No More Pop-Ups

Jack developed a bad habit in the last few weeks of getting up eighty gazillion times during the night. We called them "pop-ups." He'd pop up out of bed, we'd drag him emotionlessly back to bed, Supernanny-style, and he'd stay there for about four seconds, then pop-up again.

Ugh.

I could tell he was tired, and I knew that if he'd just stay in his room, he'd go to sleep. And I'd be able to relax and watch Survivor.

Finally, Steve and I concocted a plan to keep him in his room. We'd give him his big bucket of Star Wars action figures, point out the books in his room, and tell him to just stay there. It worked. No more pop-ups, and although we'd find books and action figures in his bed, he would go to sleep at a fairly reasonable time.

Last night, we heard him moving around upstairs. Then, we heard his door open. But no pop-up. What was that little scamp up to?

Steve went upstairs and discovered Jack sitting in the hallway, reading one of his picture books. Jack explained that he wanted to read, but, "It was dark in my eyes," so he left his room. Steve escorted him back to his room.

On one hand, my feeling about that was, "Go the hell to sleep, Jackson. It's 9:30." On the other hand, I have many memories of reading in bed well past when I was supposed to go to sleep. I'd sneak a flashlight under my pillow, or even just read by the tiny crack of light under my bedroom door.

But you know what? I didn't do that when I was just two years old. My boy is obviously a genius.

Twelve Sharp

I like the occasional Quarter Pounder from McDonald's. I know they're not good for me, and I know I could get a better burger somewhere else. But they're cheap and easy, and sometimes they really hit the spot. But there is the rare occasion in which you get an exceptionally good Quarter Pounder. It was cooked just recently, so it's perfectly hot and the cheese is melted just right. The condiments are distributed evenly across the burger, and the bun is soft and fluffy. It's still junk food, but it's awfully damned good junk food.

Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum books are like that really good Quarter Pounder. And sometimes, on a sunny day, they really hit the spot.

The one I read most recently was Twelve Sharp. The plot is fun, since it includes plenty of Ranger hotness and a great subplot about Lula forming a punk bad with Sally Sweet and Granny Mazar. It was a fast, funny read, and I totally enjoyed it.

I Love You, Beth Cooper

In debate team nerd Denis Cooverman's valedictorian speech, he makes a bold declaration of love to head cheerleader Beth Cooper. As you might imagine, this does not result in the two of them riding off into the sunset together. For one thing, Beth has no idea who Denis is. For another, Beth's very big and very scary boyfriend Kevin is none too impressed by Denis's making a move on his girl.

The book, by Larry Doyle, begins each chapter with a quote from a teen movie. John Hughes movies are prominently featured, of course, as are Rushmore, Heathers, and American Pie. That's appropriate, because this book reads just like a really well done teen movie.

Yes, at times it's a little too cute and knowing for its own good (references to "diet Cherry Vanilla Lime-Kiwi Coke," for example), but it's a quick, fun, funny read.

The Non-Runner's Marathon Trainer

Let's get one thing straight right away: I am not a "non-runner." I have been running since I was about nine years old. I earned varsity letters in cross country and track all four years of high school. In fact, at the peak of my training, I was running an average of ten miles. I've run countless road races, and I know how to pace myself, stretch, do interval workouts, use proper running form, and all of that good stuff. I also know about injuries -- which ones I can run through (shin splints, sore muscles, the tail end of a pulled muscle) and which ones I can't (two stress fractrues). I also have really come to realize since Jack was born how important running is to my mental health.

Despite that, I found this book -- The Non-Runner's Marathon Trainer -- to be both helpful and inspiring. The book was inspired by a course taught at the University of Northern Iowa simply called Marathon. Class members train for and run a marathon together, and 199/200 of the participants have met their goal and finished the race. That is pretty darned impressive. The authors believe that the secret to their success is not just the physical training, but also the mental training.

Each chapter represents a week of the training program and is divided into three sections -- the physical part of training, the mental part of training, and anecdotes from participants in the class.

The physical stuff is pretty basic, and I'm not following the training program set forth in the book. I'm using Hal Hidgon's program, which is pretty much the same. But the mental aspect was very interesting. The book is full of ways to maintain a positive outlook, so that you have the confidence that you can haul yourself through 26.2 miles, to build mental toughness, to achieve flow (a sort of zen state where it's just you and your feet), and to concentrate so you can focus on the task at hand. The anecdotes from other runners were also interesting. I liked reading in plain language what a first time marathoner's experience was like.

I got this book from the library, and I'll probably check it out and re-read parts of it before the race.

The one comment in the book really rang true for me. If you're going to run a marathon, you need to make time for training. You can make time for training if you make yourself a priority as much as everything else in your life. It's easy for me to take care of other people, but it's more of a challenge for me to make time to take care of myself. Through running, I am able to take time every day that is 100% for me.

Stuff I Love

It's Friday afternoon, and I'm in a good mood. But at the same time, not in the mood to write something really long and substantial. So, I think now is a good time to write a quick list of Stuff I Love right now.

1. The way Jack pronounces the word "orange." It comes out more like "orgish," and it's a word that comes up pretty often. Roary, after all, is orgish, so he loves all things that color.

2. Neutrogena hair products. I have no idea why, but I was recently afflicted with some crankling static hair. Isn't that supposed to happen in the winter? Well, I looked on my Internet Machine to see what I could do to fix it, and got the recommendation to switch to a clarifying shampoo and a mega-conditioning conditioner. Bought Neutrogena, and boom - problem solved. It smells good and clean, too.

3. The Nike + for in iPod. I am about to crank up the running in order to train for a marathon, so i finally got around to hooking up the Nike + that my brother gave me for Christmas. Yes, the Christmas that takes place in December. Anyway, it's the coolest toy ever, and allows me to track my pace, miles, time spent running, and uploads all of it to the nifty Nike website. I can also hold down the center button to listen to a "Power Song" when I need an extra boost. Mine right now is "All These Things That I've Done" by The Killers, and I don't anticipate getting sick of it any time soon.

4. The Target here has a Starbucks in it. How hot is that?

5. Jack's "mommy" song. Every once in a while, out of nowhere, Jack sings the word "Mommy" over and over again to the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." It is so adorable, almost as adorable as the word "orgish."

6. Any kids' books by Mo Willems. They have great typography, funny but simple illustrations, and best of all, are written in such a way that it's easy to read them out loud and have them be funny. I don't get tired of reading them over and over again, which is of course a very good thing.

7. The proliferation of small, independently owned coffee shops in the area. Sure, Target with Starbucks in it is pretty much heaven on earth, but I love being able to support local businesses. There is a place I like to go to on my way to work. Along with my coffee, they give me a napkin and a mint so I can enjoy my coffee like a gentleman. Isn't that lovely?

8. The unexpected response I got to my celebrity gossip post. Apparently several of you are just as intrigued by it as I am. I'll have to post more musings as I have them.

The Screwtape Letters

I read The Screwtape Letters recently for book club. Like many books I've read for various clubs, it's not one I would have chosen. However, in this case, I was not pleasantly surprised by enjoying it.

The concept is really cool. The book is made up of a series of letters that Screwtape, a senior demon, has written to his nephew Wormwood. Wormwood is trying to tempt his "patient," an Everyman, to their side in the battle of good and evil. Sounds fun, right?

Well, it isn't.

Even though the book was short (about 100 pages), I found myself skimming to get through it because it was so verbose. It was incredibly preachy, and it was very clear that CS Lewis was trying to push a Christian agenda in the book. At the same time, it was really boring. I won't be reading this one again.

The Namesake

I'm a bit behind on posting about books, so I might have missed a few that I read. Oh, well. My most recent book is The Namesake, which I picked up because my mom had a copy of it and I was looking for something to read.

For the most part, it was excellent.

The Namesake is Gogol Ganguli. His parents are Indian immigrants to the United States. Gogol was supposed to be a pet name, chosen because of a connection his father had to the Russian writer Gogol. But for various reasons, Gogol's name stuck. It's appropriate because the name mirrors the difficulty Gogol has in finding his place in the world. It's not Indian, but it's not American either, and neither is Gogol.

Gogol struggles for his entire life to find his place in the world. He finds his parents awkward and embarassing at times and is reluctant to leave his friends for extended trips to Calcutta. But in India, he is so moved by the Taj Mahal that he ends up being an architect. He falls in love with a very waspy girl and winds up living with her and her parents in what appears to be a true life Woody Allen movie. He's happy with her, but still feels this concept of "other"-ness. And when his father dies, he realizes that his ties to his own family were stronger than he'd realized.

For a while, it looks like Gogol has managed to find his place in the world, when he marries an Indian girl. But their relationship is doomed by the fact that neither of them have quite accepted who they are yet.

As I was coming to the end of the book, I kept hoping that Gogol would somehow find his place in the world. That somehow, things would be resolved. It never happened, and in retrospect, that seemed appropriate to me.

The Memory Keeper's Daughter

If you're planning on reading this book and don't want key plot points revealed, don't read this. I am going to start spoiling all over the place. You have been warned!

Okay, here's the story. It's 1964, and during a wintery night, accompanied only by a nurse named Caroline, David Henry delivers his twin children. The first is a boy named Paul, born strong and healthy. The second, an unexpected surprise, is a daughter named Phoebe. David needs look at Phoebe only once to see that she has Down Syndrome. Since it's 1964, David's wife, Norah, is not awake for either birth and doesn't know what's happening. David asks nurse Caroline to take Phoebe away to an institution. He tells Norah that their second child was stillborn. David's own sister was born with a heart defect, so he knows the heartbreak that can be caused by the slow death of a beloved child and believes that he is saving Norah from all of that.

This decision, of course, sets a huge chain of events in motion. Caroline takes Phoebe to the institution, but cannot leave her there. She has felt like she has been waiting for her life to start, and in that night, it does. She takes Phoebe away and raises her as her daughter. Norah is distraught at the loss of her daughter. The joy of having a new baby doesn't diminish that pain. She is confused by David's seeming unwillingness to mourn Phoebe. His secret drives a wall between them. Norah throws herself into her career (and a string of affairs), while David develops a passion for photography, photographing nature and parts of the body in harmony.

David believed he made his decision because it was best for everyone, but truly he did it because he thought it was best for him. He didn't want to repeat the tragedy of his sister's death. But the people around him were stronger than he realized. Caroline was a wonderful, patient, and loving mother to Phoebe. She fought for Phoebe to have the right to attend public school and to make her as independent as she could be. Phoebe wasn't the kind of person who could just be locked up in an institution; she was stronger than that, and so was Caroline. Norah's tenacity and success in her workplace was fueled, in part, by a feeling of emptyness. That void certainly could have been filled by the demands of caring for Phoebe. Paul felt a distance from his father, sensed the secrets between them, and was never as close to David as he should have been. David thought he was protecting those he loved, but he was really only protecting himself. In so doing, he utterly failed.

In the end, David dies unexpectedly, before he can share his secret with anybody. Caroline finds Norah and tells her what happened. As the book ends, Norah and Paul are navigating what it will mean to have Phoebe in their lives. Both of them learn a lot from Phoebe in just a short time. Norah learns that Phoebe doesn't need to be rescued and is happy with her life as it is. Paul is fascinated by Phoebe's approach to life. Phoebe lives in a world in which strange and unexpected things, like meeting your birth mother and twin, are the kinds of things that happen every day. She accepts them with a minimum of angst. Paul, following his sister's example, realizes that he loves her in an uncomplicated way.

The strengths of this book are its very concept and some outstanding characterization. It has two weaknesses. One is that it is a little too long and would benefit from a bit of editing. The other is that I was never clear as to why David told Norah they had a second child at all. She was unconscious during Phoebe's birth, so why tell her about it? Why not spare her all of the heartache? I was distracted by that question for quite a while until I had no choice but to willingly suspend disbelief. Nevertheless, this was a story that will stay with me.

Ultimate Spider-Man, Volume 7

My review of Ultimate Spider-Man, Volume 6 was kind of lukewarm. While there were fun elements of it, I really felt like Brian Michael Bendis shied away from the more emotional aspects of the story.

I'm happy to say that with Volume 7, Bendis shows what he can really do. Now this was a good story. Spidey meets Hobgoblin, and what a mess that is for the poor guy. The guy is scary psycho crazy and dangerous, but he is also Peter's friend Harry Osborn. Peter wants to help him, but can he? And in the next story, there are guest stars gallore in a big gang war with the Kingpin. We see Iron Fist, that boring kung-fu guy, Moon Knight (somewhat less lame than the regular Marvel universe version of him), Elektra, Black Cat, and Hammerhead. We see some cool fights, but we also see Peter grappling with whether or not he should follow Kingpin's wishes and take out Hammerhead. After all, Hammerhead is no doubt a bad guy, but is he really going to do what Kingpin wants?

What makes this book so much stronger than the previous volume is what happens in between all of the action scenes. Mary Jane, it turns out, used to date Harry and never told Peter about it. She manages, yet again, to find herself in peril, in part because she didn't heed Peter's advice to stay away from Harry. Peter decides that he loves her too much to put her at risk, so he breaks up with her. Both of them are utterly heartbroken. Peter starts to question whether it shouldn't be "Spider-Man no more," but rather "Peter Parker no more." If he can't handle having both identities, maybe the super heroic one is the one to keep. Can he truly be close to anybody? And where is he without people he loves like MJ and Aunt May? This story had a lot more heart to it, and that made all the difference.

The Force Is Strong in This One

Once again, Jack is proving that we brought the right kid home from the hospitial. Last week, he was having a tantrum, which seemed to me to be a fine time to watch some TV. Sure enough, the last 15 minutes of The Empire Strikes Back were on HBO. Score! I was home. Jack immediately stopped his tantrum, sat on my lap, and began an endless chorus of "What's that?" He tends to echo whatever I say, so it was awesome to hear his little boy voice saying Bobba Fett, lightsaber, Stormtrooper, Lando, and Artoo.

He was most facinated by Chewbacca, who he calls "Chew Chew Bacca." Every time Chewie was on the screen, Jack got excited and would cry, "Chew Chew Bacca!" We snuggled and watched the movie, and I'd explain things as they happen, like that Darth Vader cut off Luke's hand and that it was a bad boo boo. Jack suggested that Luke needed a band-aid. Lando told Chewbacca to go work on the hyperdrive (darned thing was always breaking on the Falcon). A few minutes later, Jack turned to me and said, "Chew Chew Bacca bye bye. He work." Cub was totally following the story and knew where Chewie was and what he was up to.

Since then, Jack has been checking out Star Wars action figures at Target and looking at the Star Wars picture books that I gave Steve as a present when I was pregnant. Chew Chew Bacca remains his favorite.

Last night, we "read" the picture book of Return of the Jedi. There are a lot of words in the book for a kid his age, so I just gave him the highlights, with lots of sound effects ("beep!" "Yub, yub!") and spent lots of time talking about Chewie and Yoda, who he also loved. Han Solo, by the way, is "Chew Chew Bacca friend" and the Falcon is "Chew Chew Baccca spaceship."

Jack was also fascinated by Jabba. He told Steve this morning all about the book. ("Yoda nigh-nigh," "Chew Chew Bacca help Han. Han Chew Chew Bacca friend") He also told Steve repeatedly that Jabba is "not nice" and claims that, in addition to keeping Han frozen in carbonite, humiliating Leia, and trying to throw everybody to the Sarlac, that Jabba bit his finger.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and I do have some treats for my tiny little cupid. Steve and I have a card for him with a tiger on it, and I'm going to get him a balloon with either Dora or Elmo on it. And best of all, we have a Chew Chew Bacca action figure for him. It's a big one, so it's safe for him to play with. Jack's Uncle Dan gave it to him when he just two months old, and I've had it packed away for him. I told Dan about this, and of course, he was thrilled. Dan said that people might have laughed at him for buying an action figure for an infant, but he knew our boy would need him.

The Big Love

No, not those fun-loving cult members on HBO, but rather a novel by Sarah Dunn. My mom got me this book for Christmas, part of a stack that she got for pennies at a yard sale, and I was casting around looking for something to read and picked this up.

The Big Love is chick lit, good for beach reading, and took me a whopping two days to get through. But there are definitely levels of chick lit. This one is about a million times better than, say, Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons or any of the Shopaholic books, but not quite to the levels of Jennifer Weiner or Marian Keyes.

The story is pretty typical. Alison gets dumped hard by her boyfriend Tom, who goes out to buy mustard for a dinner party, then calls her and says that he's in love with somebody else and never comes back. She even works as a columnist, as all heroines in these books have something to do with writing or publishing. But what makes Alison interesting is her background. She grew up an Evangelical Christian, which means that she certainly does not have a Sex and the City kind of liberation about sex or relationships. Even though she's more or less abandonded her faith, you can't completely shake all of the things she's grown up with, and she's in a state of panic about the prospect of never getting married that is a lot more complex and believably coming from her than from other heroines in books like this. She is also very flawed, one of the most neurotic people you'll see, and you can really understand why Tom went running away from her. She's not a total victim and he's not a complete ass. The result is engaging and at times quite funny. This was Sarah Dunn's first novel, and I look forward to reading more from her.

Ultimate X-Men Volume 6

When I posted my last write-up of a comic, I had responses from not one, but two fabulous readers. Super cool. So, here is another write up of my latest comic reading. I got Ultimate X-Men, Volume 6 in the same gorgeous hardcover format as the latest Spidey I read. It's by Brian K. Vaughn, and he completely rocks. BKV writes some of my favorite books -- Ex Machina and Y: The Last Man. The guy really knows how to tell a story. Per Marvel mandates, he writes in arcs, so as to be trade-friendly, but he also makes sure something happens in each and every issue. His stuff works both in trades and monthly, which is apparently no small feat.

There were some great stories in this arc. There was a story about Charles Xavier, rarely featued in anything other than an advisory role, foiling a bank robbery -- and showing signs of having a bigger agenda than many of his students are aware of. And a story between Rogue and Gambit, a couple that I'm not really in love with, that completely engaged me. But the big story -- one involving both the X-Men and a group of students from a rival school lead by Emma Frost -- totally rocked. I absolutely loved this book, no misgivings at all.

Are You My Mother?

It seems that Jack's discovery of the Secret Hidden Backup Roaries had more of an impact than we initially thought. Luckily, he is not demanding more Roaries. But Roary has suddenly become very interested in mommies and daddies. Roary sees his mommy and daddy all over the place.

Every night when we read Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See, Roary gets very excited when we come to the page with the purple cat, declaring, "Mommy Daddy!" He did the same thing when he saw pictures of both tabby cats and tigers in Jack's animal picture book. And when Steve was home with Jack, Roary told him that Jack's Fisher Price lion was his daddy.

I don't think that Jack is traumatized by the appearance and disappearance of "Ro Daddy." I prefer to think that Jack really loves his mommy and daddy and wants his best buddy to have the same thing.

Ultimate Spider-Man Volume 6

That's right, babies: I read stuff other than novels. Most recently, I read the sixth hardcover volume of Ultimate Spider-Man by Brian Michael Bendis and Mark Bagely.

I absolutely love reading comics in this format. The book is larger than a comic, so the art really pops. The paper is nice, and the quality is great. And since Bendis writes in story arcs, rather than individual issues, this is an appealing way to read his stories.

This book was kind of a mixed bag. The first story was about Carnage, a Spidey villian made up of Peter Parker's spider-altered DNA. The most notable part of this story is that it features the death of Gwen Stacy. Gwen Stacy's death in the normal Marvel Universe was a watershed moment, a kind of end of innocence. The same was the case, I thought, for this story. I really wasn't expecting Gwen to die, at least not like this, and the result was horrifying.

Disappointingly, though, Bendis skipped out on the aftermath of Gwen's death and its affect on Peter Parker. The next issue skips several months in the future, so We never really see how Peter reacts to Gwen's death. What should be a pivotal moment in his life is seriously glossed over.

In fact, the remaining issues in the book are really a lot of fun, focusing on guest appearances from Wolverine, The Ultimates, Dr. Strange, and the Human Torch. They are enjoyable (with a sad misfire of an ending to the otherwise fun Wolverine story), but I really felt like Bendis should have shown us Peter's mourning to a greater extent. He had the meat-- Gwen's death -- and skipped right to the dessert.

Still, this was an enjoyable read. I have the next volume on my bookshelf and will undoubtedly dive into it soon.

Self Help

Self help books have never really been my thing, but here I am, having just finished two of them. The books are The Speed Trap and Slowing Down to the Speed of Life. I didn't go out and buy them myself -- they were a Christmas gift from my boss, which is actually a fine example of how supportive she can be. The books promise ways to help you simplify and slow down a fast-paced and stressful life. I actually found several things in them that I think will ultimately help me.

The books are based on a philosophy called Psychology of Mind, which sounds totally Tom Cruise crazy to me, so I'm going to gloss over that part and focus on their main messages, which are:

• To recognize negativity and stress as just thoughts
• To learn to think not just analytically, but also in "free flowing mode."
• To live in the moment

Let's look at these one by one. Everybody experiences stressful situations and feelings. But how stressful things are and how much they affect you can really depend on your point of view. I am making an effort now if, for example, I'm stuck in traffic, not to focus on how it sucks and I'm going to be late. I accept that there's nothing I can do about it, find some soothing music to listen to, and focus on enjoying that, rather than freaking out about the craziness around me. It really works, new age-y as it sounds. Similarly, I recently had a conflict with someone who was being really unreasonable. At one point in our argument, that person stormed off, refusing to talk to me, and saying, "Don't worry about it. Just whatever." I thought, "You know what? I won't worry about it." The thing that person was upset about had nothing to do with me. I don't want to let someone else's bad mood bring me down, so I decided really and truly to take her sarcastic comment to heart and not worry about it. It was a weight off my shoulders, to be honest. I'm now trying, when I start to experience stress (or what the books call "a low mood" to change the course of my thinking and help myself get out of it. I've been a lot less short-tempered since I started doing this.

"Free flowing mode" is something that I think will really help me at work. Ever notice how you can sit and stew over a problem, come up with nothing, only to have something pop into your head while you're in the shower? That's because when you put that problem on the back burner, your brain will work away at it, and you'll come up with a creative solution. Taking an analytical approach will be less successful. I've already started incorporating that philosophy into our brainstorming sessions at work, and it's really going well for us. On Friday, we spent a few minutes talking about a project we're going to do. We agreed on the analytical facts -- budget, timeline, audience, etc -- and then just let it go. Yesterday, we reconvened, and had not one, but two great and workable ideas to use. You have to trust in your own talents and creativity and be confident that you'll work things out. It seems that it actually works.

Finally, living in the moment really makes life more enjoyable. The night before last, Jack woke up at 10:00 absolutely freaking out. He was sobbing and would not go back to sleep, then conned us into letting him go downstairs, where he sat with me while I wrote my Apprentice recap, then scored a bonus episode of Elmo. We put him to bed again, and he kept crying and did not want to go to sleep.

I started to get really stressed out. Was Jack sick? Did he have an ear infection? Because if he did, he'd either not get antibiotics and have to tough it out, or he'd get them and have his horrible babboon butt diaper rash. And I'd have to stay home with him the next day, because Steve had a full schedule of meetings. That meant I'd be up with him all night, which meant I'd be home with a sick kid and cranky myself because of lack of sleep, and I was out a day and a half from work last week, and...

Then I realized those were all negative thoughts. Just thoughts, not reality. None of that stuff had happened, and if it did, I'd deal with it. Instead of focusing on all the crazy mind races, I decided to focus just on that moment. I pulled Jack onto my lap, helped him get comfortable, and rocked him. If I started to think about how long it would take him to fall asleep, and when I could quit rocking him, I made myself stoop and just enjoy cuddling with my sweet little guy. In that moment, if I didn't think about the next day or any possible consequences, snuggling with Jack and kissing his little head was wonderful. I didn't feel stressed out; I felt happy and peaceful. Jack relaxed too and fell fast asleep, and when I crawled into bed, I did the same thing. And you know what? He slept just fine the rest of the night and was in a great and healthy mood the next day. All of those things I'd been worried about were just thoughts.

This has turned into a long entry, but I have to say, I'm happy I read these two books. I intend to learn from them, and I think it'll be really good for me.

Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons

I probably can’t be fair to this book right now. Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons is an entertaining bit of fluff. It’s beach reading, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Unfortunately, since I’d just read The Time Traveler’s Wife, it’s fluff felt a little too fluffy for me. It was like eating filet mignon and having cotton candy for dessert.

The book follows the decades long friendship of Slip, Faith, Audrey, Merit, and Kari, who are the members of a book club called Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons (AHEB for short). The characters, though likeable enough, lack depth. There’s the spunky one, the one with the secret past, the sexy one, the beautiful one, and the maternal one, and not a whole lot of nuance beyond that shorthand.

The women have problems and challenges to overcome, but those problems get solved in an awfully tidy way. Kari confesses to her adopted daughter Julia that her birth mother is Kari’s niece, Mary Jo. Julia is upset by the deception and doesn’t talk to her mother for months, filling her with anguish. That anguish, though mostly happens off camera, and the two of them work it out with little fanfare. More egregiously, Merit is abused by her husband, but having her friends witness one time what she’s put up with for years is all it takes to make her decide to get out of her marriage. It’s all a little too simple.

This book read like countless other books I’ve read about women with long friendships and offered nothing new. In a month, I’ll have forgotten all about it.

The Time Traveler's Wife

I'm in two book clubs right now. That's a lot of reading, which is fine because I read fast and read a lot. It also means that I wind up reading books that I might not have picked up otherwise. Sometimes, that's not a good thing. In my brief membership in what I called the Everybody's Mormon But Me book club, I read two books and hated both of them. But usually, I read books that I absolutely love and might not have grabbed off the shelves otherwise.

I might well have read The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, and I'm glad that my Bad Genious Book Club picked it so I would. It was an absolutely beautiful story that I can't stop thinking about.

Henry is the time traveler of the title, and Claire is the wife. Henry has a genetic disorder (explained in adequate, but not boring detail) that causes him to travel back and forth in time, usually during times of stress. He can't control when he time travels or where he goes, but he tends to go to places or to meet people who are important to him. As a result, he travels frequently to meet Claire, his future wife.

The first time Claire meets Henry, she is six and he is in his forties. They have clandestine meetings throughout Claire's childhood and adolescence, and Claire falls in love with him. Henry, however, doesn't meet Claire until he's 28 and Claire is 20. It is fascinating to see how time folds in on itself. In the earlier meetings, Henry knows much about their future; in later meetings, Claire does.

The book made me think a lot about free will. Henry has discovered that you cannot change your past. His mother dies horribly in a car accident, and Henry time travels repeatedly to that scene, but finds himself powerless to change it. But does Claire have free will? If she hadn't known from an early age that she'd end up marrying Henry, would she have asked him out when she meets him at 20? If she hadn't known that one of the most trying periods of their life would turn out well, would she have handled it differently? If Henry hadn't told her that as an adult, she loves coffee with cream and sugar, would she have?

There are, of course, elements of science fiction to the book, but first and foremost, it is a love story. Claire is a Penelope, waiting for her traveller to return to her, and Henry is Odysseus, trying desperately to get to her. How they make their unusual lives work is a real testament to their love.

I can't wait for book club discussion to begin. In the meantime, Steve is reading the book and I am loving talking about it with him. This was a great start to 2007's reading.

It's a Boy

I'm trying to get better about writing up books that I've read. Steve asked me how many books I read in 2006, and I had no idea. He, of course, has a tidy little list, and that's part of what I intended this to be. So, without further ado...

I recently finished It's a Boy: Women Writers on Raising Sons. As you can guess from the title it is essays written by women who are, um, raising sons. There have been many times when I've watched Jack run around the house like a maniac yelling, "RAAARRR!" when I have wondered if things might be different around here if we had a girl. It's not like I encouraged him to run around roaring rather than sitting quietly. Well, the women who contributed to this book tend to be liberal women like me who don't want any gender stereotypes anywhere near our kids. If our boys want to play with dolls or wear pink feather boas in dress up, that's fine and we'll support them. But despite these open-minded attitudes, many of the women found that their boys were... boys. Instead of being accepting of their sons' desire to play with dolls, they had to accept their desire to not play with dolls.

Makes you wonder if the differences between boys and girls aren't all gender typing by society, but if there are some inherent differences. Sure, the fact that it is nearly impossible to buy an outfit for a baby boy that is not blue and does not have trucks, sports equipment, or tools on it contributes in part to this, but I think if we raised these kids in the wild, away from the influence of Carter's, there would still be behavior on the spectrum that we expect.

The essays were funny, sad, heartbreaking, and just plain interesting. I'd recommend this to all of my fellow Mothers of Boys.

Book Time

I've been kind of slacking lately on posting my book reviews, so I have a little bit of catch up to do. I just finished Freddy and Fredericka by Mark Helprin. Freddy is the Prince of Wales and heir to the English throne, and Fredericka is his wife. When the story begins, Freddy is not near ready to be king. His ridiculous antics make him fodder for the tabloids, and no one respects him. Fredericka is beloved by the press, but she is beautiful and simple minded. When Freddy and Fredericka's respectability reaches a crisis point, the Queen calls in a mysterious advisor named Mr. Neil. Mr. Neil (whose name is an anagram for Merlin) gives Freddy and Fredericka a quest: They must conquer the United States.

The premise of the book is great, and parts of it are absolutely hysterical. There are also soaring descriptions of the United States, of the changes that the prince and princess undergo, and of their love story. Unfortunately, at over 500 pages, the book could have used some editing. Towards the end, I was rolling my eyes at yet another comic misunderstanding. Still, overall, this was good fun.

Although I love writer Nick Hornby, I was reluctant to pick up his book A Long Way Down. Four people meet at the top of a tall building on New Year's Eve, all with the intent to commit suicide. Didn't sound appealing to me. But I read it, and damned if he didn't make it funny and engaging. I read this a few months ago at the beach, and it was the perfect vacation read. The characters were interesting, the action moved quickly, and the story absolutely made me laugh. I'll pick this one up again.

Grab Bag

Time for me to post some random stuff, with no unifying theme!

No exaggeration, I have read Goodnight Moon at least eight times in the past 24 hours. Jack keeps bringing it to me to read, and one of the excellent things about being a toddler is that if you hand somebody a book, they will snuggle with you and read it to you. And when they finish reading it, if you smile at them and say, "Mores?" they'll read it again. Anyway, Jack managed to impress me with his obvious brilliance recently. When I got to the line, "And a quiet old lady who was whispering," Jack filled in the next line: "Hush."

Clearly, the boy is gifted, no?

Steve and I have been on high alert recently because there have been four cases of Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease in Jack's class at school. Besides its name sounding vaguely medieval, like bubonic plague or someething, the actual symptoms sound really nasty. Painful sores in the mouth that make it difficult for some children to eat? Thanks, we'll pass. Thus we've been practicing OCD levels of hand washing with him, as well as giving him a bath every night instead of every other night. So yesterday, the kid's nap schedule was all screwed up. Refused to sleep at his usual time of 12:00, preferring to get in more time with Mommy and Daddy. I took him on a nature walk (fun, and at a pace of about two inches a minute, clearly tons of exercise), and on the way home at 5:00, he passed out in his car seat. I put him in his crib for a short nap and hoped that Steve and I might manage a dinner alone. He woke up about 45 minutes later freaking out. I found him in his crib, sobbing and staring at the wall like a mental patient. He would not stop sobbing, no matter what we did to comfort or distract him. We totally feared the worst, so I took his temperature -- normal. Good. Steve took advantage of his screaming to peer into his mouth with a flashlight for the dreaded Painful Sores. None to be seen, but we did see about eight billion new teeth painfully breaking through his gums. Some Tylenol, Ambesol, and a fudgecicle later, and the boy was good as new. Everybody cross your fingers that Jack will avoid the plague.

And as our final piece of Grab Bag Goodness, Steve and I have established a new tradition at Stately Wasser Manor. Every Friday night, the three of us will gather at Starbucks for Family Happy Hour. Jack will have some vanilla milk and a treat, and we'll have coffees. Then after the Cub goes to bed, Steve and I will get takeout and watch a movie. I really like the idea of incorporating some ritual and tradition into our everyday lives. It's something I now look forward to every week, and Steve and I have been carefully selecting the best Netflix movie and reserving it for Fridays. As Jack gets older, he'll join us for dinner, then for the movie. We'll keep things kid friendly, of course, but I know there are a wealth of options besides Elmo's World The Great Outdoors that the three of us can watch.