Family Time and Lord of the Flies- It's All PG-13

Well it's been a crazy few weeks. We went to the every-other-year Brady family reunion at the end of June and had a great time. I always love hanging out with Husband's cousins and seeing the kids all hang out together. Altogether we're almost 100 people with half of those being kiddos. It's always really fun and somewhat exhausting.

HIGHLIGHTS:

Mr.Yuke(4) finding his BEST BUDDY Mr.J.T.(5) and spending every single minute together. Mr.J.T.(5) has a rule at his house that he can't visit friends/they can't visit him if his mom doesn't know their parents. He was shocked and then overjoyed to discover that I KNOW HIS MOM!!!!! so Mr.Yuke(4) can come over. !!!! I said, "Sure. SOMEtime. Not tomorrow. Not this year. But SOMEtime."
Mr.Yuke(4) didn't miss a beat: Yeah! I know! Like maybe when I'm PG-13 THEN I could go there!!!!!
They made plans to "be best buddies until [they] DIE. And after too."

CousinPA put together a funniest home videos night that had a special tribute to Husband's Grandma who you may remember left us the same week I lost the twins. It was really beautiful and had that "Let me go home" song on it that I love so much. Everyone was in tears. It was great. The woman lived a very full life. I told Husband later that I hope I live even half that full. (With this many kiddos that may be unavoidable. : ) )

They had a BIG GI-NORMOUS INFLATABLE WATERSLIDE on the first day. No, seriously. It was BIG.

We do a generations dinner one of the nights. I LOVE that. This year the grandparents all went out at 5:30 while us parents took our kids swimming in the hotel pool to get them tired, fed them fast food, and got them ready for bed so that the Grandparents could watch them at the hotel when they got back while we went out to dinner. We went to Chili's and had a great time. My favorite part of the evening was when SingerGirl told us an Emily Watts story. Essentially the story was about a trip Emily Watts took to Vegas and the intimidation she felt in hanging out in her bathing suit at the casino pool next to all the bronze hard-bodies. She ended up deciding that she would do them all the service of having someone to look better than in order for them to feel good about themselves. Charitable, no? Well at this point NotAFuddyDuddy says, "You know, I guess I always thought- it's not like people don't know what I look like. I'm not going to take off my clothes and they're going to go- 'OH MY GOSH!!! She's FAT!!!!! I had NO idea!' I thoroughly enjoyed that. Hopefully the humor wasn't just limited to her delivery of it.

The day after the reunion was over, we spent the day in one of our country's beautiful National Parks, just the eight of us. (Hee hee. That sounds funny.) Anyway, it was just us. It was really nice. We saw some beautiful scenery, hiked to a watertrickle, went to a museum, and drove THROUGH a mountain. MonsterTruck(3) got heat exhaustion and we didn't know the extent of it until that night as we were making the road trip back home when he started HALLUCINATING. I am not kidding. I'm talking FULL-ON acid-trip-style freak-out. Poor little kid. He just couldn't understand why we weren't DOING ANYTHING ABOUT THIS. (!!!!!!!!!!!) He screamed bloody murder for half an hour until we got home and got him in the shower. He never was convinced that what he was seeing was not there.

He had a fever the next day so I took him to the doctor. Turns out the heat exhaustion had combined with a virus we picked up at the reunion (The Pinkiest(5) got it too) and caused an extra-special side effect. Scary.

A couple days later I got said virus. Then I felt REALLY bad for the boy. It was HORR. I. BLE. It was some sort of infection of the spinal fluid that was localized in the neck and upper back. You know that feeling when water gets up your nose? Well it was like that only in your upper spine and the base of your head. It hurt A LOT and my arms got really weak like I couldn't lift them. Luckily the terrible pain and fever only lasted about a day and a half, but the recovery took almost a week of sleeping. The three of us slept a lot when we got back.

So I finally recovered from that fun (during which time the 4th of July came and went). [You know I was sick because the 4th is my MOST FAVORITEST holiday ever and I was so tired that all I was able to blog about it was the sentence I put down there about that stupid, terrible waste of $40 we spent at the movie theater that day. SO- happy 4th everyone! Freedom is a privilege that must be carefully guarded. : )] So anyway- I recovered. The next day I thought, oh good. I can finally get up and some stuff done. I got up. I showered. I put in a load of laundry. And I got a migraine. This pretty much only happens to me when I'm pregnant (migraines, that is). It was one of the really bad ones when you can't SEE. Sight is something that I depend on pretty heavily. Like toothpaste. And underwires. I NEED to see. I laid down in bed and sent the kids to every single neighbor within 5 houses in any direction in search of a caffeinated beverage. (That is DIVINE advice from my old OB.) Nobody had anything. I had no choice but to try to sleep it off, knowing full-well the Lord of the Flies scenario that would ensue. At one point during the day I vaguely remember hearing someone yell, "Kryptonite(1) ate the WHOLE jar of jelly!" I had visions of jelly stains on every surface of the first floor as I dozed. Fortune smiled on me in the form of the ProprietoroftheAllenCafe. She had loaned me a library book and she dropped by to get it so she could return it (hopefully before any overdue fines?). I'm a little hazy on the details but I know that upon seeing my children and the state they were in (I can only imagine, having spent my day gaining an appreciation for the blind,) she asked Little Mommy(9) if I was ok and did I need any help? LittleMommy(9) promptly replied that I had a migraine and what I needed was caffeine. TheProprietoroftheAllenCafe offered to get me something on her way back from the library and LittleMommy(9) sweetly informed her that it would need to be Dr. Pepper. (She's a good kid.) That angel of a woman brought me 2 liters of Dr. Pepper and took my jelly-slathered baby home with her. I picked Kryptonite(1) up about 4 hours later when the caffeine had kicked in and I could see again. I don't know what she looked like when she left but apparently it was bad enough to neccessitate a bath. THANK YOU ALLENCAFELADY!!! YOU ARE A LIFE-SAVER! (Unfortunately I think I probably mean that literally because who KNOWS what could have happened to her before Husband came home?)

Now I am trying to hang in there for a couple more weeks until FedEx brings my Twilight book. I re-re-read the three I have but there is still a couple weeks to go. Someone give me something to read, quick!!!

NOT GOOSE!!!!!

The hormones are a ragin' I tell you. Pregnancy is a funny thing. It's no wonder that just a century ago they were locking pregnant women up in asylums. That doesn't look like I spelled that right. Oh well. You know what I mean. The water works are just really primed and ready to go at any little thing. Like freedom. And fireworks. And Kryptonite(1) driving cars on my arm.

I read THE BEST book this week. For the official review you can look here, but suffice it to say, I broke up with Mr. Darcy over it. I loaned it to AmishAtHeart, but when she finishes it I am reading it again. I cried my eyes out at some parts so hard that my shirt was soaked. But that could be the hormones. Because I did the same thing last week when Maverick lost Goose. Again. : )

Virginity and Death: Despereaux Rides Again

"When you have a family of eight, there necessarily needs be a system of rules to manage the inevitable chaos. Some of these rules are important. Some aren't."

Remember that? Remember when, a little less than a year ago I posted about Max and I gently poked fun at Husband's declaration that THERE IS NO EATING IN THE CAR?

Yes. I remember that.

"Max lost her virginity a long time ago. Max is my car." Recently Max has been defiled. I'll come back to that.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of meeting LindseyLonglegs, a blogger whom I read with some regularity and who, until very recently (when I sort of went under the radar with post-partum depression and then morning sickness), had a link to this site on her blog. (HINT HINT.) : ) Meeting Lindsey was really fun. Maybe some of you remember that a while back I offered a little prize to the first commentor on my 100th post. Well Lindsey was the lucky "alert reader" who won that distinction and in light of this post, I felt the only possible fitting prize would be one of every kind of cupcake from Flour Girls and Dough Boys because seriously? Can anything else compare? So I procured the cupcakes and drove the long way to meet her. The weather was gorgeous (it's about time!) and as long as you were in the sun it was "not even cold!" as ThePinkiest(5) put it. I was really excited, both to meet her and to present her with those beautiful cupcakes. I wish I had a picture of them but my phone got a VIRUS and I can no longer send pics. Very sad. I was going to steal the pics from Lindsey's blog but she can't find her cords to upload them. Let's just say that the cupcakes are a work of art and that nothing else I can say would do them justice. She was adequately impressed and said they received her highest recommendation yet. That place should really start putting me on their payroll. : ) (Just kidding, Carol! I DO wish you'd put a link to your menu on your blog though. It would make telling people about you SO much easier.)

Apparently, one of the benefits of living out in the country, is that when your kids leave the van door open for five minutes or so, you can have a mouse live in your car. So I get to the meeting place to find Lindsey, go to get the stroller out of the back of Max, and that is when I saw it. A cute, furry little butt scurrying its Hanta-virus-carrying self away from the stroller up to the front of the van- my beautiful, wonderful, just-completely-vacuumed-out-in-March van. THERE WAS A MOUSE. IN. MY. CAR. I did the only natural thing I could do: I screamed, threw the stroller on the ground to make sure the little vermin didn't have any friends, and slammed the car shut. I opened the stoller up (it was safe by the way), debated for a second, put the baby in it, and then opened the front door to see if I could locate the disgusting little creature. Nope. He was long gone. To his deluxe condo (which I pay over 5oo$ a month for) up under the dash. I decided there was not much I could do at that point and my kids were already heading off to see the sights without me so I just locked the car and tried to forget about it temporarily.

Ever try to forget there's something crawly pooping in your very own car? It doesn't really work. So although I enjoyed meeting Lindsey, my pregnancy brain was pretty much fixated on two things and I am sure I was not a sparkling conversationalist. (For example: Lindsey asked me what blogs I read. I couldn't think of any. I didn't even think to tell her about Pioneer Woman. I LOVE that blog. Nope. I had nothin'.) (Thanks for hanging out with me Linds, sorry I was not all there.) The two things I was fixating on were these- 1) Do we have Hanta virus in ThePlaceThatILive and 2) Is there a way to possibly take care of the whole entire mess without Husband actually finding out? The answer to #1 is sadly, yes. I confirmed that with the county health department today. Hopefully we won't all die in two weeks. The answer to #2 is HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! I have children! The rodent fumes must have been interfering with my ability to think clearly because not even pregnancy brain would bring on an idea THAT ludicrous. I figured it would be about .2 seconds after Husband pulled up to the house before the kids had run out to his car and were knocking on his car window to tell him the wonderfully exciting news: THERE IS A MOUSE IN OUR CAR!!!!!!!!! So there was only one thing to do. I had to call him and confess the entire situation to him, admitting my own partial guilt in the situation for disregarding his Rule that THERE IS NO EATING IN THE CAR, thus creating an environment which would entice any half-sane, olfactorily challenged mouse into setting up residence there. Husband is very good and did not even get angry or gloat. I wish I was that good. I'm going to be. Someday.

Remember that post about Max from last year that I mentioned earlier? You may remember that in that same post I also blogged about our tradition of reading aloud. The book we are almost finished reading right now is The Tale of Despereaux. It is the story of a brave little mouse who fights against all odds to save the Princess he loves. It's a pretty ok story. Definitely not my favorite but the kids have really seemed to enjoy it. There are a lot of annoying asides to the reader that say stupid things like, "Now dear reader, you know of course...". The whole "dear reader" thing makes me kind of want to puke. The nice thing about readalouds it that you can leave that part out and then it's not annoying to anyone but the person who actually sees the page. Well anyway, Despereaux is a favorite around here.

Last night as Husband and I were systematically removing all the items from the van with our nitrile gloves on so we could get to the mouse STUFF to spray it down, to clean it up, to take the car to get it steam cleaned/detailed (aren't rodents FUN?), Bubba(7), who by nature is a very sensitive child, realized what was imminent. "Do you have to KILL the mouse?"
Me: Yes, honey.
Bubba(7): Why can't you just let it go?
Husband: Because it would just come back. Or try to live in our garage. Or our house.
Me: The mouse HAS TO DIE. Honey.
Bubba(7) tearing up: But why do you have to kill it?
He cried the rest of the evening and was still in tears as he went to bed, knowing full well that his evil parents were going to send poor little Despereaux to his untimely grave. I really AM that cruel. (Now right off, any mom is going to tell you that my priorities are exactly right on target. Of course "no food in the car" is WAY more important than reading "Charlotte's Web" before watching it- let's just get that straight right now.) And of course killing Despereaux is WAY more important than allowing a child's literary character to maintain residence in the family automobile. I didn't let Charlotte and her disgusting little egg sac live in my doorway and I'm not affording Despereaux any such luxury either. Some kids would tell me I'm wrong. That's why we're the moms. And why there is a mouse trap with a dead mouse in the garbage can right now.

Multiple Personality Disorder?

My other blog got this:

Movie Reviews

Good thing I'm not shooting jumpshots. I'm too inconsistent!

Demotion

Remember my shame? And then my subsequent promotion? Well apparently it's been rescinded.

TV Reviews

I guess I just need to accept it and move on. In honor of the "honor", I have officially launched the book review blog previously promised. Allow me to direct you to Something More Substantial. Enjoy!

Made My Day and Other Random Stuff

Made My Day
My favorite commentor on The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks is Jeff. Jeff is a published columnist and (apparently) a successful frelance writer- and he thinks I'M funny! Yay! If a journalist/graduate student finds things I write entertaining, maybe there's hope that I really COULD write that book someday.


Other Stuff

Hmmm. If only I had some scissors to open the package...

WHO invented those stupid packages anyway?

Another Funny Mother I Don't Know who I found on the "Blog" of "Un...", posted some VERY useful information on her blog today. Go check it out.

Twilight News

The movie which is coming out in December is in production right now. I was excited about this news at first but the more I think about it, the more I think they're probably going to slaughter the story. I don't like their casting decisions, especially for Bella. In an interview with MTV's movie blog, the actress sounded like she hadn't even read the book.

That is so wrong.

I was going to link to the interview but today is the announcement for the next book and about 10 zillion breathless women are trying to get on stepheniemeyer.com right now, making this impossible. I'll try to put up the link later.

The official release date for the fourth book "Breaking Dawn", is August 2, 2008. (Insert SQUEAL OF EXCITEMENT here.) It is now available for preorder on Amazon, and Barnes and Noble dot coms.

This I Know

I got my morning chuckle when I read a snide remark today about liberals blaming AIDS on a lack of federal funding. Outside of that one snark, I didn't find the site it was on enjoyable and I won't be returning. I did, however, get a kick out of that.

I bring up the subject of liberals, because it has come to my attention that I have not sufficiently explained my position on political "correctness" on this blog. It boils down to this: I don't think anyone in this country should be so easily offended that politically "incorrect" statements give rise to the behavior which they do. (Lobbying, protesting, whining, regulating, etc....) This came up because a cherished old friend of mine (who, after some deliberation about Anne Shirley and her bosom friend Dianna, I've decided instead to call My Own Personal Dharma) recently emailed me a book recommendation- a book she enjoyed and which, based on her memory of our history together, she thought I might also enjoy. With the description of the book was a note in which she expressed that she was hesitant to send the book, afraid it might offend me. She thought this (no thanks I'm sure to my review of that other book) because some of the reviews on Amazon.com said the book was received by some readers as feminist and anti-Christian. (It is important to note that the book is set in medieval times. A time period that was, by nature, anti-Christian. It was called the "dark ages" for a reason.) As far as the feminism goes, I am not afraid of feminists nor so easily offended. Do I think the world has a very distorted view of women's strengths, abilities, and roles? YES. Am I going to curl up in a ball and cry about it? No. For the same reason I spurn political "correctness" so vehemently- that people need to get a backbone and not let the fact that someone somewhere might be saying something out loud about God, bother them- I am not. (My Own Personal Dharma is one of those, my friends who stand far to the left of me and Dr. Laura and for some reason still seem to like me anyway. And I like her.) No, rather than getting fetal and letting the tears flow, I will instead, continue to stand for what is right without shame and I will not get offended if people don't believe me. I hope they will afford me the same courtesy.

To that end, I would like to tell you what it is that I believe, so there's not all this weirdness between us. I hope that when all of you know where I stand, we can go forward as friends and without fear.

I believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost. I believe that they live and that they are three separate and distinct beings. I believe that God hears and answers prayers if we have faith and are willing to hear his answers. Sometimes they are not the answers we want or expect. I believe that we are the literal and beloved spirit children of our Father in Heaven and that we lived with him before we came to this earth, and that we have both a divine nature and destiny. I believe our bodies are a sacred gift from God and that we should do all in our power to take care of them, from exercising and eating right to avoiding addictive substances. I don't drink or smoke. I believe people will be punished for their own sins, and not for Adam's transgression. I believe that through the Atonement of Christ, all mankind may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel. I believe that we are saved through the grace of Christ after all that we can do. I believe God would not have gone to all the trouble to tell the prophets and apostles so much about how people should comport themselves if He did not care about it.

I believe that a man must be called of God, by prophecy, and by the laying on of hands by those in authority, to preach the gospel and administer the ordinances thereof.

I believe that marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God and that the family is central to the Creator's plan for the eternal destiny of His children. I believe that sacred ordinances and covenants available in holy temples enable family relationships to be perpetuated beyond the grave. I believe that gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose. I believe that sexual relations should be kept within the bounds of marriage between a husband and wife who have been legally and lawfully wedded. I believe in the sanctity of life and it's importance in God's plan. I am against abortion. I believe parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, to teach them to love and serve one another, to observe the commandments of God and to be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. I believe that raising children in this way is the path to our greatest happiness and the most noble endeavor a couple can undertake. I also believe that husbands and wives will be held accountable before God for how they execute this greatest of responsibilities. I believe children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother who honor marital vows with complete fidelity. I believe successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities. I believe that with the sacred endowment of gender come certain responsibilities. Fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. In these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners. I realize many times circumstances arise when there is only one parent. I am not saying these people cannot be successful. I am saying that the responsibility has been divinely divided in this way, and that God has given each of us inherent gifts specific to our genders, to assist us in our respective stewardships. A single parent can do a wonderful job and raise wonderful children, but as a child from a broken home, I feel that I can say- that parent will have more difficulty doing so than two parents who love each other would together. I believe that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities, and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets.

I believe the Bible to be the word of God, as far as it is translated correctly. I also believe the Book of Mormon to be the word of God. I believe there is a living prophet on the earth today and that the restoration of the priesthood and revelation foretold of in the scriptures has come. I believe we live in the last days and that Jesus Christ will come again.

I claim the privilege of worshipping Almighty God according to the dictates of my own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, worship how, when, or what they may. I believe in the freedom of speech, without which I could not be writing this blog. I also believe in being respectful to those around you and using freedom of speech in a manner that is considerate of others' rights to not hear what it is you might have to say. (As long as I'm on the respect issue- I believe that P.[ublic] D.[isplays of] A.[ffection] are rude and inconsiderate, no matter who they are between.) I believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, and in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law. I believe that any law-abiding person is welcome to come to this country and better their circumstances. I believe that a high percentage of illegal immigrants do not sustain the law. If they were law-abiding people they would not be here, they'd be waiting for their visas like everyone else. I believe that people have a sacred responsibility to vote if they live in a country where this right is afforded to them. I believe that voting for Hillary is wrong. (Ha Ha) I believe in upholding the Constitution of the United States and that, in spite of America's flaws, ours is still the best system of government in the world. I believe in our sovereignty as a nation and that we should stay away from the U.N..

I believe that we should all be honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and that we should be doing good to all men in whatever ways we can. I believe and try to follow the admonition of Paul- I believe all things, I hope all things, my people have endured many things and we hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report of praiseworthy, I strive to seek after these things.

I believe in love. I believe in chocolate and femininity and keeping a journal. I believe that the beauties of this earth are a testament of the Creator

and a gift from Him to help us remember just how much we are loved. I believe that God has given man the charge to take care of the earth and that wastefulness of any thing is always abhorrant, but also that the earth's resources are here for us to use. I love the seasons and bad weather and the opportunities they are to be reminded that storms pass and that the sun always shines again. (Some places more than others.)


I believe that every single person on this earth has something positive to offer it (and I try to remember that when I am dealing with them. : ) ) I believe that it's never too late to start over, that the adage "an old dog can't learn new tricks" is a lie, and that every single day is a gift which we can use to stand a little taller and do a little more. I believe we should all try to do so.


I realized as I was just reading over what I wrote up there, that I misspoke. I said these are the things I believe. I should have said these are the things I know, because I do know them. I realize there are going to be people- maybe lots of people- who don't agree with me. Some may even become angry at my conviction. They will accuse me of hating people who are different from me (which I do not), of being narrow-minded (which I am not) and of not thinking for myself (which is not now nor has it ever been the case- since I was eight months old). I do not pass judgement on people who disagree with me. I believe most of those people have not gained their own testimony of these things. I think most people in this world are just trying to do their best and be good people. That is what I would like to believe, anyway- that people do the best they can with the knowledge and emotional scars they have.

I love My Own Personal Dharma- I always have- and many others who stand with her, a little further to the left than I. This is who I am. I am not afraid of other opinions- I am not so easily offended. I hope none of you are either. I had a teacher once who said, "I've found that with people who are easily offended, it is almost always because they have too much pride." I don't know if this is universally true, but I do tend to believe it in the case of political "correctness".

Oh- one more thing. I believe that anyone can know the truthfulness of these things if they exercise enough faith to ask God, believing that they will receive an answer. I know the words of the prophets are true which said: "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him." (James 1:5)

"...and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, having real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost. And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things." (Mor. 10:4-5)

Love Walked In

If only to restore balance to the force, I am writing a review for a book I read this week that I LOVED. After this I will start a separate blog for book reviews. The book is called "Love Walked In" by Marisa de los Santos. She is an award-winning poet with a PhD in Literature and Creative Writing. This was her first novel and it may as well be her last as far as I'm concerned because she has already achieved perfection and there is nowhere left to go but down.

Among other things, the book is an homage to classic American cinema. You know the movies I'm talking about. The beautiful romances between debonair actors like Cary Grant or Clark Gable and fabulous leading women who always look a little soft around the edges in their closeups, as if their sheer radiance was too much for the old-time cameras to photograph properly- all photographed on black and white film. Those movies that people are still watching 80 years later because they are such great romances. If you don't like those movies, maybe this book isn't for you- although the language is so deliciously, exactly, wonderfully wonderful that any well-read person is sure to appreciate it.

In addition to the numerous references to the silver screen, the book is also a nod to countless characters from works of great literature. Sara Crewe, Jo and Beth March, Anne Shirley, Jen Pringle, Mary Lennox, Scout and Jem, Uriah Heap, Miss Havisham, Lear and Cordelia, Voldemort, and Snape are just a handful of the characters I remember being referenced in the book- each a little golden nugget tucked into the pages of a delightful story about family, love, loss, being lost, being found, finding love again, and finding what it is that we love.

Keeping true to the homage, the author takes a classic movie approach to the sex in this book. The main character describes a date with her dream-come-true saying,

"I'm a fan of suggestion, obliquity, discretion, the cut to the morning after, the camera's eye turning upward, outward-to the sky, to the cuckoo clock over the bed, to the rushing river, away. Forget those slick bodies tangled on the floor or grappling on kitchen tables. Sexy is Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed talking into the same telephone receiver, their anger tipping reluctantly over into desire, the desire as much in the distance separating their two mouths as in their proximity to each other. What I'm saying is, you're not getting details-not detailed details anyway. If you're anything like I am and, like most people, I assume most people are like I am, this is just fine with you."

Refreshing and romantic and yet you feel every minute of the time they're together. Don't get me wrong, it's not all Amish level action. There is a scene with one of the antagonists that is less subtle, but it is not the focus and is tastefully handled by the author.

To quote the book, "it is definitely on the list of perfect things. You know what I mean, the list that includes the starry sky over the desert, grilled cheese sandwiches, The Great Gatsby, the Chrysler building, Ella Fitzgerald singing, "It Don't Mean a Thing (If You Ain't Got That Swing)," white peonies, and those little sketches of hands by Leondardo da Vinci." Would that we all would take author Sarah Ban Breathnach's advice and "excavate our authentic selves". What is on your list of perfect things?

(I suppose to be fair to that other book, I should include here that this book does have some obscenity in it as well. I think I counted the f-word seven times and the misuse of the names of God and the Savior a number of times. Although I think obscenity is never appropriate, I found it considerably less offensive in this book because the characters who were using it were usually incensed about something, as opposed to just casually slipping it in, accomplishing nothing but the muddying of the English language and it's accepted vernacular.)

I would recommend this book to the well-read and the lover of romances. I think it is my new favorite book of all time. I am re-reading it now at a slower pace to be sure that is an accurate statement. Even if it turns out not to be, it is DEFINITELY up there. I don't think it is a book that will ever be a best-seller and I noticed that it only had an average rating on Goodreads of 3.87 or something close to that but I believe this is because the vocabulary and the literary references are too advanced to appeal to the masses.

The one and only problem I had with the book was that I truly had to suspend reality when it came to the character Clare, an 11 year-old girl with a working vocabulary- and at times an intellect- superior to anyone I met at college. I was able to overlook Clare because, to me, Cornelia (the adult in the book) is the most real person I have ever read on the page.

Read this book. Or don't- but if you don't I think you're missing out.

The Jane Austen Book Club

by Karen Joy Fowler. Maybe you've heard of it? It was just released as a major motion picture. Those of you who've been reading the blog for a while know my stance on screen adaptations so I read the book this weekend. I have not DISLIKED a book so much since 6th grade when Mr. Percy ruined by spring break by forcing me to wade through 300 pages of politcally motivated talking bunnies. There is not enough I can say about how much I did not enjoy this book, but here is a start.


A Little to the Left
If I were in a ballroom filled with hundreds of people and this author, I feel almost certain I would not meet another person who so totally disagrees with my personal view of the world. This book is extremely politically "correct". The characters are a smattering of mid-20's to mid-60's women, only one of whom needs a man- and this is passed off as acceptable because she and her husband are a mixed latina-caucasian marriage. One woman is homosexual and the author states that this is due to "a genetic code" as if this is a proven fact. The only main character who is a man is made pc by the emasculinization of him in a flashback to his childhood in which he is for the hundredth time helpless and he comes to the realization that he will rely on his big sisters to rescue him in any situation for the rest of his life. The author ends the account with the statement that, "no one who'd known Grigg since infancy could have doubted he was born to be a heroine." (Italics added.) This leaves the question of his sexual orientation dubious until the end of the book when he hooks up with one of the women.

Of the other two men who appear in the book, one is the evil-husband-who-leaves, and the other is the perfect husband who is not really wanted or needed but is a nice thing to have. Yuck. To think there are all these men in this country who experienced such a serious lapse in judgement and had the audacity to be born white, masculine men. The nerve. Let's punish them.


Also, the author is preachy about other leftist issues including such things as the environment. I quote, "A few shells were washed over at the water's edge, small and perfect, but everyone was too ecologically well behaved to pick these up." (Italics added.) Would someone please mind telling me when it became bad for the environment to pick up seashells at the beach?


Literally Speaking
For those of you my friends who stand far to the left of me and Dr. Laura, I want to explain why this book is still garbage even if you share the author's political opinions. First of all, there is almost no plot. None.

Second of all, the women are snotty, pretentious, and clearly think they are superior to men. There is a scene in the book in which the characters openly mock a published author at a fundraiser dinner after he comments that, "I don't read much women's stuff. I like a good plot." This is written as a blunder of conversation and the women very unlikeably and condescendingly make him pay for it for the rest of the evening. (It reminded me of Lady Catherine in Pride and Prejudice when she begins criticizing Elizabeth Bennet's performance at the pianoforte by saying, "I never learned to play the pianoforte, but if I had learnt, I should be a true proficient.")

It is possible that the author may have written the nearly plotless book as a nod to Jane Austen. Many critics contend that nothing happens in her books. I believe this shows great ignorance. So much happens in them that when made into a good movie it has to be six hours long. Not only that, but even holding to the argument that Austen's characters move about very little in their humdrum lives, you still care about them deeply. The author of The Jane Austen Book Club did not achieve this in spite of the enormous effort she put into writing them each a tragic backstory. There is not enough of a now-story for you to care or not care. Their background stories- which take up 3/4 of the book, are for the most part, those moments in our lives that each of us are most ashamed of and which, if given a chance, we would go back and change. They are not very likeable people and as I was reading, I kept hoping that all the unpleasant histories of these people would somehow either be overcome or that they would be better people in the end because of their experiences with the books or each other. Not so. While one or two may have found minimal happiness in spite of their previous experiences, the attention the author gives this is so miniscule in comparison to the long drawn out accounts of misery, that it affords the reader almost no satisfaction at all. The compensation for wading through all their personal garbage is too little to make it worth it. I think the author must be aware of this on some level because at the end of the book one of her characters thinks to herself, "What if you had a happy ending and didn't notice? Sylvia made a mental note. Don't miss the happy ending." It's that obscure.

A couple of the characters use the f-word a lot. (I stopped counting at 11 times.) I suspect that the author was trying to make this a literary device to denote the demarcation between the younger and older generations, but this distinction was unnecessary, distracting, and added nothing to their already established personalities. It was extraneous and offensive.

You all know I am the queen of throwing out random quotations and movie references mid-conversation. And yet, when the author unashamedly steals phrases from Jane Austen, speaking of her characters without giving the credit to Austen by the use of quotation marks or in any other way (e.g.- "It put her in mind of something...", and a hundred other turns of phrase that are period-derived syntax) I found it very grating. I think she did this intentionally to illustrate how much the books permeated the characters' lives, but it came off as contrived and pompous. (Look at me! Look at me! I'm writing like Jane Austen!)

The hands-down most irritating thing about the writing in The Jane Austen Book Club was the perspective it was written from. It is third person omniscient so the narrator knows what everyone is thinking, yet it is written in the first person so the narrator is repeatedly saying, "WE" did this and "WE" thought that. The narrator is never identified as any one of the characters and in the end the best the reader can do is to assume the narrator is some nebulous collective psyche. The other alternative is that the narrator is Jane Austen herself, since she is the only other "person" there who is not one of the main characters- but if that was the intention, it was unclear and presumptuous.


Reviews
Patricia T O'Connor of The New York Times Book Review said of this book,
"This exquisite novel is bigger and more ambitious than it appears... Fowler's shrewdest, funniest fiction yet, a novel about how we engage with a novel. You don't have to be a student of Jane Austen to enjoy it, either...Lovers of Austen will relish this book, but I envy any reader who comes to it unfamiliar with her. There's no better introduction."

Wow. I don't even know where to start. What a load of crap. Sorry. But it's true. If this not-funny-at-all book is her funniest, pity the reader who's read any of her other work. I am a lover of Jane Austen books and I did not enjoy this at all. The book discussions were minimal and they assumed you have a working knowledge and memory of every single one of the books. Not only that, but the people trail in and out of points they're making as if you, the reader, are expected to be able to finish their thoughts on your own, they are so obvious to the author. Anyone who has not read at least some of the books will be lost during every book discussion the club has. To say "there's no better introduction" to Jane Austen is tantamount to saying, "Hey. I found some old rotton produce at the bottom of the vegetable bin. Let's serve that as the appetizer to all our guests. Then when we bring out the main course they will be REALLY excited to dig in." Please. I hope that nobody anywhere reads this before reading Austen's own works. I would hate to think that they would forever have this book associated with her books. In short, I would not recommend this book to anyone. At all. Ever.

Bedtime Tourette's and Music to My Ears

Every night when it's time to get ready for bed, we go through the same routine. At 7:00, everyone gets their p.j.'s on, brushes their teeth, the girls put their hair up so it doesn't get all tangled in the night, and everyone comes downstairs. They all (even Monster Truck(2)) write in their journals while we read aloud for half an hour. Currently we are reading The Tale of Despereaux. At the end of reading time, we sing a song, say a prayer together as a family, and everyone gets to choose a book to take to bed. They read in bed quietly for another half an hour. Then they say their own prayers, get tucked in, and it's lights out. And then I check to make sure the carbon monoxide detector is still working because clearly I am hallucinating. This is the routine that we all agreed to as a family and is posted on the dining room wall. It's the routine that is a thing of beauty once every new moon. The one which is nearly always the same that I referred to up there at the beginning is:

At 7:00 I say, "Okay, guys. Go get ready for bed." They all run (shrieking at the top of their lungs) up the stairs like a pack of howler monkeys and proceed to do any- and every- thing. Except get ready for bed. They laugh and I yell, "Get ready for bed." They fight and I say, "Get your p.j.'s on!" Someone gets hurt and I yell, "It wouldn't have happened if you weren't screwing around. Get ready for bed." (Fill in the blank) comes downstairs and says, "I can't find my toothbrush." After about ten minutes of intermittent reminders from me to "GET READY FOR BED!", I call everyone downstairs for journals, etc. and send whichever two children who are still wearing their jeans and t-shirts back upstairs to get their jammies on. For real this time. ("GET READY FOR BED!") The kids who are in p.j.'s get sent back upstairs to really brush their teeth this time. ("GET READY FOR BED!") The child whose toothbrush is lost and (if by some miracle there IS a child who did what was expected) the child who is ready for bed get out their journals and write or draw about their day depending on the age of the child. ("GET READY FOR BED!") If Mr. Yuke(4) is one of these children, there is a predictable conversation about how our journals are not regular art paper and he needs to just use one page each day and if he wants to do some artwork while we read he needs to get some different paper. When everyone finally comes downstairs truly ready for bed, we are out of time for reading, writing, or singing. The children who didn't get to journal have a hissy fit to which I answer that they chose to use up their time acting like pygmies upstairs. We have a prayer and I send them to bed. And then one or the other of them inevitably asks me with an angel face and puppy dog eyes to "Tuck them in? Please?" (music to my ears) and once again my heart melts and I tuck everyone in (because of course one or the other of us is going to do that every night). And I sit down and sigh at my sweet little people and how much I love them. And then Little Mommy(9) comes out and says that (random body part) hurts. EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. And it's never the same one either. And it's never hurts until it's time to go to sleep. And Mr. Yuke(4) needs a drink. And then The Pinkiest(5) needs one too because it's NOT FAIR if Mr. Yuke(4) gets one and she doesn't. And then Monster Truck(2) doesn't WANT to be in bed and Little Mommy(9) has some other random pain. And she wants to know what exactly is going to be done about it?! And then I tell them that the next person out of bed is going to be dead meat and I better not hear one more peep out of anyone. And then it's quiet.
And then Monster Truck(2) gets out of bed again. For the 27th time.

Last night Husband called during this period of chaos and I really miss him so I kept him on the phone and conversed softly with him while all this was going on. The result was that after a few minutes he said, "It sounds like you have 'Go to bed!' Tourette's. Because of this, I started playing some Christmas music on the piano in an effort to drown them out while I talked to him as the kids were (NOT) getting ready for bed. One of the songbooks I have is a hand-me-down from my mom called "A Peanuts Christmas" (Snoopy). She went through a Peanuts phase in the 70's which she does not remember. Anyway, the book is just basically a bunch of easy Christmas carol arrangements with pictures of Peanuts characters on the tops of the pages. Being the token ready-for-bed-child, The Pinkiest(5) was sitting on the piano bench next to me, listening to the music. I stopped playing after a couple songs and Little Mommy(9) came bolting down the stairs and said, "Mommy, will you please play more Peanuts Christmas Songs?" The Pinkiest(5) got a funny look on her face, pulled her fingers out of her mouth and said, "Penis Christmas Songs?"

"Twinkle, twinkle little star, do you know how loved you are?"

Sweet Potato Queens and Foofs

I love the Sweet Potato Queens. I do. I think Jill Connor Browne is very funny, even though at least half of what she writes is completely inappropriate and not worthy of my time. I am aware of this and I have not read any of her work for several years. Consider her my guilty pleasure- like Superbowl ads, and CNN2 or The Weather Channel are for some other people. In one of her books, Jill talks about how much she loves Deviled Eggs (I know! Eww gross, right?) Anyway, she says she loves to eat them but they are WAY too much of a pain to make "her own self". Her solution to this quandry, is to periodically make the rounds until she can find someone who already has some made up or else will make some for her. It is so lazy and yet, I see the merit of this slacker strategy when I have to, say, change a diaper for the four millionth time in a week or something needs to be ironed. Once upon a time, Little Mommy(9) found this slacker approach particularly satisfying when it came to "Foofs".

"Foof" is the term Little Mommy(9) used (when she was Little Mommy(18m)) for "bubbles". The reference is obvious if you had ever seen her trying to blow bubbles with the little plastic wand from the bottle. She would try over and over again but all she could manage was, "Ffffffff!"- hence, the name. Going "Fffffff!" directed the air from her mouth straight down her chin and almost never resulted in bubbles wafting away on the breeze. She became so frustrated with the whole process that I eventually got out the oscillating fan and showed her how to hold the bubble wand in front of it so that the fan did all the work. The result? A happy 18 month old who requested we play Foofs every single day for nearly three months, and a mom who was not passing out from hyperventilation due to blowing bubbles for 2 straight hours every time, while being pregnant with Bubba(6).

The reason I was reminiscing about Foofs today is that Muhloo(7m) discovered her own version of bubbles this afternoon. She is starting to switch over to baby food and she's pretty excited about it. The trouble is that she also gets bored with the repetitive motions of scoop, open mouth, swallow, repeat. In response to the tedium, today she came up with a way to mix things up a little. She figured out that if she waits to baby-babble right when the spoon is just about to go into her mouth, it blows bubbles in the sweet potatoes and effectively sprays them EVERYWHERE. She wouldn't talk to me when the spoon wasn't at her lips. It was like she was speaking into the microphone. I thought maybe she was not hungry and was therefore more interested in playing with her food than actually eating it. NOT SO. When I tried to gently remove the food items from in front of her, she had a huge fit because she was still hungry, apparently. She just happened to be hungry AND entertaining herself with her lunch at the same time. (Is that a problem?) By the time her interest in eating had dwindled, I had sweet potatoes all over my face, shirt, pants, and hands. Her clothing was remarkably clean, come to think of it. (Maybe I ought to do the rounds and see if someone else in the neighborhood has a hankering for feeding babies?) No, on second thought, I would much rather enjoy this experience "my own self". Getting to be in the stories of The Sweet Bubble Queens and the people who hang around them is so much better than anything Jill Connor Browne has to say. I love being a mom. What more is there?

Photos: "5/19/07 Baby Shower Food" by Nodame; "Untitled" (Bubble Wand) by TeraRoop11; "Deviled Eggs for Easter Dinner" by Tojosan. All photos found on Flickr.com. Incidentally, I had a hard time finding a deviled egg picture that wasn't copyrighted. How weird is that? There were like ten zillion of them but they were all exclusively copyrighted. This is one bizarre cyberworld we live in.

Cuts Above the Rest

Books this year that were a cut above the rest:

1. The OBVIOUS: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (although I thought the Epilogue was stupid.) Forgive me, but I thought the link unnecessary. Everyone in the free world (and probably quite a few in the unfree world too-) knows about the Harry Potter books.


2. The Twilight Series- Juvenille but so enjoyable


3. America the Beautiful- it's a picture book with the words of the song and beautiful watercolors throughout. The cover-art is terrible but don't let it put you off opening it if you ever get the chance.

Blogs this year that were a cut above the rest:

1. The Blog of Unnecessary Quotation Marks- totally funny if you have a fundamental working knowledge of punctuation.


2. The Pokemon Card Lady- I sent a lot of you the link to her post on ebay. Turns out she has a blog which is also pretty funny.

Movies this year that were a cut above the rest:

1. Hairspray- Loved it, can't say enough about it. Way better than the first one (which was ok).


2. Live Free or Die Hard- Surprised? A cut above all the other Die Hards and a very pleasant surprise. Incidentally, if you go to rent it, you will only find the "unrated" edition. This is ok because once you put it in you get to select whether you watch it rated PG-13 or the unrated way.


3. The Lake House- I really liked this one too but it's not one you can scrapbook to. It requires your undivided attention. Also, this is not a good one for watching over and over again.

Events this year that were a cut above the rest:

1. Amish Work Day


2. Husband's promotion


3. Monster Trucks


4. Family Reunion in Milltown

Hairdos this year that were cut above the rest:

(Hear the record scratch?)

Yep. You heard me right. Little Mommy(9) strikes again. In an effort to NOT clean her room, she did any- and every- thing else she could possibly think of instead. When she ran out of ideas she just got "sick of [The Pinkiest's(5) ] bangs hanging down in her eyes" so she HAD to cut them. (Incidentally, it may be relevant to know that The Pinkiest(5) has been growing out her bangs forever. Since the last time they were cut by a not professional.) It's sad really. Her hair was getting so long and pretty that people were starting to comment on it everywhere we went. So now, The Pinkiest(5) has bangs between 3/4 of an inch to one inch long- depending on where you're looking, which start just behind her ear on one side and go to above her temple on the other side. Plus that one other piece. It looks terrible. I'm afraid we're going to have to just cut off the lot of it and start over. At the very least she is going to need a bob. I'm guessing it'll be shorter than that.

My personal feelings about how to handle this situation are that Little Mommy(9) should have to get her hair cut in the same style as The Pinkiest(5). Considering that this is her fifth infraction with a pair of scissors and "hair" of some variety, I think it only fitting. I'm willing to give her the first three which happened between the ages of 2 and 4, but the most recent one was last year and well- to me, the fact that she is now 9 makes this pretty inexcuseable. (By the way, the reason "hair" is in quotation marks is because one incident involved several victims from Mother-in-Law's doll collection, most of which have yarn for hair. Or used to.) Now, last year when she cut her own hair to the scalp in a three inch square patch, I told her she was going to have to get it cut short like a boy while it was growing out. I would put mousse in it and make it curly and we could tie ribbons around her head and maybe it would still look really cute. The workers at the Beauty Shop however, all thought this was cruel and talked me out of it. I think now the time has come because I, like Gracie Lou Freebush, believe in harsher punishments for parole violators. What do you think?

The good news is that The Pinkiest's(5) hair won't be a total waste. *Shelbie needs a wig and I heard her family is collecting hair donations. Since The Pinkiest(5) and Shelbie are both blondies and The Pinkiest's(5) hair is so long, hopefully they will be able to use her hair to help. (See below for info on Shelbie.)

The only other cut I want to mention in this post is the one on my self. It has been put above the rest as well. Above the laundry, the cooking, the hair fixing, the bathroom cleaning. (DANG! Maybe I don't want to get better.... No, wait. I guess I do.) Anyway, this week, I got to cut down to having PT ONLY TWICE A WEEK!!!! This is very exciting news. I played some Clementi on Tuesday, and it was not horrible. And also, I am typing like a real person right this very minute.- Only it hurts more. So today I looked around and realized that it was time to stop putting my cut above the rest. I did a load of dishes (turns out- that is still pretty challenging. I can't grasp things very well.), cleaned a toilet, walked Mr. Yuke(4!) to preschool while pushing the stroller and everything, and then sat down to blog. Because let me tell you- when you've put your cut above the rest for a month and a half, there is a ton of crap to do and I have no idea where to even start- so I'd rather just blog about it instead. And there is no rest when there is a cut. I guess I'd prefer it this way though. I've had about enough of resting for a while.

*Shelbie is an amazing little girl who is 9 years old. A while back she was diagnosed with a brain tumor. They did a surgery where they went in through her eye and removed it. The biopsy came back as cancerous. Later they removed a second tumor. They thought she was in remission at that point. However, just recently they discovered a new tumor on her brainstem that is inoperable. Because of this, Shelbie has started an 18-month course of chemotherapy which I think is going to be either followed by or overlapped with radiation treatments.

Shelbie's lifelong dream is to be a cheerleader. Specifically, she wants to cheer with the 49'ers cheerleaders at one of their games. I wonder how many degrees of separation there are between me and someone who could make that happen?

Through everything, she has remained positive and sweet. All this is remarkable, but the real reason Shelbie is remarkable is that she has attended Church and Primary/Activity Days as often as possible for the last year without her parents. She gets rides with neighbors or the Primary presidency. She is an amazing example and a wonderful missionary. Visit her website. Sometimes there are pictures, although there aren't any right now.