through the spirit of Anne Shirley: to relentlessly pursue love and beauty, even--and especially--when it's difficult. Ah yes, I am an eternal optimist, which is why it is no surprise that Anne Shirley will always be one of my most favorite literary characters of all.

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

I may be ridiculous, but I am well read

Our realtor gave us some ideas of where to declutter the house so that potential buyers aren't distracted by small things...like that huge stack of crayons on top of the china cabinet. Utilitarian? Yes. A bit of an eye-sore? Also yes.

However, Jason and I are a bit conflicted on areas that need decluttering...

Him: We should take all the books off the [built-in] book shelf in the living room.

Me: Well, not all the books.

Him: Most of the books.

Me: Some of the books.

Him: We need to highlight the space of the book shelf.

Me: But I want the people to know we read good books.

Him: ...

Me: Otherwise, they'll think we don't read.

Him: ...

Me: It says something about who we are.

Him: You are ridiculous.

Me: True.

***

So today, I'm boxing up books. I'll box up the Grisham; I'll even box up the Shakespeare. But I'm definitely leaving the L. M. Montgomery and the Amy Tan. Oh, and the Salman Rushdie. I better keep the Austen out too...

In the place of literature

For many years now, a friend and colleague of mine have had the same discussion over and over again regarding the idea of traveling to a place made immortal by great literature and/or great writers. She doesn't understand why anyone would find such places important or inspiring. "It's just a place," she reminds me when I once told her how much I enjoyed seeing where Charles Dickens lived. She delves into literary criticism that espouses the virtues of literature transcending the place where it was created. "There's nothing left there except an opportunity for people to make money off tourists."

Well. Maybe.

Except I wholeheartedly disagree.

I love seeing where great authors lived and created their literary masterpieces. For me, it makes literature so much more meaningful when I can see the environment in which it was created. Certainly, modern life has transformed what early novelists saw as they wrote out pages and pages of prose or poetry, but I can't help but believe there still remains a sliver of something. The way the light comes in through the window. The sound of the birds in the trees. The vista out the north window. Reading about Walden's Pond is one thing; seeing it is quite another.

Unfortunately, on our trip I didn't get to see Walden's Pond even though I was. this. close. We saw the sign as we made a u-turn to get back on the right road, and I thought for a brief moment we might get to see it, but I knew it wouldn't have done much good to make the trip just for the two of us who would have appreciated it. Eighth graders, for all their many...um...virtues, have no interest in Walden Pond. Although they would have dutifully taken pictures of it if we had told them to.

Nevertheless, for the brief hour that we spent in Concord (Massachusetts), we got to catch a small glimpse of where great novelists once lived. First of all, I must say that this trip was made exponentially better by the fact that my dear friend Inkling traveled along as a chaperone. She and I shirked our chaperonely duties more than a couple times I suppose, but the students fared just fine. Just by watching how Inkling studied and photographed old stone churches made me appreciate old stone church even more. If you're going to be away from your children for a week, and your husband is going to mostly preoccupied with leadership duties, I highly recommend having a friend along who will make the trip so much more fabulous.

So.

Concord.

Home of Louisa May Alcott, Henry David Thoreau, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Ralph Waldo Emerson. Talk about heavy expectations for the English department at the local high school.

I could have spent all day there, but had to be content with 60 minutes. The main focus for being in Concord at all was because of its relevance to Lexington and the Revolutionary War. I'm all for war history and battle fields, but it took a great deal of my energy to take this picture...

 

...a monument dedicated to the Revolutionary War...knowing that I was just a few feet away from touring the Old Manse, where Nathaniel Hawthorne once lived. Fortunately, not far from the monument was also this:

an old tree down by the boat house that surely Emerson, Thoreau, and Hawthorne must have visited. Maybe they leaned against that tree, waxed poetically about that tree, considered cutting it down for timber. Whatever its role in early American history, the tree survived. And I touched it. I'm counting on that tree to stir within me the Great American Novel.

What do you think, Mr. Early American? Does the tree have special literary powers?

"Ah, of course," he says, and points at yonder feature:

No, no, I protest, not special chipmunk powers! But Mr. Early American has already wandered off for his next photo op. I guess we'll never know what the tree holds.

Eventually our 60 minutes we up, and we start on our way out of town. Fortunately, our dear bus driver agreed to drive past Louisa May Alcott's house, although only a few of us got off the bus to take pictures, and none of us got to tour it. This is one that I would have enjoyed touring knowing that the house is described in Little Women.

Nevertheless, it was amazing being in Concord--even if just for a short while--and I can't wait until I can go back and spend more time there. What I really want to do is lead a literary tour of New England, one where we can read Robert Frost's poem "Fences" while sitting on old stone walls, and hang out at the docks where Herman Melville once lingered. Any takers? No? Well, we shall be content to imagine the larks that Alcott and her sisters had in the attic of her house.

I suppose location doesn't matter to some folks, but to me, seeing that window...well, it just means something to me. Whatever it is, whatever I feel, I for one will always be a tourist willing to pay to see the places of the great writers. I'm a sucker for stuff like that, I guess.

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Week 212: The Magazine Bug

Last Tuesday was the start of one of our favorite summer activities: the library's Summer Reading Fun program.

Oh boy, oh boy. We read like the crazy cats that we are, and add up those minutes which can be redeemed for prizes and awards and gift certificates. I'm so jealous that Sydney and Jules get to participate in it, wishing that my reading time counted too so I could enter my minutes in the drawing for a spa day. Because really, is a person ever too old to be rewarded for reading? I think not.

To fully participate in the program, the kids are expected to read from (or, in our case with Sydney, read to) different genres. They read mysteries, science fiction, books about nature, books about different cultures. Last year, we had no trouble checking off the different genres, except one. Magazines.

While Sydney may occasionally flip through a People magazine, I don't think that exactly qualifies. Sure, it's riveting reading, but you know. It has its limits as far as "literature" goes. But I couldn't think of what kind of magazines she should be reading. I had grown up reading Highlights (oh that Goofus and Gallant, they were a kick, weren't they?), and even though the knock-knock jokes were funny enough I didn't think Sydney would like them much.

So, I wandered through the children's section at our library and randomly picked up a magazine that I thought looked nifty enough. It had some lovely illustrations. It had interesting stories. It even had a "find the object" page, which was (and still is) one of Sydney's favorite activities. The magazine I happened to pick up was called Ladybug.

As it so happens when the stars twinkle brightly and the wind blows softly, many moons later I was asked by Parent Bloggers Network if I wanted to review Ladybug magazine. Did I? A magazine that encourages child literacy? A magazine that Jason's mom--a preschool teacher for two decades--loves to a hundred little buggy pieces? Indeed, I would.

And just as I had been smitten with the magazine last summer, I was in love all over again when we started receiving copies a couple months ago. It has wonderful pictures on high-quality paper, and plenty of classical literature sprinkled throughout. There's always a song to learn, and reoccurring characters from issue to issue. It has craft suggestions for the kids, and nearly always includes a pull-out craft that we can make into a book or mobile.

February's issue even had a beautifully illustrated poem by Robert Louis Stevenson. "Picture Books in Winter" has now become one of my favorite Stevenson poems. Lovely.

We also receive High Five, which is the pre-school version of Highlights, and would probably be Ladybug's nearest competition. There are some similarities between the two magazines: stories, music, craft activities. While both include plenty of diversity in the characters, High Five seems to have more emphasis on bringing in different languages. Ladybug, however, is printed on better paper, and does overall have a greater artistic rendering. It's more expensive than High Five, but I suspect that's due to the magazine itself being of higher quality. When my mother-in-law saw a copy of Ladybug on our table, she was tickled pink that Sydney was able to enjoy that magazine too, even though she was the one who got Syd the subscription to High Five. As she says, "High Five isn't as expensive, but Ladybug is really my favorite."

Overall, we have become big fans of Ladybug magazine, and I think now that Jules is finally past her "ripping up magazines" stage, we might be getting her the baby version of Ladybug, called Babybug.

They already love reading, and magazines are a cool way to add some extra variety to our reading schedule. We are already one step ahead of the genres to check off for the Summer Reading program. Magazines? Check.

This review was brought to you by Parent Bloggers Network.

(C) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

A Clean Toilet Goes a Long Ways

A book review brought to you by Parent Bloggers Network...

Shortly before Sydney was born, some of my former students threw a baby shower for me. They were all poor college students, and the party was where a few of them were living in a not-quite-fabulous apartment in Corvallis. Despite being college students and despite not having lots of money, I distinctly remember the yummy food, the good conversation, and A CLEAN BATHROOM. Honestly, if I had gone into labor I think I could have delivered in that bathroom, although I will say that the lighting wasn't great and the color of the tile wasn't exactly flattering. But hey, there was a pre-nursing student in the midst, so I would have been okay.

Clearly, these were students not raised by wolves.

Their ability to clean a bathroom and host a party notwithstanding, as young adults they would certainly enjoy reading Were You Raised By Wolves? Clues to the Mysteries of Adulthood, by Christie Mellor. I personally enjoyed reading it, and I am moderately clued in to adulthood. Kinda. At least, I'm responsible for small people, so that has to count for something. AND, AND! I save money, which was an entire chapter in the book.

Humorously written in a tone more like a funny older sister than a distantly polite Emily Post, Were You Raised by Wolves captures many of the elements we sometimes assume young people should know, but don't. Even I learned quite a few nifty tricks. As a sidenote that's not completely random, but is still a little bit, I have to tell you that today I received a Thank You card from one of my students who took my class this semester. Not only is it refreshing to see a young adult writing a thank you card for a class she took (for a grade!), but I was tickled pink because I love getting cards. Makes my day.

The book covers important topics--like being polite--as well as helpful cooking tips and amazing uses for baking soda (which inspired me to scrub my kitchen sink until it sparkled), good manners and good fashion, being a good-houseguest and being a polite individual, and creating your own holiday traditions as well as creating a sound budget. And for those who can't be bothered with important things like reading, Mellor fills her book with clever illustrations:

• how to shake hands: firm, look her in the eyes
• how to make a bed properly: ooh! I knew this one! pattern-side down on the top sheet so you can fold it over and make it look just like a Pottery Barn bed
• how to make Christmas ornaments: Q-TIPS! Cereal Boxes!
• how to sew on a button (while we're talking about using metal instruments, how about this nifty tip: "Pin a small safety pin to the seam of your hem and you will not have a clingy skirt or dress." Cool.)

Since the book was just hanging out in our living room, Rebekah the World's Best Nanny took a look-see through it and promptly declared it hilarious and clever. She is actually one of those college students who will make a remarkably responsible adult (since she's already a remarkably responsible adult), yet she still learned things from the book. We're hoping that her other place of employment (twig downtown) will carry the book for sale.

In the interest of full disclosure (and knowing the world views of many of my readers), I'll mention the fact there is one element of language in the book which is written in the context of "don't say this." I'm not mentioning it because I happen to be someone who belongs to--as the book puts it--a "certain fundamentalist religious sect," but because I'd want you to be comfortable with that fact before buying the book for your soon-to-graduate niece. That's all I have to say about that.

That so many of my former high school students are now finishing up college, plus I teach college students, and my brother is graduating from BSU in a few weeks with a graduate degree in kinesiology means that I should be giving this book to more than half the people I know. That's a lot of books. But since I'm following Ms. Mellor's advice on the importance of saving money so that we can build a house, I'll just buy copies for my brother and my favorite students, and give the rest of those fabulous new adults thoughtful cards and a high-five.

The book concludes with the perfect word of encouragement:

"Be a kind and thoughtful person. Don't forget to drink water and wear a hat in the sun, but don't always come inside when it's raining. Splash in a few puddles and enjoy the showers, so you'll appreciate the sunshine that much more." --Christie Mellor

I may have to borrow that quote for those cards I'll be sending out.

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Week 202: You Picked a Fine Time to Read to Me, Lucille (Clifton)

(last Thursday...)
Student: What are you doing on Sunday?
Me: Sunday? Church. Laundry.
Student: Want to go to Powell's and then hear Lucille Clifton?
Me: For real? Totally for real?
Student: Yeah. Some us from my minority lit class are going and Dr. --- has an extra ticket. I asked if I could give it to you.
Me: Rock on.

As an added bonus I got to give my student (photographed here) a tour of Powell's since she hadn't ever really been there. She's a newly minted English major, so of course it was quite a privilege to take her to the book mecca of Oregon. (Sidenote: on our drive to Portland, my student said she was interested in looking at home interior books "if they have any." I chuckled. "Yep, they'll have a few.")

That's what I got to do Sunday afternoon and evening. Wander around Powell's, (where I discovered there's a NEW Mo Willems book, The Pigeon Wants a Puppy. I was crazy with delight!), eat dinner at Old Town Pizza, and listen to Lucille Clifton read poetry.

It was simply amazing.

My confession is that I don't really like to read poetry that much, but oh how I do love to hear it. Ms. Clifton's voice is rich and resonant. She didn't have much of a plan on what poems she was going to read, so she just wandered her way through a couple of her books and loose sheets of paper. She introduced each poem with a story, and naturally she spoke a great deal about race. Certainly I couldn't relate to a lot of the difficulties that she has experienced, but hearing how the world has sometimes unkindly treated her--she a celebrated and honored poet--made me even more determined to teach my children the truth of Ms. Clifton's words: "I want everyone to be noticed."

I loved hearing her talk about her granddaughters, her experiences, and her opinions on education, religion, and politics. I laughed at her story about meeting President Clinton ("What an insult! He didn't once try to seduce me!"). I nodded at her descriptions of motherhood. My eyes filled with tears twice: when she read "lumpectomy eve" (about one breast comforting another before breast cancer surgery) and when she told about her mother burning all of her own (that is, her mother's) poetry because Lucille's father said, "No wife is mine is going to be a poet." Even now, the remembrance of Ms. Clifton talking about those things makes me emotional.

We almost got through the night without her reading "homage to my hips"--and I was growing increasingly worried that I wouldn't hear her read it--but during the question and answer time someone asked her, "Tell us about your hips, Lucille!"

And so she did.

Almost as soon as the last word was out of her mouth, the audience erupted with cheering. Because, honestly, the night wouldn't have been complete without it. I found an audio recording online of Ms. Clifton reading that poem that I was going to link here, but it's her younger voice, and as great as it is it's just not as powerful as the voice she has now at 71 years old.

She also got a question about the writing process, which I was keenly interested in hearing. How does she write poems? "It's a mystery," she said. "Poems know that I will say 'yes' to them, and so they come. They fill my whole body." Isn't that lovely? So perfect.

Oh! even before Lucille Clifton spoke, the night was already a treasure: Portland's own Ursula K. Le Guin gave the introduction. When the Literary Arts director announced who was giving Lucille Clifton's introduction, you could hear an audible gasp and squeal from the audience because, well, Ursula! Ursula K. Le Guin! Do you remember me cheering about her last summer? Or that I have her book Steering the Craft linked on my sidebar? It was already a treat that I was going to hear Lucille Clifton, but then to hear that I was going to hear Le Guin--even if just for a couple minutes--I could not believe it.

Suddenly, I had this image of classic video footage of girls screaming and fainting at Elvis concerts because I totally could relate to that. I had tears in my eyes and my heart was pounding and I actually uttered the words, "Ohmigosh ohmigosh. Ursula Le Guin and Lucille Clifton," and then I was speechless. I was in the presence of Literary Rockstars.

I totally wish I could have had them autograph my left boob. Ah, just kidding.

Clifton and Le Guin autographs on my jeans would have been way cooler. I could have worn them to class tomorrow.

*

homage to my hips

by lucille clifton

these hips are big hips

they need space to

move around in.

they don't fit into little

petty places. these hips

are free hips.

they don't like to be held back.

these hips have never been enslaved,

they go where they want to go

they do what they want to do.

these hips are mighty hips.

these hips are magic hips.

i have known them

to put a spell on a man and

spin him like a top!

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Sydney's Saturday Story #2

As promised, this week Sydney "reads" a Mo Willem's story. If you haven't read Mo Willems, your life is not complete. Really. He's a clever one.

The first Willem's book I got (Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus) was from Devon, but we have since added several more to our collection (Edwina, Knuffle Bunny). I found out a few months ago that Willems has started an early reader collection that is perfect for kids just starting out to read because the story's vocabulary is fairly limited. While Sydney isn't exactly an early reader--more like, young memorizer--she did learn to read her very first word this week:

"Stop"

As in seeing a stop sign and saying, "S-T-O-P! That spells 'STOP.' I can read!" Very exciting.

Anyways, back to Mo...here's Today I Will Fly. The story is about Piggie who wants to fly, but her friend Elephant isn't very optimistic about it. In the end, the pig does fly. Sort of. With some help, at any rate.

(video 4:38)

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Listening to Stories

Thank you for all your comments and emails regarding the "should we or shouldn't we?" question of kids. It felt good to finally express my thoughts on it, and I appreciated the insight you gave me!

*****

For more than a year now, we have been going to the library to listen to stories. Whether we hear Miss Connie, Miss Karen, or Miss Shannon, we always love it. We're as dedicated to Family Bedtime Storytime as we are to eating breakfast and brushing our teeth--which is to say, we rarely miss it.

Even though Sydney has a great attention span for us reading her stories, she doesn't always follow along with the stories she hears at the library. Lots of distractions, lots of tending to the younger sister who definitely doesn't pay attention to the stories. But she's certainly picking up more from the stories than she did before. Last night in particular, there was a lot of running back and forth to tell us when something in the story reminds of her something from her real life. "Grandma and Grandpa are in Egypt!" she told us when the alphabet story reached E. "I know an Olivia!" when the O characters were named. "I have a grandpa named Steve!" She's figuring it out.

Knowing that this stage would eventually be coming, a couple months ago I started looking for a certain version of "Peter and the Wolf" that I loved listening to as a kid. I can clearly remember putting the record on and hearing the oboe, the cello (maybe?), and other instruments as Peter and his animal friends searched for the Wolf. I don't quite recall all the details of the story--something about the cat maybe dying, but then not really, hooray! something about a bird?--but I can hear the music clearly. I loved listening to that story.

I did a brief search for the version I grew up with, but either lost patience or got tired of listening to versions that weren't the right one. I had great hopes for a version recommended in a parenting magazine, but it was seriously awful. Horrid. I need to just call my mom and ask her all the pertinent information, but she's in Egypt. Or probably at this moment, in Israel. My dad, sister and grandma are there too. (Check out my sister's post from Egypt that has all sorts of cool pics.)

Anyway, as luck would have it, around the time I first started searching I received copies of Amy Friedman's Tell Me a Story: Timeless Folktales From Around the World and Tell Me a Story 2: Animal Magic. Both these CDs have received great reviews from Cool Mom Picks and rightly so. Listening to the stories makes me remember the magic of sitting in the basement of our house as a kid, eyes closed, envisioning the stories taking place. I think I was lucky as a kid because all I have are fond memories of listening to stories on records. Probably not all the stories were fabulous, but even the record of "Benji" and "Benji the Hunted" were among my faves. Especially since the record had a picture of Benji printed right on it. So cool.

Well, Amy Friedman's stories are cool too. They're multi-cultural enough that Jason is considering having his World Cultures class listen to some of the stories. The wonderful music is by Laura Hall (she of Whose Line is it Anyway? fame), and the narration includes all the kinds of voices that people should be using when they're reading stories (although I have to admit that no one can beat Jim Dale--who narrates the Harry Potter books--for amazing vocal delivery).

Sydney isn't quite ready to be listening to stories in the car. She tries, but she's still a books-with-pages kind of girl. That's okay. There's still plenty of years ahead of her for listening to stories. Just enough time for me to find that version of Peter and the Wolf that I love. In the meantime, I've been listening to the stories myself (my favorite story is called "A Sense of Theft" from the first collection...so clever). I never get tired of listening to stories.

*****

If you or your kids are into listening to stories, I have Ms. Friedman's newest Tell me a Story album to give away. Tell me a Story 2: Animal Magic features seven tales that pull from Nigerian, Chinese, Australian, East Indian, French Canadian, Native American, and Guatemalan storytelling traditions. No road trip is complete without some great stories to go along. Leave a comment, and I'll choose a winner Saturday morning at 10 am PST.

*****

Just for my own future reference, any audiostories you'd recommend to kids? I can't imagine our CD collection of stories will ever outpace our book collection, but since Sydney does know how to run the iPod then we might as well put some stories on it!

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

Sydney's Saturday Story

If there's anything that compares to the joy of reading, it's the joy of watching your child read. Even though Sydney doesn't exactly read yet, she has an excellent memory for books. I love watching her climb up into the reading chair in the living room, open a book, and start telling the story. One of these days she'll surprise me and actually start reading the words rather than reciting them from memory, but I'm in no hurry. She'll figure out how to read eventually, in her own timing. And when she does...oh boy. I have a whole shelf of books just waiting for her.

Until then, I wanted to record some of these fun moments of Sydney and her favorite books. I know these videos are longer than anyone will want to watch, but that's okay. They're still fun for me to listen to. And I bet Sydney's cousin Clover will probably like it too. They're crazy about each other.

Today's story is The Baby Beebee Bird, by Diane Redfield Massie, illustrated by Steven Kellogg. It's the story of a little baby bird who keeps the zoo awake with all his singing. The animals are none too happy to have their sleep disturbed, but they devise a plan to get back at the little bird for keeping them awake. All day long they "beebee bobbibobbi!" to keep the baby bird awake, so that in the end they all get to sleep through the night.

I've had a couple of baby beebee birds keep me awake a time or two. Life is certainly much better when everyone sleeps at night, yes?

*****

(c) Creature Bug 2008. All rights reserved.

reading self-indulgence

Thank you for leaving such comforting comments. I don't know why the heck I feel like I'm being self-indulgent for crying--especially since I would never say that towards anyone else--but sometimes I'm just a crazy guarded person who has this insane idea that I need to put on a brave and happy face all the time. I don't know about myself sometimes. Just weird, I guess.

One small unexpected pleasure amidst this week of turmoil has been a book I picked up. I had reserved it at the library months ago, when I was in the mood to read it, and when it finally came around to my turn to check it out I did so only because I was afraid I'd have to wait months more before it would come back around to me. While it got some fabulous reviews, a cursory glance through the Amazon reviews let me know that some people hate this book. Therefore, I started the book with very low expectations. If I hate it, I told myself, I won't read it.

Instead, I'm loving it. Or at least, am feeling entertained by it. Surely many of you have already read Eat, Pray, Love on account of it being a bestseller and all. Perhaps you loved it; perhaps not so much. As for me, however, I'm just enjoying it for what it is and not worrying about what it isn't. I think I needed to read about someone finding her way out of depression, even though Ms. Gilbert and I are quite different individuals. One of the major complaints against the book is how self-indulgent the author is, but so far (and I just finished the first section about her travels through Italy) it doesn't bother me. Sometimes, as I have discovered and learned and realized over the course of the last 24 hours, self-indulgence is okay in small doses. Especially when it involves pedicures, good books, or accepting that it's okay to cry about the messy house sometimes.

Anyways, it's not a perfect book, but that's okay. I'm not a perfect reader.

*****

(c) 2008 by Creature Bug. All rights reserved.

"Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

"Can't they see that the Grinch in my story is the Hero of Christmas?
Sure he starts out as a villain, but it's not how you start out that counts.
It's what you are at the finish." --Dr. Seuss

Happy 50th Birthday, Mr. Grinch!

(I guess, technically, his birthday was October 12th, but it was just today that I saw there's a 50th Anniversary Retrospective that looks like fun. Might have to get it since I do love the Grinch's small heart that grew three times that day.)

Week 185: Imaginative Play

I saw an article in the newspaper last week about kids and imaginative play. Some researchers were alarmed that kids weren't learning how to play on their own, watching too much tv and listening to their iPods too much, and consequently....well, I don't know. I didn't finish reading the article, but I suspected the findings would include something like 'let kids play more on their own, powering toys with their imagination instead of remote controls and high-powered batteries.'

I didn't finish reading it because, truthfully, I don't worry about Sydney and imaginative play. Once upon a time I did. I worried that she'd never play on her own and that I'd have to entertain her for the rest. of. my. life. Which isn't to say that I don't love playing with Sydney, I do. But I also wanted her to be able to play on her own and entertain herself. After we had her vision checked and got her glasses, she became much more willing to play away from us (maybe because she could finally see!). She even had her own posse of imaginary friends that she would pull from the mirror and "line up" on the floor. Her "friend" Dawby first visited us a year ago, and comes and goes at random times. And as for Jules, she is more than willing to wander away from us and play on her own. I'm sure it helps that she has a sister around.

Even though I don't think kids need fancy toys to encourage imaginative play, a certain selection of well-made toys can go a long way. I love blocks (even though they end up all over the place) and I love the little play kitchen that both girls are so enamored with (even though the plastic foods find their way to every place but back to the little kitchen). Several weeks ago we added another well-made toy to our collection, courtesy Parent Bloggers Network: Discovery Channel's Ready Set Learn! Lift-Off Rocket.

The timing for getting the rocket couldn't have been better. Sydney had been introduced to Little Einstein's Rocketship, and our library had just converted the Discovery Room into a science fiction exploration center. We were totally spaced out...in a good way.

As soon as we got the Lift-Off Rocket, Sydney was clamoring for me to get it out the box. She recognized right away what it was, and was "flying" it around the house in no time. The four little space critters were shuttled through the living room, zooming through the hallway, and having adventures in Sydney's room. In Sydney's imagination, the little animal astronauts would have breakfast in one of the rocket's compartments and take a nap on the fold-down bed in the other. Maybe while Commander Bunny Astronaut was talking to Houston, Commander Lamby-kins was rolling along on the space buggy exploring the little moon crater (all included with the Rocket).

It's a toy that does take a couple batteries in order to power its blast-off sounds, but it is mostly powered by imagination. My favorite kind of toy.

Turns out, the library has the exact same Rocketship in the Discovery Room, except instead of animal astronauts, they have people astronauts. Sydney was delighted to see that she could play with the Lift-Off Rocket at the library as well as at home. Because I adore our library and our children's librarians (Hooray for Ms. Karen and Ms. Connie!!), I see their endorsement of the Rocket as a good sign. True, spending nearly $40 on a toy is kind of out of our price range; however, I will say it is well-built and one of those toys whose pieces are not so small that I worry about Julianne playing with it. Jules is big on sucking on the little astronauts (I can hear them now: "Slobber monster straight ahead, Captain!"), and they have held up quite well. Also, I must mention that the product is made in China, but that Discovery Channel hasn't had any product recalls so I'm believing that it's safe. I haven't yet moved to the point of refusing to buy any toys from China, although I'm close.

I can't leave you with just a recommendation of a toy without giving you my favorite resource that will assist your kiddos in developing that imagination of theirs: BOOKS!

Some of our favorite space books:

• Papa, Please Get the Moon for Me, by Eric Carle. Monica's father fulfills her request for the moon by taking it down after it is small enough to carry, but it still changes. Very sweet.
• Beegu, by Alexis Deacon. A small, yellow creature from space finds no welcome on earth until visiting a children's playground. Good for teaching about acceptance.
• Mooncakes, by Frank Asch. We love Asch's Moonbear books--they're wonderful stories about a little bear and his love of the moon. The illustrations are simple, yet creative enough to capture a child's imagination.

Imagination, prepare for lift-off...5...4...3...2...1...Blast off!

It's beginning to look a lot like...

...Christmas.

We have officially kicked off the Christmas season. Lights up? Check. Christmas tree? Check. Peppermint candle burning? Check. All the Christmas CDs out and lined up to be rotated through the player? Check.

The last few years we have driven up the mountains to get our Christmas tree (for a view of where we get our tree, check out Karen's pictures--we go to the same place they do), and last Saturday, Jason and his dad trekked up to the wilderness to cut down some trees. The thing is--which we knew ahead of time--we were staying up in Washington over Thanksgiving weekend, and had driven the car up there. Therefore, there was no real way to get the tree home. What we would have had to do is cut the tree, leave it at Jason's parents' house, and then drive the truck up there next weekend. The truck which gets approximately 15 mpg. The gallon of gas which costs approximately an arm and a leg (or just over $3 if you prefer). The drive which is 60 miles one way.

Turns out, we're not that committed to having a wild Christmas tree in our living room. Long story longer: we left the tree with Jason's parents who are going to find a nice home for the tree, and yesterday we went to Tucker's U-Cut Tree Farm (which is about 2 miles from our house) and chopped one down. It's a nice tree, even though I am not used to seeing shaped Christmas trees. They lack a certain character which I usually demand of my trees. Nevertheless, it holds the ornaments just fine and sparkles in a lovely way. Sydney is so funny and adoring of the tree. If she was out of the living room for more than 10 minutes, whenever she would come back in she would exclaim, "Ohhh! Look at our tree! Isn't it beautiful?" That girl has some serious Christmas spirit.

She got to participate in the hanging of the ornaments tradition, and for the first time Jason was not the one to put the angel on the tree. At first Sydney thought that a star should go on the tree, but once she saw the angel she was convinced that it could adorn the top of the tree. "She's beeYOUtiful," sighed Sydney. Once our tree was decorated, then she got to put some ornaments on her very own tabletop tree that is in her room. The favorite ornament? The Winnie the Pooh ornament, circa 1979. We got it from Jason's parents, who had given it to Jason when he was three. And coincidentally, Sydney gets it this year, and she's three. How about that.

Another highlight of the day was being able to give Sydney a gift that has been three years in the making. Way back in November 2004, Devon, Sydney, and I heard Chris Van Allsburg speak in Portland, and I managed to get an autographed copy of The Polar Express for Sydney. I checked back in my blog archives, and was reminded of some things I learned about Mr. Van Allsburg:

"Did you know that he was a sculptor first, and then decided to do children's books? Did you know he has two daughters, one named Sophie, and used them as models for his upcoming book (which is actually about two boys). And the monkeys in Jumanji were modeled after his two neighbor boys. And I especially liked his alphabet book called The Z was Zapped! ... a book about terrible things that happen to the alphabet."

I remember that I really like that alphabet book, but still don't have it. I remember that I loved the way he read his stories. And I remember looking at this tiny little person in my arms and not being able to imagine her ever old enough to appreciate the book, even though I knew the day would come eventually.

Today was the day.

As I was sorting through Sydney's closet, I saw the gift box that held the signed book, a CD of the story being read, and a sleigh bell (from Santa's sleigh, don't you know). I thought, This is the year she gets this book.

I pulled it down, and handed the box to Sydney who opened it with great delight. I turned the page and showed her the "very special page," which she thought was very cool and ran to show Daddy and Rebekah.

I took this photo back in 2004, and here I get to show it off again. Only this time, I can write about Sydney hearing the story for the first time, and ringing her sleigh bell at the end of the book. Add to it a rousing chorus of "Hot Chocolate" from The Polar Express movie soundtrack, and it is crazy exciting around here.

As many of you have commented already, I have to agree that experiencing Christmas with a child in the house is WAY more fun than I thought it would be. If you don't have a kid around for Christmas, you should just find one and read them a Christmas story or make cookies with them or watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer with them. I'm not sure if just any child will do--certainly a naughty one will turn you into a Grinch faster than you can say Kris Kringle. But your regular, average, bright-eyed child would be a good pick for some Christmas adventure. I guarantee, their Christmas joy makes everything even merrier.

By the way, that Polar Express gift box came with an audio cassette tape of the book being read, and since we don't do cassette tapes, if you're interested drop me a note in the comments and I'll mail it to you. Going to Alida tonight, when I see her at Becca's Blog Bash!

Daring Girls

Growing up on nine acres surrounded by farmland, creeks, and forests meant one thing for me: I was outside a lot. My siblings and I built forts all over our property, worked on digging holes to China, and made mud pies with duck feathers stuck in them for decoration. If we were feeling adventurous, we would chew on mint leaves or drink water out of the duck pond (no, it wasn't clean, but it didn't kill us either). We'd climb the apple trees, hide under the holly bushes, and pull all the heads off the roses to give to my mom. It was, of course, a moderately dangerous childhood, but it was a good one and we all survived it quite well.

If all goes according to our plans, I'll be moving back to that Family Farm so that Sydney can grow up there too. Really, the number one reason for moving there is because of our girls. We want them to grow up in that environment: outside, playing, adventuring, spying, thrilling, running, daring. Factor in Jason's love of sports and his enthusiasm for teaching the girls to kick and throw a ball, and I think it's safe to say that our girls will grow up hearing that they are strong and smart, individuals who can make a difference in the world. Girls who can make a difference.

In a few years--maybe for her 8th birthday--I'm going to give Sydney a book that I know she'll love and will help foster this spirit of adventure. It's a book about building forts and making friendship bracelets. It instructs girls on the rules of basketball and how to use a pencil to tie up your hair. It has chapters on influential women scientists, as well as slumber party games. In short, it celebrates all sides to being a girl: the smart side, the creative side, the side that plays clapping games with our girl friends. The book? The Daring Book for Girls by Andrea Buchanan and Miriam Peskowitz.

As a follow-up to The Dangerous Book for Boys, Buchanan and Peskowitz created a book that is sure to be a hit with young girls, probably in the range of 8-14 years old. In fact, as I was reading it, a strong wave of nostalgia washed over me, particularly those grade school years, although many of the chapters such as negotiating a salary, going to Africa, finance, and changing a tire would appeal to any age.

Before I got the book from Parent Bloggers Network I was really curious to see what the authors would deem "Girly Topics," and I was pleasantly surprised to see that they both embraced the stereotypes (playing foursquare, riding horses, writing letters) and went beyond them (paddling a canoe, karate moves, math tricks). Not every chapter is essential--I'm thinking of the one on ouija boards that I didn't much care for--but almost all are entertaining in their own way. I suppose there are topics in the book that boys would find interesting, but I wouldn't recommend it to them. They can get their own book; this glittery blue-covered one is for us girls.

Even though there's a lot of jumping and shouting about how women are the same as men, I think that seriously undercuts the uniqueness of being a girl. The way we interact with our friends, the way we perceive the world, the joy in our adventures--we girls are phenomenal in our own way. This book celebrates being a girl, and has something for every type of girl out there: the athlete, the brain, the outdoorsy, the style-maven. If you're wondering what to get that niece or cousin or neighbor girl for a gift, I think The Daring Book for Girls would be a good one.

It's lead free, better-than-textbook quality, and will provide more hours of entertainment than a Disney movie. It doesn't tell you how to throw a ball overhand, but that's okay because Jason taught Sydney how to do that last night. Some things will just be part of her growing up in our house, and some things she'll get to discover herself. Here's to being daring.

Read for the Record: September 20

I may not breeze through adult novels at lightning quick rates, but children's literature? Can't get enough of it. I could write a review on a children's book every day of the year for the rest of my life and never run out of books.

Today's book is The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf, and it is such a thoughtful, peaceful book that we thoroughly enjoyed reading. It's the selected book for today's Read for the Record event, and if you have kids or are a kid at heart I encourage you to read the book. You don't even need the actual book because an online version is here, or you could even listen to Maya Angelou read the book (her voice is so extraordinary!). Plus, there are Read for the Record parties going on all over the country, but we'll have to miss out on that since Portland is the closest one and there's no time to make that drive today.

For every person who pledges to read The Story of Ferdinand, Hanna Anderson will give $1 towards Jumpstart's Children's Literacy program.

We read it. Did you?

A book featuring Sydney in a tiger suit

You, too, could be this lucky.

Assorted HP links

Even though I suspect many people have already found these links, I wanted to post them here not only for my own personal future reference, but also for others.

• Here's the book review on Slate.com that discusses book 7
• JK Rowling's gives her thoughts on what happens after the epilogue (the entire Today Show interview is here)
• Webchat with JKR, who answers a few questions (more succinct summary here)
• Very funny Potter Puppet Pals video: The Mysterious Ticking Noise. (Thanks to Inkling for sending me this link)

Also two of my fellow bloggers have discussions going (WARNING: SPOILERS IN THE FOLLOWING LINKS): Raehan and Jen. On Raehan's book blog I left a comment that includes a quote from Megan, who emailed me some of her impressions of the book and had the most fabulous insight into one of Snape's lines. It was brilliant.

(No Book 7 spoilers in the following paragraphs, but spoilers for earlier books...)

Whatever you may think about the Harry Potter books, there is no denying the gift JK Rowling has for storytelling. I know that some more conservative readers have had issues with the magical element of Rowling's books, but I suspect those that have the strongest moral qualms against the book haven't actually read them. I vividly recall a professor of mine announcing in horrified tones that local schools were assigning HP books as classroom reading; I remember the books being banned at a school where I taught; I have read sermons from ministers who warn parents against the dangers of Harry Potter. I think it's all nonsense, really. Anyone who has read through the books can tell you that Rowling's intent is not to glorify the occult or convince children to become witches and wizards. Rather, the fantasy element is all part of the joy of the books, part of the adventures, and--pardon the pun--part of the magic of the books. (And if there were any lingering doubts about Rowling's motives, I should think that the miracle that happens in the chapter entitled "King's Cross" might serve as a fitting rebuttal.)

Hopefully people will see that the series as a whole isn't about darkness and evil. The magical element merely puts the themes in an imaginative context that is both clever and interesting. These aren't dark books, ready to corrupt young minds. Certainly, they aren't for very young children. A bit too scary, I think, a bit too much loss for a child to understand and handle emotionally. But for older kids, I hardly think there is a better example of friendship than what we see between Harry, Ron and Hermione. Above all else, these books are about love. They are about good prevailing, about bravery, sacrifice and friendship. They hold wisdom and loyalty in high regard, and those who treat others (whether person or elf) with disdain will, in the end, reap what they sow. Obviously, the bad guys lose, but even some of the good guys lose too. Sirius, one of my most favorite characters, meets his end partially because of how he treats Kreacher. Peter Pettigrew betrays his friend James perhaps because he always felt the sting of being the uncool kid hanging out with the cool crowd. Conversely, Neville (who also was the uncool kid in the cool crowd) remains loyal to Harry, Ron, and Hermione because they are kinder, more encouraging friends. He learns from their example and becomes a better person because of his friendship with them.

I'm looking forward to the day that I get to introduce my girls to Harry Potter. It's a long ways off, I know, but it'll still be exciting. And lucky (and also unlucky) for them, they won't have to wait for the next book to come out. I do hope, but rather doubt, that another great literary hero emerges in their reading lifetime, just so they can experience the thrill of receiving a book after waiting for it. Experience the joy at waiting with crowds of other people for a book, not a movie or a video game or a fancy phone. Experience the spark of community in seeing so many others reading and talking about a book.

There will, however, never be another character like Harry Potter. In creating The Boy Who Lived, Rowling also breathed life into others. For a brief moment the headlines were about crowds of people at bookstores and parties of children celebrating the joys of reading. Those of us interested in the world of Harry Potter were part of a community, distracted however momentarily from the other very real dark forces that do exist in our world. Through her books, Rowling taught us how to live as well -- with friends, with bravery, courage, and love. In the end, good wins.

Many thanks, Ms. Rowling. Bravo.

PS: And a very happy 27th birthday to Harry Potter :)

PPS: Addendum link that disagrees with some of what I've written (and which by some fluke chance managed to link me at the bottom of the article)

The Obvious

(My apologies in advance to Margaret, for mentioning HP news...)

We didn't pre-order a copy of the new Harry Potter book, but had planned all along on getting one today. One might figure with all the frenzy it would be well near impossible to find a copy, except that of course, it isn't. Publishing companies are so much better prepared than the video game/technology/computer industry. A quick stop by Borders revealed dozens and dozens of copies, and I didn't have to wait in line at all. The store still had free HP posters to hand out, which I turned down with the excuse of "I don't have the foggiest idea where I'd hang that." For as much as I enjoy the books, they will certainly not be dictating the decor of my house.

Keeping with tradition, I got the audiobook (because I haven't read any of the books except a speed read through the first one, which makes it peculiar when I'm trying to spell names or terms), and am already trying to figure out how we'll manage the 21 listening hours it requires. I was almost tempted to get the hardcover version, but didn't because I always read the end of book before I actually get to the end. (There's no rule against it, so don't scold me.) Jason wouldn't have appreciated me knowing the end before him, and I wouldn't have been able to keep from telling him, so the choice for the audio version was easy.

I wish the best of luck to all you parents out there who are squeezing in your HP reading time as best as you can. May your children be sleepy early tonight!

Even though I'm 100% sure I'm not pregnant...

...I've been reading a book about pregnancy.

I will say upfront that this has to be the most altruistic thing I've done lately. Read a book about pregnancy, that is. I read for all you hopeful and future pregnateering women out there. Because as we all know, I enjoy pregnancy as much as I enjoy...I can't even think of an equal comparison. I'd rather do my taxes, go swimsuit shopping, have my wisdom teeth pulled out and read Beloved again--all at the same time--than be pregnant. Me and pregnancy just aren't friends, except at the end when I get a beautiful baby out of the whole ordeal. Otherwise, it makes me muy loco.

And yet, here I sit, reading Body, Soul, and Baby by Dr. Tracy Gaudet (who gets help from freelance writer Paula Spencer). I was not quick to email the lovely ladies at Parent Bloggers Network regarding this review, I admit. Refer to previous paragraph for reasons why. However, in the end I decided that since it's possible I'll experience pregnancy again, reading Body, Soul, and Baby might be helpful. Afterall, the other 3 books I read during pregnancy (only with Sydney, I refused to read anything educational whilst Jules was rumbling in my tummy) didn't inspire me to read them again. Except one that told me what exercises to do after my ab muscles ripped in half.

What makes Body, Soul, and Baby different from other pregnancy books is its soulful approach to pregnancy. It initially comes across as rather touchy feeling, but after several pages I started warming up to Gaudet. She gives lots of real-life stories that she has encountered from her practice, so the stories and advice she gives ring true. I especially appreciated her run down of all the different emotions that expectant moms can feel. So often we want pregnancy to be this romantic, blissful, super-happy time, and while that is true for some moms, it was not true for me. Even though both my pregnancies were planned, I didn't ever really revel in the beauty of it. It was just something I had to go through, which made me feel guilty (because there are plenty of women who can't experience pregnancy) and then I had a hard time getting out of that funky depression/guilt thing. Gaudet hopes to change this cycle and validate all feelings with her words of encouragement. She writes,

Remember--no feelings are bad ones. By acknowledging frankly how you feel, you're actually less likely to simmer in guilt. If you are having severe nausea and vomiting, then on a purely physical level, you are miserable. Owning up to that feeling does not negate the happiness and excitement you may also be feeling about the pregnancy. (page 121)

Gaudet hopes to create a different framework for thinking about pregnancy, providing exercises that expectant moms can do in order to check in with themselves, their bodies, and their baby. Tools like dialoguing with your physical and nonphysical self and using dreamagery (a type of focused imagery exercise) might read a little too New Agey for some moms, but I think the concepts behind them are good. Namely, that we slow down, calm down, and create moments of stillness as we experience pregnancy. I can't say for certain that I would have used these tools when I was pregnant (because I was so stubborn about not wanting to let it affect me), but if I had, I know it would have forced me to give up so much of the negative energy I was harboring.

In addition to working through the stages of pregnancy, this book gives the best and most comprehensive chapter on labor and delivery I've ever read. There's even an illustration and explanation of an epidural, which I had been totally clueless about until I asked Jason how it worked when he saw me get one when Jules was born. Since he was mildly grossed out by the procedure, my information from him was a bit sketchy, and BSB filled in the blanks.

Gaudet does a stand up job addressing postpartum issues, and my favorite quote of the book pops up on page 441 when she attempts to answer the question of How Long is "Postpartum":

...I most like the model followed in some Asian cultures in which it is traditionally believed that the postpartum period is one full year long. Obviously a woman in this day and age in our culture can rarely take a full year to "recover" from childbirth, nor does she need to. But this perspective recognizes that while physical recovery from childbirth requires only a matter of weeks, the whole person requires a more generous span of time. (boldfacing mine)

I love this. It just seems to resonate with me, the whole idea that I'm still working on getting used to my body, my child, my life a year after delivery. I think in Canada they get a year off for maternity leave (yes?), which supports this idea that twelve weeks is not enough to "get over" being pregnant. Maybe it's just me, but Gaudet's words gave me permission to keep reflecting on this postpartum stage that I'm in. And that's a healthy thing.

Whether or not expectant moms would use just this book for the pregnancy journey is a matter of opinion. There were lots of great illustrations and stories, although it didn't have as many charts as I've seen in other books. That's all just a matter of visual organization and learning styles. Either way, I think Gaudet brings a much needed perspective to pregnancy, one that's mindful, thoughtful, and soulful. How's that for wonderful?

Have you had your riboflavin today?

There is something a bit ironic about waking up earlier than usual to write a review on a book that addresses overcoming fatigue. My husband is sleeping, my kids are sleeping, and here I am, typing away because I should have done this last night and, obviously, didn't. So, allow me to get to the point, and then back to bed to continue my project of overcoming fatigue.

Even though sleep helps a lot in the this particular area, I also have a slew of other ideas that I'm trying thanks to a new medical reference book I received from Parent Bloggers Network. The 24-Hour Pharmacist, written by Suzy Cohen, is medical advice that doesn't require a doctor and also doesn't require prescription medications. While I would never in a million years hand over my Excedrin for Migraine medication because it would render me incapable of functioning, I am interested in trying out some of the alternative recommendations that might help alleviate these problems. As soon as I got the book, I looked in the handy end-of-the-book index (because don't even think about handing me a medical reference book that doesn't have an index) and scanned for migraines. 'Suzy's Secrets From Behind the Counter' on page 75:

If you're prone to menacing migraines, try about 400 daily mg of riboflavin. If you're taking birth-control pills and get these or any other type of debilitating headache around your period, it's possible that the pill is wiping out this vital nutrient.

While I'm sure that what I'm taking isn't wiping out my riboflavin, it's quite possible that I simply don't have enough. After looking at this tip, I glanced down to the page to read about the effects of having depleted folic acid: low appetite, forgetfulness, depression, insomnia, crankiness, fatigue, and anxiety.

Well, that's very interesting. And inspires me to be more consistent about taking my two daily Flintstones (the red ones are my favorite!) so that I can at least make some attempts to get folic acid. Quite possibly I'm forgetful, depressed, cranky and fatigued just because I'm not sleeping well since a certain little someone interrupts my dreams around 4 am. Or maybe I'm not getting enough exercise. Or maybe I'm not eating healthy enough. I don't know. Either way it's not going to hurt me to take my vitamins since I know I'm not getting all my required nutrients from my eating habits. Plus, Flintstones are cheaper than Zoloft after all.

But back to the whole overcoming fatigue thing: the first chapter of the book has all kinds of tips regarding this issue. Suzy Cohen had my attention from the first page: "don't let your doctor prescribe antidepressants until you've ruled out other causes of fatigue, particularly low thyroid hormone, adrenal burnout, imbalanced hormones or side effects from medication." I remembered this when I went to my doctor a couple weeks ago and said, "I'm exhausted." I listened closely to what she said next, testing her to see if her recommendation matched Ms. Cohen's advice. Her response: "Let's run some bloodwork and get your thyroid tested." Ah, my smart doctor passed Ms. Cohen's test. (Turns out my thyroid is fine. Yay.)

I'm not against medications (see above regarding my dependence on Excedrin), but this book has lots of great tips on things we can do other than pop pills. Chapters on coping with anxiety. Chapters on heart health. It also has a whole chapter ("Drug Muggers") on what your medications might be depleting from your body. For instance, I did not even consider the fact that taking Excedrin on an almost daily basis, while curing me of my headaches, might be causing my anxiety because it's mugging essential nutrients from my body. Sure, that makes sense to you, but I'm just trying to get through the day without my head exploding. How on earth am I suppose to connect the dots on that?

I have a bundle of reference books that talk about my kids' ailments, but this is a good one for me. For adults. For people who don't feel 100% healthy all the time. This five part book covers the gamut of health issues: (1) above the waist, (2) above the neck, (3) below the waist, (4) everything in between, and (5) thinking outside the pill. It just made me a little more aware about what I'm taking, and how those medications are affecting my body. If you're one of those people who doesn't like taking medications then The 24-Hour Pharmacist would be a good reference book. If you're like me, and will take any medication that a doctor hands to you, this is a good reference book to let you know what those meds are doing to you and what other choices you have.

Okay. I'm going back to sleep now.

Want a chance for your own free copy? Leave a comment at this post at PBN and be entered to win a copy of the book and a $50 gift certificate to CVS.

Maurice Hilleman might have saved your life

A few  years ago I saw my mom reading a book about the 1918 flu epidemic. I borrowed it from her, and got around to reading through it last summer. The book bogged down a bit in a few parts, but it was still interesting. (Did you know more soldiers died from the flu than were killed in action? Did you know that another flu epidemic is likely to strike in the next 20 years?) Even though I am not by any stretch of the imagination a "science person," I do enjoy a good book about diseases because I find the story of epidemics and plagues fascinating. Germs don't really scare me much, for whatever reason. Deep water, yes. Spiders, ohmygosh yes. Germs? Eh, not so much.

Because of my basic interest and knowledge of flu epidemics and such, I have kept up with news stories about the bird flu and other flu-ish outbreaks. I also have followed the media circus surrounding vaccinations. Just in the last several years, vaccinations have come under fire as a possible cause for autism. First it was the MMR vaccination that caused autism, but it turned out there wasn't sufficient evidence to support this claim. Then it was mercury in vaccinations that caused autism, but that wasn't fact either. Then it was the chickenpox vaccination, but no clear link there either.

If I needed further proof of the positives of vaccinations, I got it in the form of a new book that just came out last week. Parent Bloggers Network sent me a proof copy of Dr. Paul Offit's new book called Vaccinated: One Man's Quest to Defeat the World's Deadliest Diseases, which I just finished only moments ago (I started it several weeks ago and then homework fell from the heavens, so I couldn't get back to reading it until this weekend).

The story is about Maurice Hilleman, a scientist from Montana. Never heard of him? Have you heard of measles, mumps, rubella, chickenpox, hep A, hep B, pneumococcus, meningoccus, and Hib? Hilleman is the guy who created vaccines to all these diseases. Yeah. Impressive.

Before Hilleman's death in April 2005, he told his story to Dr. Offit, resulting in this book that encompasses not only his life and professional career, but also the history of the field in which he was working. The narrative, while occasionally jumping awkwardly between direct quotes and explanatory prose, holds together as an informative and compelling story. It's no quick read, that's for sure, but it is well researched. And while the plot centers around Hilleman, there are lots of side-plots that bring in a considerable amount of the history of vaccinations--stories about Pasteur (rabies vaccine), Salk and Sabin (polio). If you're not really interested like I am in all the backstory and political shadows of vaccines, then the first three-fourths of the book might not catch your attention. But the final few chapters should be mandatory reading for anyone who questions whether or not vaccinations are necessary.

I know that there is a growing population of parents out there who don't want to vaccinate their kids, whether for personal or religious reasons. Even in my own Christian community, not many parents support the idea of giving teenage girls the papillomavirus vaccine, which prevents cervical cancer. And up until I read this book I thought, "Well, whatever. It's their kid." I effectively had no opinion on vaccinations.

This book changed my mind on that.

As I was reading about life in sub-Saharan Africa where most children aren't able to get vaccinated, the thought occurred to me that one of the reasons why I feel safe to take my young children out into society, allowing them to play with other children, is because I assume that those children have been vaccinated against some of the deadlier diseases. Certainly, I know that my kids aren't immune to all contagious diseases out there, but I don't imagine that they will catch measles. I don't worry about polio or diphtheria or mumps or smallpox. I don't worry about these diseases because with immunizations these are preventable diseases. But what about the kids who parents don't believe in immunizations? What about the parents who are willing to put my child's life in jeopardy for their personal beliefs? What about the parents who are essentially counting on every one else to immunize their children so that their own non-immunized kid won't get sick? When personal beliefs end up with very public results, yeah, well, I have opinions about that.

Sure, some kids have compromised immune systems and can't get vaccines. I get that. And I certainly understand the hesitancy to use new vaccines, especially if their pediatricians aren't recommending them. When I took Jules in for her Well Baby check a few weeks ago, I passed on one of the new vaccines (for a disease I hadn't heard of and don't remember) because our doctor said that it had just been rereleased after a decade-long FDA ban because the original version had nasty side-effects. My decision was also helped along because our doctor said he wasn't giving it to his daughter. Maybe this makes me a hypocrite, what with all my "vaccinate your kids" passion, but I guess the immunizations I feel most strongly about using are the ones that have been around for years.

At the end of the day, I'll definitely remember one of the final quotes from the book:

"Despite all of society's negative pressures, vaccination has proven itself beyond the shadow of a doubt to be the most logical way to control infectious diseases in a community.... The success story is undeniable. There is no measles, a little bit of mumps, no rubella, a little bit of hepatitis B in many communities. And the reason is vaccination....  But it's not free. It comes with a price, an imperative. And that is that you have to keep using it."

So, thumbs up on the book. And yay for Maurice Hilleman.

One more paper to go

Even though I finished my Teaching Grammar class last Friday, I still had this week to finish up the final papers. I had to write annotated bibliographies on Steering the Craft and Grammar Alive! (The exclamation point is part of the title; I'm not outraged over having to write annotated bibliographies.) I highly recommend both these titles to English teachers, but I especially recommend Steering the Craft if you are a writer or like to reading about the craft of writing. Ursula K. Le Guin, who lives in Portland, is so engaging and humorous in this book; plus, it's filled with all sorts of lovely examples of great writing from classic texts.

Like this quiet, gentle sentence from Huck Finn:

The first thing to see, looking away over the water, was a kind of dull line – that was the wood on t’other side – you couldn’t make nothing else out; then a pale place in the sky; then more paleness, spreading around; then the river softened up , away off, and warn’t black any more, but gray; you could see little dark spots drifting along, ever so far away – trading scows, and such things; and long black streaks – rafts; sometimes you could hear a sweep screaking; or jumbled-up voices, it was so still, and sounds come so far; and by-and-by you could see a streak on the water which you know by the look of the streak that there’s a snag there in a swift current which breaks on it and makes that streak look that way; and you see the mist curl up off of the water, and the east reddens up, and the river, and you make out a log cabin in the edge of the woods, away on the bank on t’other side of the river, being a woodyard, likely, and piled by them cheats so you can throw a dog through it anywheres; then the nice breeze springs up, and comes fanning you from over there, so cool and fresh, and sweet to smell, on account of the woods and the flowers; but sometimes not that way, because they’ve left dead fish laying around, gars, and such, and they do get pretty rank; and next you’ve go the full day, and everything smiling in the sun, and the song-birds just going it!  --Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huck Finn

It is, as Le Guin writes, one of the greatest sunrises in all of literature. Read it aloud and you'll find that you can't yell it. There's a slow rhythm to it, a gradualness, like the sun coming up. If you skipped over reading the last paragraph to get to this one, I'm telling you in my best bossy teacherly voice, go back and read it. Seriously. It's amazing.

Speaking of sunrises, that's how long I have until my final paper--a case study of my own writing--is due. All this writing about my own writing is making me want to take a vacation from writing. I might have to spend the next two weeks just doing blog memes. That'll clear my head.

Okay. Back to work.

Week 153: Perfectly Good Mother

In honor of Mother's Day, this week's posts are going to center around the theme of Motherhood and my crazy emotional thoughts about that. It all stems from a book I just finished reading (compliments Parent Bloggers Network), and I think I need the week to totally process it.

-----

Before I became a mom, I had one huge advantage over most of the other moms I knew:

I had very low expectations.

I was not of the "I just want to be a mom,"--
"Ever since I was a kid, I've wanted to be a mom,"--
"Motherhood is what I've dreamed of,"--
"Having children will be amazing,"--
crowd.

No sirree. Motherhood didn't seem like fun. at. all. It seemed like a whole lot of work with very little reward. My mom never glossed over the hard times of motherhood, and so for first few years of marriage when people asked when I was going to have children my stock answer was, "Never." It didn't matter that I knew somewhere deep, very deep, in the darkest unswept corner of my heart that I would probably become a mother, someday, eventually. Having kids was one of those things I didn't look forward to.

I hardly expected any benefits to having kids, so when they did come in the form of drooling smiles, big bear hugs, and utterances of "I love you Mommy," it rocked my world. I can see now how I am fiercely in love with my daughters and that becoming a mom has profoundly changed me in a positive way. But I have to admit that all those pre-parenting thoughts saved me from the disappointment and guilt of realizing that at 2 in the morning, I have uttered the words, "I hate this." Heck, I have uttered that phrase at 2 in the afternoon. Sometimes I do, in fact, hate the chores of parenting. I don't feel terrible about not loving motherhood all the time. It's the hardest job I'll ever do. There is no upside to not getting enough sleep and the ensuing insanity that results from that. The best I can do is to have a sense of humor about it, which I am successful at maybe half of the time.

I also thought that those pre-parenting thoughts would put me squarely in the camp of Realistic Expectations. I wouldn't expect perfection. I wouldn't dream of utopia. I wouldn't try to control the uncontrollable. I would, in essence, change the very DNA of my character. Easy.

And, I thought, I wouldn't have a real need to read a book called Even June Cleaver Would Forget the Juice Box, by Dr. Ann Dunnewold. Extreme parenting? Child-centered parenting? Cat fights with other moms? No thank you. That is not me. The book's tagline "Cut Yourself Some Slack (and still raise great kids) in the Age of Extreme Parenting" just didn't seem to fit me. Except that OF COURSE it did fit me. Cut myself some slack? Hello! Maybe just every-once-in-awhile-or-every-minute-of-the-day. I am not good in the cutting slack department.

Anyway, as I started reading through the book I realized that while I may have a mailbox in the camp of Realistic Expectations, I don't live there full time. I'm not sure if I ever even stay the night there. Really, I'm just there during the day with my kids. It's easy for me to say, "We don't have the money," and feel perfectly okay that Sydney sleeps in her bedroom of hand-me-down furniture, and won't attend pre-school, or be in dance class, or wear designer jeans. I don't expect perfection of my kids, and don't expect Sydney to be the next child prodigy. She'll be a very regular kid, and I'm okay with that.

Yet...That dreadful yet...at night, when I starting thinking through everything, I leave Realistic Expectations, and go to the land of Perfect Mommies. I read through other blogs and my magazines and think, "That's what I should to do." I should work on the backyard, the organized phone consul, the beautiful photos. I should make soup from scratch, send off those homemade birthday party invitations, make cookies for the next church event. I should sew aprons, and dolls, and make flower bouquets. I should be content, be happy, be outgoing, send encouragement cards to all my friends.

The "shoulds" go on forever. Some of them probably legitimate ones at that. But the "shoulds" kill me. For as much as I think I don't compete with other moms, I am sad to confess that I do sometimes. Especially in the Martha Mom department. Even just this weekend, for a church event for families of young children, I made blueberry/cranberry cobbler from scratch. Part of it was because I had a real craving for shiny-top blueberry cobbler; part of it was because I wanted to appear impressive, if just for one sugary second. I'm kidding myself if I think I don't expect perfection at least some of the time.

For as much as I didn't think Dunnewold's book would apply to my life, it does.

The perfectly good mother is not a model of perfectly perfect. Perfect is impossible. Perfect implies A++, 110 percent of the time. "Perfectly good" as an adjective keeps the standards high, but achievable. It means clearly good, without qualification. Perfectly good is a solid A- or B+. Compare that to "good enough," or even "slacker." Sounds like barely passing to me. Perfectly good is admirable, but you don't have to "kill" yourself, and it by no means creeps into the realm of failure. (page 20)

The main theme of the book is about getting moms to accept the idea of being a perfectly good mom and stop competing with each other. I appreciated the amount of research Dunnewold put into the book, with excerpts from dozens of parenting essays and books. She includes perfectly good sayings that help keep moms focused on real thinking. She isn't just writing to young families either. It's for all parents who have kids under the age of 25. She also includes a helpful chapter on perfectly good dads.

When I finished the book last night, I cried. Not just because I'm hyper stressed out (although I am) but because even after all that reading I know it'll be so difficult for me to give up my parenting insecurities. Some areas are easy. Overscheduling? No problem. Some areas are harder. Overprotecting? Overperfecting (myself, not my child)? Most definitely. We need to look hard at the overprotecting, overperfecting, overproducing, overscheduling lifestyle and see what really works for us and our families.  It's about examining what is really necessary. It's about saying, "Enough for now."

I'm not saying the book has the answer to all the plagues of motherhood, but it convicted me in areas I didn't even think I had issues with. Serious conviction. Considering the fact that I didn't think the book would apply to me at all, I'd say that's a big leap. I think I'll try to capture some of my other reactions this week, and hopefully by the time Mother's Day rolls around I'll be saying Happy Perfectly Good Mother's Day.

Thanks to Parent Bloggers Network for providing me with my copy of the book.

Not the greatest bedtime story

Today is a sad day in Jackson County, Oregon.

Today the public libraries closed.

I heard the story on NPR yesterday, and it actually made me cry. The idea of not having a public library...I just can't imagine it. Especially in Jackson County, home of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, one of the most amazing cultural events in the world. Technically there's one library left since Southern Oregon University's library is remaining open, and it's evidently quite beautiful. But the federal funding that helped Jackson County keep its public libraries open is tied up in the Iraq spending bill that President Bush is planning to veto, and so there's no money left to keep open the 15 branches. Who knows when they'll reopen. Maybe May. Maybe later.

Even though university libraries are important, they lack one critical area: the children's section. We are lucky to have quite a nice children's section at our library. There's a play area, and puzzles, and pillows, and fish, and all sorts of nice librarians who smile and raise their eyebrows a lot when they talk to you. But, oh! the best thing about our library is the storytime. We love it.

Every Tuesday night we get the girls' in their pajamas and drive over to the library for Family Bedtime Storytime. For thirty minutes we listen to all sorts of wonderful stories and sing exciting songs. Sydney can now sing all the way through the opening song, "Shake My Sillies Out," and even has gotten bold enough to "wiggle her waggles away" in front of all the other kids. For the most part, Jason and I sit and relax while listening to the stories, drinking our Dutch Brother coffees (what a treat! I get a coffee every Tuesday!), and clap and laugh along with the kids.

Last week we heard about bunnies and pigs and chickens. We heard Little Bunny Foo Foo and Cornelius P. Mud, Are You Ready For Bed?, both entertaining. The big hit of the night, however, was The Most Wonderful Egg in the World, which the librarian told with chicken props. I have discovered even more wonderful stories through story time, like our new favorite Llama Llama Red Pajama. The librarian storyteller is wonderful. I love how she interjects her own version into the story a little bit so that the kids understand the pictures better. I love how she opens her eyes wide at the exciting parts. I love how she asks the kids questions as they read through it. And I love that Sydney feels comfortable enough around her to be able to go up and get the hand stamp that all the kids get at the end of story time.

Even though we read a lot to Sydney (she gets at least 30 minutes every night with Jason before bed, and more than twice that from me throughout the day), I think it's important that she gets to go to the library for storytime. The most important thing you can do for your child's developing mind is to read to them, and second to that is having other people read to them. As Strickland Gillilan wrote in "The Reading Mother,"

You may have tangible wealth untold:
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be --
I had a mother who read to me.

I grew up with my dad reading us stories, and my mom taking us to the library. I loved reading, and I loved the library. When I went on to teach I was lucky enough to work at a school who had an amazing librarian. So amazing that when she left I only ended up staying at that school one more year. English teachers need good librarians or their jobs become substantially more difficult.

I'm thankful that Sydney gets to go to the library every Tuesday and listen to stories and check out books and say hi to the fishies (which she does faithfully every week). I wish all kids -- everywhere -- were as lucky as she is. But to have the libraries in my own state close down? It's just so sad it makes me want to drive the four hours down there and read to those kids myself.

Somebody needs to.

Book Marked

I saw a book meme over at Jen's Page, and thought it looked like fun. However, before I start in on it, let me invite you to participate in an online book club over at Reading the Classics. We're reading Anna Karenina--discussion on Books 1 & 2 is March 21st.

Hardback or trade paperback or mass market paperback?

Trade paperback. I used to prefer hardback, but I've found that they are too bulky in my hands. I like a cover with a bit of flex to it. If I could trade in all my hardbacks for trade paperbacks I would.

Amazon or brick and mortar?

For as much as I love going in bookstores, I do most of my book shopping through Amazon. Their low prices have sucked me in. If I lived closer to Powell's, I'd go there instead of Amazon. But by the time I decide I want a book and make my way up to Portland to get it, I would have received it from Amazon by then.

Barnes & Noble or Borders?

For some reason I like B&N best, but all we have is a Borders in town. They're fine, but I hardly ever buy anything there.

Bookmark or dogear?

Usually dogear, but if I'm using a bookmark it's a clever little one that I got from Jes a couple years ago.

Alphabetize by author or alphabetize by title or random?

None of the above. Our books are sorted by genre, just like our music, and there's no alphabetizing at all. All our fiction (and some non-fiction) is in the living room (sorted by sub-categories, like "classics," and "irish literature," unless it's a mass-market paperback in which case it's on the top shelf). Children's lit is in Sydney's room, parenting books in Jules' room, poetry and religious literature in our room, and educational and plenty of non-fiction in our book loft (and until we build a ladder to get up there, it's only accessible by climbing up the shelves of our linen closet).

Keep, throw away or sell?

Mostly keep, but sell often enough. Never throw away. I'd give it to the Goodwill.

Keep dustjacket or toss it?

Keep.

Read with dustjacket or remove it?

Remove it. And all of the dustjackets for Sydney's books have been tucked away so that she doesn't rip them up. If books were as pretty without their dustjackets, I'd toss them. But usually the cover underneath is blah.

Novel or short story?

Novel, although I do like well-written non-fiction essays.

Short story collection (short stories by the same author) or anthology (short stories by a different author)?

I like both, but I have more anthologies than collections.

Harry Potter or Lemony Snicket?

Pshaw. Harry Potter of course. I've read several of the books from A Series of Unfortunate Events, and while it's clever enough, it's not the same caliber as Harry Potter.

Stop reading when tired or at chapter breaks?

How about, stop reading when child calls you, or laundry beckons you, or phone rings for you? That's my answer. The other answer: I stop when I'm tired.

"It was a dark and stormy night" or "Once upon a time"?

I'm a "once upon a time" kind of girl. Happy endings for me please. Although I will say I loved Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier, and that's very dark and stormy.

Buy or Borrow?

Usually buy, although I've borrowed plenty from my Inkling friend. Truthfully however, almost all of the last two dozen books I've added to my collections have been gifts.

New or used?

I have no problem buying used if I'm at a bookstore.

Buying choice: book reviews, recommendation or browse?

Both reviews and recommendations. Rarely browse (unless it's in the classics section).

Tidy ending or cliffhanger?

Tidy ending.

Morning reading, afternoon reading or nighttime reading?

I'll echo what Jen said, and say "whenever I can get it." That tends to be in the afternoon, while the girls are napping.

Standalone or series?

Either.

Favorite series?

Anne of Green Gables, hands down. I like the Harry Potter series, but only because it's entertaining. Anne of Green Gables brings me joy and makes me want to be a better person. That kind of book is always better, in my opinion. I must add, however, that the series that I got the biggest kick out of was the Thursday Next series. Superb.

Favorite books read last year?

The Thirteenth Tale was amazing. Loved it. Also really enjoyed Flu: The Story of the Great Influenza Pandemic of 1918 and Team of Rivals (about Abraham Lincoln).

Favorite books of all time?

Hmmm. I suppose there are lots. I guess I would say the Anne of Green Gables series, Pride and Prejudice, and Where the Red Fern Grows.

Llama llama red pajama, why is sleep so hard for Mama?

It's so satisfying to read a book that makes your life better, isn't it?

During the first two years of Sydney's life I had very few good nights of sleep. More days than not I was exhausted, low on energy, and fighting an uphill battle to not get depressed. But we got through it, and now she sleeps like a champ.

Just in time, of course, for another little person to start stealing my sleep. Oh...yay.

We all know what a bad night's sleep looks like. But if you're a parent, you really know what disordered sleep can do for you. It kills you. Night by miserable night. After that first year of parenthood, you have lost more than 200 hours of sleep. Good thing those little kiddos are worth it, although I confess to sobbing more than once during the night-time misadventures: no. more. kids.

I will say that Julianne is a better sleeper than Sydney was (praise God for that), but I'm still not getting the sleep that I wish I was getting. I've read half a dozen books on getting my kids to sleep better, but never read one on getting me to sleep better. So, given the opportunity to read such a book you bet I was all over that like...like some clever metaphor that I can't think of because I've learned that my brain is functioning at a less than optimum performance due to sleep loss.

The answer to the problems of my life? The Bible. The answer to the other problems of my life? Good Night: The Sleep Doctor's 4-Week Program to Better Sleep and Better Health. I knew before starting the book that I needed more sleep. Duh. If the author's prescription was going to be "get more sleep and your life will be better" I was going to be annoyed that this Dr. Breus fellow was living in the world of perfect situations (no kids, no stress job, no tossing and turning husband).

Oh, Dr. Breus, you didn't let me down. He writes on page 25:

"Given my experience I'm inclined to admit that women, as a gender, appear to bear numerous stresses due to the multi-faceted nature of their roles in today's society. Mom. Wife. Employee. Chauffeur. Cook. Cleaner. Business Owner. Family manager. Caretaker, etc. When I sit and talk with my female patients...we discuss everything from pregnancy to menopause, to career, to marriage, and that word "balance," and I know I've got it much easier than many of them."

Okay. He gets it. I mean all this stuff is a no-brainer, but still. He gets it. Sometimes sleep becomes the last thing on the to do list, and we give it up to get other stuff done, like laundry and bill paying and blogging. The real kicker though is that Dr. Breus says (my paraphrase), I get that. And here's why you need better sleep if you're going to be able to accomplish all that.

Dr. Breus, a medically certified sleep specialist, writes about all the stuff that can take our sleep away, and then basically says, You owe it to yourself, your family, your health, and your overall well-being to sleep better. It's one of the most important things you can do. I know I didn't need permission to request more sleep, but it was good to read about how critical it is to my life. Maybe, just maybe, I need to go to bed earlier. Maybe...*sigh*... I shouldn't give up sleep hours to blog.

Essentially, Dr. Breus develops the answer to the question, "What does a good night's sleep look like and how can I get it?" Even though he has several pages devoted to the science of sleeping, the book is most helpful in actual tips for helping create an environment and lifestyle that are suited for better sleeping. It is possible to wake up in the morning and not feel like your eyes are full of sand.

The book is extremely practical all the way from providing quizzes that assess what your sleep problems might be, to how to make the most of naps, to how sleep helps you lose weight, to how to get your bedroom to be a place where you can sleep better. (I was one step ahead of him on this one because I had already implemented some of his suggestions: paint the room calm colors, get the stressful paper stuff out of the room, put up pictures that calm you, use room-darkening drapes. Today on my to-do list: get night lights, and buy a new pillow for Jason.)

I came away from the book realizing that because my 'during the night sleep' isn't going to be perfect, then I need to make going to bed earlier a priority. If that means taping my tv shows, if that means that I leave a blog unposted and an email unanswered and a paper ungraded, then that's the way it goes. My mental and physical health is dependent upon more--and better--sleep.

HERE'S THE PART WHERE YOU NEED TO STOP SKIM READING: I truly believe this book has something important to say about the necessity of sleep. Even if you think you're a good sleeper, I bet there's something in this book that can make your sleeping even better. It includes a four-week plan on how to get better sleep, and I'll let you know how things are going when I've finished the other three weeks.

In a nutshell: this book is good. It's super helpful. It's completely changed the way I view sleep. Sleep isn't a luxury item. I need it to stay positive. I need it to lose weight. I need it to be a good parent. I need it to be a good wife. I need it to be an effective person in society who can make a difference.

-----

So that's my review of the book. I was lucky enough to get my copy free from Parent Bloggers Network, but it's definitely worth the almost $16 you can get it for on Amazon. Even if you just go to the library or bookstore and spend an hour glancing through it you'll discover things you didn't know about sleeping. Or you could also go to his blog, or his articles on Web MD, or his web site which has a lot of the information that's found in the book. (Sidenote: the only thing that seemed a bit overdone was how often he referred to his web site, although I suppose this would be helpful to those who are just glancing at small sections of the book. I did get a nice chuckle, however, when I saw on page 195 that he misspelled the url his web site.)

And just, fyi, I'm not giving this book a good review because I got it free and because I'm affiliated with PBN. I am completely allowed to give it a bad review, which you know I would because there are too many good books out there for you to waste your time on dumb ones. I firmly believe this. That said, this is a really helpful book. Five twinkling stars from me.

Week 127: Bored with Books

We had one of those great November storms blow in last night. The kind where the window panes rattle against the howling wind, the rain drops loudly on the roof, the leaves whirl against the doors. I love the sounds and smells of a good storm, so in the middle of the night (in one of my moments of non-sleep) I opened the window next to our bed just so I could I fully appreciate the storm. And since Jason moved Sydney's playhouse so it sits right outside our window, I even got the added bonus of listening to the rain falling on the plastic tarp that covers it. I don't know what it is, but I love the sound of rain falling on plastic tarps. Plunk plunk plunk. Ah, perfect sounds.

It's the kind of day that's perfect for curling up and reading a book, and when Sydney went down for a nap (very much against her will and after many many minutes of weeping, "I don't want to take a nap!") I could have picked up a book and read.

But I didn't.

I thought about it, but the truth is I have been in something of a reading slump the last few months. I pick up books and then get bored. I've tried a variety of genres, but nothing has been appealing. I have shelves and shelves of books that are boring me to tears.

The one recent exception is a book I just bought. When I read a review in our local newspaper for The Thirteenth Tale it totally captured my attention, so I went to the bookstore, traded in $21 worth of books and paid the remaining $5. The book was absolutely the best thing I've read all year, and I'd like to do a proper review on it, but my mind is too scattered right now to get my thoughts in order. At any rate, I got the book last Saturday and had it finished by Tuesday. For me, it was a perfect read.

I thought finishing off a book would inspire me to get through another one, but even though I tried to get through Angels & Insects, it was too boring. I wanted to like it. But, alas, looking out the window at the rain was more compelling than anything the pages held.

Maybe it's just a phase. I hope so anyway because I like reading, and don't find it particular nifty that I have turned into a non-reader. At least today I had the rain to amuse me, but what about when it stops raining?

So, any suggestions on short, easy, entertaining, geared-for-adults, non-depressing books? Not too reflective. Not too complicated. I tend to like books set in England, but I'm open to American settings. Once Baby arrives then my reading days will be limited again, so I'm really trying to get in at least one more good book in the next six weeks. If it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen. But I'd at least like to make some effort.

Book Joy

I have to say, you all leave the most wonderful comments. Thanks for allowing me to be honest about my worries and idiosyncrasies.

*****

It's no secret that we're crazy about books over here. But perhaps what is not as well known is how crazy we are about children's books. I know I have my little sidebar of books that Sydney and I are currently turning pages in, but I thought I'd show off some of the ones we're especially enjoying these days.

The Princess and the Pea, by Lauren Child & Polly Borland

When Yvonne posted about this book for her March Book Club, I quickly added it to my Amazon Wish List. My mom, ever the observant one (and armed with her rewards from her Amazon Visa), got this book for Sydney. It is so enchanting, with tiny miniature sets for all the pictures, and wonderfully witty writing to tell the story. I'm in love with this book, and I know Sydney will be too.

What Makes a Rainbow? by Betty Ann Schwartz & Dona Turner

Years ago I got this book for my friend's daughter. Later on, when the little girl was old enough to say so, she said, "The rainbow book is my favorite book." That was enough reason for me to get it for Sydney. The magical part about this book is that a ribbon opens up with each page. Sydney loves to watch the rainbow ribbons add up: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple. Amanda told me that she ordered this book, and I hope she loves it as much as we do!

Stupid Sock Creatures, by John Murphy

Technically, this isn't a kids' book, but it's new to my shelf so I had to show it off. My mom got me Stupid Sock Creatures as an early Mother's Day present. She even provided half a dozen socks to go along with it. I first spied this book when my SIL Sarah got it for Christmas from my brother. She hosted a sock-monster party, and has even started a blog showcasing all her sockie creations. She's really fab at it, so if you have a special sock that needs to be fashioned into something a bit more cuddly, she can do it. If the sock craze catches on here, I think I know what all our extended family will be getting for Christmas (and birthdays, and baby showers...).

Hopefully today we'll have more of this amazing sunshiney weather that we've had the past few days...you'll find us on the deck reading!

Online

I'm up to my eyeballs in homework for my Internet for Educators class. Too much computer time rots my brain, kills my back, and I think my hips are starting to widen from my buns smashed to this chair. Perilous. I'm currently working on a WebQuest. Had to go here to even know what it is. I'm still trying to decide if I should just use an old assignment I used to teach (about the Tudor period) and will never teach again or make up a new one that I might, in some theory, use in the future (about Irish literature, of course). The decision would be easier if I wasn't such a stickler for usefulness.

The whole concept of using the Internet as a teaching tool is, I think, a bit over-rated. Especially since a lot of students don't know how to determine if a site is credible (or for that matter even know how to search for information. Jason had students search for information by typing in their search topic in the address bar, and then adding .com after it, as in "countriesinolympics.com"). I bet a lot of kids think that Wikipedia is as good as a real encyclopedia. Sure, the wikipedia experiment is working, but I wouldn't call it a pillar of accuracy.

I could go on, but that WebQuest is calling my name.

We're going to Sunriver this weekend for a little vacation with some friends, so no posting until next week.

Have a nice President's Day weekend. If you're in the Presidential spirit, you should read A Team of Rivals about President Lincoln. He's my favorite president.

Top o' the Mornin' to ya

(and that's Top o' the Muffin to you Seinfeld fans)

May those who love us love us.
And those that don't love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if He doesn't turn their hearts,
May He turn their ankles,
So we'll know them by their limping. --Irish proverb

We won't be having a typical Irish celebration around here, but I do feel particularly lucky that I got the paper done for my Modern Irish Lit class on time. (HUGE thanks to Sarah who came down on Tuesday to watch Sydney while I typed away.) Hoping my mad writing skills earn me an A.

If you're looking for some Irish lit to get you in the proper St. Patrick's Day mood, here's a few suggestions:

• The Anchor Book of New Irish Writing
• Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha, by Roddy Doyle
• The Inland Ice, by Eilis Ni Dhuibhne
• The Deposition of Father McGreevy, by Brian O'Doherty
• The Blackwater Lightship, by Colm Toibin
• Reading in the Dark, by Seamus Deane
• Grace Notes, by Bernard Maclaverty

Have a wonderfully lucky day!

Inspiration

Not too often does literary theory inspire me. Don't get me wrong, I love it. I do. It's the stuff that keep me awake at night tossing and turning. But it doesn't exact move passions in the soul.

'The attention which post-colonial theory pays to factors which disrupt, undermind and speak back to monolithic cultural structures surely makes this possible, not only in terms of gender and class, but in the competing ways in which notions of ethnicity and authenticity are constructed.'

Certainly I like Colin Graham's 1995 Irish Studies Review article as much as the next theory nerd, but it doesn't, you know, set my heart a flutter.

On the other hand...

Every once in awhile I catch something that sticks with me. That something that makes me nod my head, moves me to write stars and exclamation points in the margin, inspires me to use the pink highlighter instead of the regular yellow one.

'I don't compare myself to the dead. I hardly compare myself to the living. I would hope my writing is my own.'
--Anne Enright

I like that. A lot.

Freezing Over

Yes, we've frozen over. But I am grateful that we don't have as much ice as we had last year (which is when this picture was taken). Last year we were snowed in and stuck in our house for three days. That was neat for the first day, but then the power went out and all the fun quickly went away. Fortunately, this storm looks like it has passed; it's warmed up to a balmy 34, so the ice is quickly fading. We're lucky...Portland is still iced over.

My week has been much busier than I expected. Wednesday I spent the day finishing the reading assignment for my class: Reading in the Dark. It is such a good book. The writing is superb. Take this passage, for instance:

When we came into the kitchen, my mother looked up and the whole history of his family and her family and ourselves passed over her face in one intuitive waltz of welcome and then of pain.

Isn't that beautiful? Highly recommend reading it.

Thursday was spent running errands (not so exciting) and spending time with two of my former students-now friends (very exciting). I made Thai chicken with peanut sauce, and even though I was a bit skeptical about the recipe, I must say it turned out quite nicely. I don't get to cook much with peanuts since Jason is a member of the Peanut Allergy Club (no, it's not a real club). He wasn't around during dinner (basketball practice), but he was still a bit disgruntled that he couldn't eat leftovers. So he fixed himself a quesadilla. Too bad.

Had quite the grand time with my friends. Good food, good laughs...played the game of Life (I won with 2 million dollars!) and watched Napoleon Dynamite for the benefit of Devon, for she hadn't seen it before. I am always refreshed after an evening with friends, aren't you?

And then Friday I visited my parents, who were missing Sydney terribly since they hadn't seen her in two whole weeks. No matter about me, mind you, I'm just the transportation.

That about sums up where I've been, and so hopefully you'll find those acceptable excuses for my blogging absence. But, here, I'll teach you a new Irish phrase: Go raibh mile maith agat (pronounced: Gurrah MEEL-ah MAH hahgut). It means "One thousand thanks to you!" (A phrase which I'm certain to remember because when the professor wrote it on the board he wrote "1000 thanks to you" and due to some penmanship issues I was thinking 'What the heck does 'looo thanks to you' mean?' Ah, yes, still a bit on the sleep deprived state, can you tell?)