McMama's Musings

Book Review - My Life Map by Kate & David Marshall

2012-11-15T17:21:00.002-08:00

My Life Map: A Journal to Help You Shape Your Future by Kate Marshall
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

"Our job in life is not so much to find ourselves as it is to create ourselves." ~My Life Map

The same is true of this book. You don't read it, but you create it, and with it yourself, and your life.

"My Life Map" divides your life into manageable chunks - subjects (family, work, play), ten-year map, whole-life map, and more - and each section contains excellent quotes and prompts to help you consider your life - as you have lived it, as you are living it, and as you may live it in the future. There are even spare copies of each map in the back of the book and online so that you don't have to feel tied down by your map, your plan. Instead, you can dream and explore and create, and then change your mind a million times, if you so desire.

I didn't DO this entire book before reviewing it; I felt it deserved more consideration than the few weeks it was in my possession. I did read through and consider how I might respond to each prompt, each example, each beautiful quote, and each suggestion. And I can tell you - I am excited to map my life.

I'm the sort of person who loves to make plans and to document my life - New Year's Resolutions, 101 things in 101 days, Project 365, my blog, and so forth. But I tend not to follow through. Either my plans falter a few months in, or life gets busy, or my priorities change. But "My Life Map" understands. "You will not be a failure if what you write in this book does not come true," it says. And I breathed a sigh of relief upon reading it. I imagine revisiting old versions of my life maps will be like opening a time capsule to the things that seemed important to me when I created them.

When all is said and done, if you complete the Whole Life Map (which is the entire point, really), you will have a one-page overview of your past, present and future, split into chapters you've named for their main idea, divided into life sections, and progressing with purpose, even if it is retrospective. You'll have found a Mission and Vision for your life, made yourself goals to help you live up to your own standards. You'll have a clear view of the path behind you and a clear idea of what to do to carve out the path ahead. I can't wait.

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This is a compensated review by the BlogHer Book Club, but all opinions expressed are my own.

Book Review - Diary of a Submissive by Sophie Morgan

2012-10-18T07:05:00.000-07:00

Diary of a Submissive: A Modern True Tale of Sexual Awakening by Sophie Morgan
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Three-and-a-half stars might be more appropriate, but it wasn't an option. ;)

Since Fifty Shades of Grey began the mainstream pseudo-kink craze, I've kind of shied away from it all. I disliked the concept of "mommy porn," the way non-vanilla sex was stigmatized, and what can I say, I'm a little bit of a hipster when it comes to staying off the beaten path.

But when the opportunity to review Diary of a Submissive, an ostensibly true story, and clearly a response to Fifty, landed in my inbox, I couldn't resist. In many ways, I was not disappointed. In other ways, I was let down.

Far and away the most refreshing thing about Diary of a Submissive is the author's ability to, well, write. She's a journalist by trade, and I laughed in delight when I read, "I decided quickly that committing crimes against grammar was a hard limit for me."

The other big positive to Diary, as compared not only to Fifty, but also to the seeming opinion of the mainstream world, is that the pseudonymous Morgan quickly dispels the myth hat only people with some sort of trauma in their pasts could be interested in kinky sex. She describes her simple life that is very much like yours and mine - except that she's a self-described masochist who gets off on physical pain and humiliation, when they're meted out by someone whose judgement she trusts, who has her best interests at heart.

The big letdown of Diary was the quick and dirty finish. In what seems like the midst of the story, suddenly it's over, and you're left unsure what even just happened. I guess real life doesn't have tidy endings.

EDIT: I've read on Sophie's twitter and interviews that there is a sequel coming soon. Hopefully that will relieve my angst at the ending.

This is a compensated review commissioned by the BlogHer Book Club. All opinions expressed are my own.

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Jude

2012-08-30T11:58:00.001-07:00

Jude woke up twice last night, crying pitifully about a headache. After the second time, I pulled him into our bed, wrapped my arms around him, and kissed his head until he fell back asleep. As I lay there with his little arms clinging to me, I thought about how fast he's going to grow up. I thought about how awesome he is right now, and how I'm probably going to forget it all in the coming years, since I've sucked at blogging lately.

Jude... He's almost 5 now. He is athletic - tall and lanky, and busy busy busy. He loves to run, jump, somersault, and flip. He was running in a slalom pattern today, side to side while moving forward. It was pretty amazing, coordination-wise. When he does fall down, he's quick to jump up and say "I'm ok!" If he's ever not ok, kisses (especially from mom) are still the perfect remedy.

He's pretty much the sweetest person I've ever known. And probably Quentin was sweet when he was this age, too, and I've forgotten it because he's almost 8 now. But I can go back and read about it in my blog. Jude tells me at least a half-dozen unprompted times every day that he loves me. Often, he'll holler it across the house out of the blue. "I love you, Mom!" - and the way he speaks is slightly accented, as though he were from a different part of the country. His Os are very round and true, rather than pretend a's, like most midwesterners.

Sometimes I tell him that he makes my heart happy. Lately, he's taken to asking me if whatever he has said or done made my heart smile. "Always," I reply, "you always make my heart smile."

He gives me leaves that are shaped like hearts. He holds my hand. He always wants to give hugs and kisses, to me, to his dad, to his big brother. His skin is so baby-soft. His eyes are the clearest, most innocent blue. Right now, his hair is long and shaggy, and his bangs are pink because "I want my hair to be like yours, Mommy!" I ask him if he's a momma's boy, and he says, "Yep, I'm your boy!"

Jude can't wait for Kindergarten. He's so sad not to be going this year (and I am too, I think he'd be a perfect fit with the other K'ers). We walk his brother to and from school every day, and every day, he asks me if he's going to Kindergarten yet. He thinks that he gets to go as soon as he turns 5, and I'm thinking it's going to be a really sad day when he figures out that that's not how it works.

Jude loves to do whatever his big brother does. He's been asking to do worksheets lately, since his brother brings them home from school. He enjoys video games (Minecraft, Portal, Garry's Mod, Angry Birds, Plants vs Zombies). He can read. He's starting to get better at playing by himself, and sometimes he'll build elaborate scenarios with cars and trains and blocks.

He's a little feisty, still. Adventurous, too! He ate a cinnamon worm thing at the Xtreme bugs exhibit at the zoo. He's not always great at keeping his emotions in check (he's 4!), and sometimes he'll throw things, hit, scratch, or bite - especially his brother. But he's so quick with a hug and an apology. He's definitely hard to stay angry at, hard to resist.

I'm pretty sure we'd have a dog already if we were allowed them here, because Jude LOVES dogs (puppies!) and when you pair that with his charming, irresistible demeanor, well, it's a dangerous combination.

I wish I could hold on to these moments forever. I wish I could actually preserve the feeling of his sweet, soft, and delicate hand in mine, his gentle little lips kissing my face, his thin yet strong for his age arms encircling my neck. Oh gosh, is he ever an excellent hugger!

Sometimes I wish my baby could stay 4.5 forever. I know he'll grow up and be an amazing person, but there is just nothing quite like this little momma's boy, who loves me infinitely and unconditionally, and shows me in all of his ways, every day.

But since I can't keep him this way forever, I'll take lots of pictures, and write this blog post, and come back and cry when he's a teenager. <3

I like being unusual

2012-06-16T12:51:00.002-07:00

I'm attending an intensive, week-long leadership conference next month, and as part of the training, we'll be studying up on the Meyers-Briggs personality typing system. The folks running the conference have sent out an official Meyers-Briggs test to all attendees, so that we can talk about our own types during the conference.

I'll admit it, I'm a little nervous.

I've never taken the official test before, but I have taken several adapted versions online, and though I've changed a lot over the past 10 years, my type according to these non-official tests has not. I'm INFJ.

INFJ is the rarest of the 16 possible personality types, and that's just the way I like it. On average, 1.5% of the population contains this unusual mix of introversion, intuition, feeling, and judgment. So when you tell me that no, I'm not special, I can say, "Screw you, I so totally am."

My concern here is that the official test will yield a different result. Other than the Introversion/Extraversion category, where I fall solidly into the camp of the former, I tend to hover somewhere around the middle. The results of one online test were thus:

Introverted (I) 60% Extroverted (E) 40%
Intuitive (N) 51.22% Sensing (S) 48.78%
Feeling (F) 58.82% Thinking (T) 41.18%
Judging (J) 53.85% Perceiving (P) 46.15%

Will I still be special if I come out as an ISTP? Probably, but it's just not as cool. I'll let you know how it goes. :)

Book Review - Fifty Shades of Grey by E. L. James

2012-04-24T19:28:00.000-07:00

Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

If you're following me on Goodreads, you know I have a newfound mantra not to finish crappy books just for the sake of finishing them. Well, I finished this book (and the others in the series), and the writing sucks. It is painfully obvious that this began as fanfiction and had little in the way of professional editing.

This is not your mother's romance novel. Unless you're under 18, in which case, buzz off (for this particular post. The rest are great birth control).

When I think of romance novels, I think of quaint victorianism and words like heaving bosom, corset, and manhood. Fifty Shades of Grey has its own special oft-repeated words, of course, but they tend toward the poorly-written rather than the adorable. Think, apex, sex-as-a-noun, flush, and behind. Oh, and words like, dominant, submissive, and flogger. Readers have been known to require Google assistance to define some of the terms found in this book, but it's best to keep safe search on and don't search at work. 'Nuff said?

Now that I have your attention, let me mention that this book is also not your typical whips-and-chains erotica. No, it walks a fine line between these genres, and while FSOG does have its very own almost-but-not-quite-completely-lacking-a-personality heroine, it also has one character who is quite well, um, fleshed out.

Ana Steele is everything a romance novel's heroine should be: unknowingly gorgeous, barely-legal, virginal, and naive. When the series begins, she is clumsy and awkward, but somehow a feast of mind-blowing sex three times daily leaves her a smoldering temptress before long. That's... about as much character development as we get for Ana.

Christian Grey, on the other hand, experiences a lot of growth (heh), though it's mostly from one stereotype to another. He begins the series dark and broken - fifty shades of fucked up, if you will. He's into "kinky fuckery" due to a horrific childhood, and he struggles his way into becoming a strong-but loving personality who is exasperatingly-overbearing-in-a-kind-of-sweet-way and also hellfire in the bedroom.

Though the novel's plot starts out as weak and wibbly as any romance novel, it quickly escalates to kinky, hardcore erotica before fizzing down into the glowing embers of something resembling a real-life relationship. An olympic amount of kinky sex is thrown in to keep things interesting, and overall the book reads like its humble beginnings - poorly-written fan fiction with rebranded characters.

I'm not sure why the media is calling this "mommy porn," since the protagonist is a young and breathless college graduate. Unless maybe the media expects moms to need vicarious kinky sex, while non-moms are presumed to be able to have their own fun.

If you're squeamish or overly moral (in sex or in writing), you probably won't much enjoy 50SG, as it's lovingly called by fans.

I enjoyed it plenty, though I think I'd enjoy perusing it with my red pen almost as much.

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Book Review - Shadow Puppets by Orson Scott Card

2012-03-31T11:07:00.000-07:00

Shadow Puppets by Orson Scott Card
My rating: 1 of 5 stars

I used to be the sort of person who prided herself on not quitting a book. Much as I flit from one project to another, leaving things unfinished, books and movies deserved my full efforts, no matter how abysmal they might seem in the beginning.

Thanks to a run of bad novels, I've changed my mind. Life is too short to finish a book that doesn't grip you. It's definitely too short to finish a book that makes you roll your eyes, chapter after chapter.

I trudged through the first hour or two of this audiobook with little interest. A rambling quasi-love story, it kept my mind busy while I did my duties as domestic engineer. However, I rarely thought about the story after I'd put it away, and it didn't draw me back in, enticing me to do my chores the way pretty much all of OSC's other books have done. This should have been my first clue that it wasn't worth it.

Then came the preaching.

Orson Scott Card, of whose religious and political beliefs I was blissfully unaware until after my first reading of the original Ender saga, claims not to preach through his fiction, unless he says he is (as in the Alvin Maker series, which is based loosely on the life of Joseph Smith). I could give him the benefit of the doubt, but that would just mean he is painfully unobservant of the underlying messages in his own writing.

From a diatribe against gay marriage (the character given this not-so-subtle soliloquy decides that, even though he's gay, he'll marry a single mother and use his pension to support them. Seriously.) to anti-abortion rhetoric that is pounded like a nail again and again, I just couldn't stomach it anymore.

So I've given up. I've got a to-read list a mile, long, and I'm sure most of it deserves more attention than this drivel.

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Book Review - Seventh Son by Orson Scott Card

2012-03-27T13:23:00.000-07:00

Seventh Son by Orson Scott Card
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

No matter my thoughts about his politics, I just can't quit Orson Scott Card. I refuse to pick up his books in paper (or e-paper) form, and insist on listening to them read aloud, usually by voices I've come to know and love through repeated listenings of the Ender Saga. Since Card claims he writes with this in mind, I figure it increases the authenticity of the tale. Besides, it stops me from noticing typos and bad editing, which always pull me from a story.

I know that the Alvin Maker saga is meant to be loosely based on the life of Joseph Smith, the founder of the Mormon religion. I can't decide if it's better or worse for me that I don't know the details of LDS history. Better, probably, because I'm not constantly analyzing the plot, trying to spot the preaching (which I do with the latter Ender books, and it always tarnishes them a little for me). Though I wonder what lovely allegories I am missing. Though not a Christian, I'm always interested in the Christian allegories I find in popular literature. So maybe they're worse for it.

Maybe it's better just to take the book as it is, a tale like so many of Card's, of a bright young boy with a fantastic talent and too much responsibility for his age. The setting of 18th century colonial America almost doesn't matter to the plot. Sure, there is a certain amount of naming convention (with kids named Vigor, Measure, Waste-Not and Want-Not, and so on) and religious fervor only rivaled by today's neo-conservatives, but really, again as most of Card's work, this is a story not about place, but about people.

I'm hoping the series will hold me over until the release of the next Mithermages and Pathfinder books. It kept me engaged, made the time slip away while I worked on my own household chores, and left me eager to borrow the next book in the series from my library's digital library. Really, what more can you ask for?

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Simple moments

2012-03-21T16:33:00.001-07:00

I always hear people say (in movies or books, at least), "We were so happy then, and we didn't even know it."

Well, I know it.

This evening, I cooked dinner with the a/c off and the doors and windows open to the fresh air, nevermind the 80º+ temperature. When Luke came home, he chopped veggies to complete our meal and we took our plates outside. The kids rinsed the sand off of their hands in the cold spigot water and we ate, blissful in the (slightly) cooling evening, the sunset in our eyes.

When dinner was finished, Luke and I took care of the dishes, then he pushed Jude on the swing while Quentin alternated between a swing and the sandbox. I watched them while I took the clothes off the line, breathing in their smell of grass and sunshine. Quentin helped with some of the towels, and then the laundry was all folded and ready to carry in.

I walked past my husband, still pushing Jude, and kissed him, completely and utterly aware of the bliss of these simple moments. Sometimes, life is so good I just can't even believe it.

Cosmic Two-by-Four

2012-02-29T07:38:00.000-08:00

Do you ever just feel like the Universe is yelling at you? Wielding that cosmic 2x4 and bashing you ever-so-gently over the head with it?

This all sounds so horrible and violent, but it's not, really. I just feel like this is not a nudge or a whisper but a full-on "UM, HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME, BECAUSE I'M NOT SURE THE CONNECTION IS SO GOOD."

I seem to have fallen into something lately, this very Zen, "life is good and love it and live it and suck the marrow out and burn burn burn and you are exactly who and where you need to be" place. I have found the most wonderful church home, and it is becoming, for me, a spiritual home, a place where I pour out my goodness and light and meager talents, and get back gratitude, results, and more light. When I'm not there, I feel like I should be. I wait all week for the chance to sing songs that make me happy, sit in silence for three minutes, and be inspired by people who love as hugely as I do.

I keep coming across books and blogs on this concept I can't really explain in a word or two. It's about contentment, but it's so much bigger than that. It's about not just having enough but feeling that you are enough, about BEING enough. It's about joy and peace and LIFE. Ironically, two of the blogs I randomly stumbled upon, which were filled with this beauty, were written by women with aggressive cancer. Hopefully that is not also a message. Or maybe it IS, a message of transience, a reminder that this life, that tomorrow, is not guaranteed to any of us.

I feel so FULL. Some days are good and some days are bad, but every day I am full of joy and wonder and hope and love. This is the kind of cosmic 2x4 you build a home with.

Book Review - Hand Wash Cold by Karen Maezen Miller

2012-02-22T13:25:00.000-08:00

Hand Wash Cold: Care Instructions for an Ordinary Life by Karen Maezen Miller
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I read this entire book in two sittings separated only by dinner with my family. I have thirteen pages of highlighted passages in my notes section. Suffice to say, it was invigorating and inspiring. I highly recommend you go pick it up right now.

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One for the books

2012-01-20T11:56:00.000-08:00

I have had some trouble getting motivated today. The Internet has, as it will, sucked me in. Finally, after lunch, I got to work cleaning the kitchen.

When I checked the mail, though, there was a copy of Newsweek with this very informative article explaining the truth of the Obama administration.

So I was sitting on the couch, reading (instead of listening to an audiobook like I usually would be while cleaning) when I overheard this heart-wrenching conversation between Quentin (7) and Jude (4), who are playing together in the bath.

Q: "Jude, I love you."
J: "Aw, but sometimes you get mad at me."
Q: "Yeah, but I always, ALWAYS love you… Do you always love me, even if you feel like you hate me sometimes?"
J: "...yeah"

AND THEN MY HEART EXPLODED.

Giving up caffeine (alternately titled: I am an idiot)

2012-01-17T11:43:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago, I noticed a disturbing trend in my energy levels. Namely, they were declining quickly, especially on days which were totally coffee-missing, and they weren't nearly so high on caffeinated days as would previously have been the case.

But not to worry! I had a brilliant plan to remedy the situation: I would stop drinking coffee.

I'll let that sink in a minute.

So yeah, I had a couple of really hellish weeks, in which I was excessively touchy, crabby, yelly, and desperate. Then one day last week, I was super-busy and decided it called for one single serving of coffee. That day, I DID ALL THE THINGS, and it was amazing.

Thus, the good news was revealed to me. It was thus: drink your stinking coffee, woman.

How can I argue with that?

Headlines are the editor's job (and I don't have one)

2012-01-10T07:01:00.000-08:00

Every year about this time, it seems, a sort of desperation comes over me. I begin to feel the strain of being the primary caretaker of my children, in a certain environment. I'm responsible for their wellbeing, their education, handling Quentin's special needs, and all without the support of family and community, without much opportunity to focus on myself or recharge. My husband is amazing, but he works 40 hours a week, and has limited reserves of his own.

I know that all parents deal with this, to a degree. Those who send their kids to school and those who don't, those who work at home (for pay or not) or those who work away, those who have one child and those who have ten. But this is my story and my struggle. I'm not interested in competitions about whose life is harder, I just need safe space to purge my thoughts and emotions.

I feel like I struggle with this at least once a year, but this year is different, because I know that Quentin requires special services which I cannot provide for him. If he's to have the therapies recommended by the psychologist who diagnosed him, we'll have to enlist professionals, at our own cost. And Quentin seems to be struggling more and more the older he gets. Perhaps it's because he's aging, his cognitive abilities are increasing, but his coping skills are not. While a 4 year old with the coping skills of a 2 year old might not seem that odd or unexpected, a 7 year old with those same coping skills becomes harder to deal with as a parent. I can TELL that he needs more help. I KNOW that he needs someone who is trained to give him the tools he needs to handle life. Sometimes I wish I had someone to do that for me.

So yet again, around and around in my head spin thoughts of school. These days I am furious that our society operates in such a way that in order not to have to pay out of pocket for the services Quentin requires, I would have to send him to an institution whose values I strongly disagree with. The values public schools seek to instill in our children are not the ones I want my children to have. The force-feeding of arbitrary ideas and facts that some higher political power has deemed appropriate (and which, if learned at all, are likely to be promptly forgotten) is not my idea of learning. I feel all but certain that it would serve to suck the joy of curiosity out of BOTH of my children. Even more important are our feelings about time well-spent, togetherness, and family.

And yet. I find myself waking each day feeling less and less able to cope with the ever increasing demands of parenting my high-needs son. He has always been high-needs, and maybe the cumulative effect, combined with worsening symptoms is more than I can bear without more support. But I don't know what to do. Short of winning the lottery or ever-increasing medical debt, I don't know how to get Quentin the therapies that would help him, unless we send him to a public school, which is mandated by the state to provide him the services he requires. And who knows? Maybe because of his diagnosis and because of those extra assistances in place, school would be different for him than I've always feared. But I can't let go of the eight-plus years of self-conditioning that public schools are not what I want for my children.

Maybe this is just another annual phase. I seem to cycle yearly through this feeling of not being able to cope any longer, of hopelessness and isolation, of breakdown, but by the time the light returns in earnest, the days lengthening and the air warming, I usually begin to feel myself again. I start to feel like I can do it, like I can cope, like there is hope for us all yet.

Happy New Year

2011-12-31T12:33:00.000-08:00

I've been spending way too much time online this week. The reasons for this are myriad (my house is suffering PCDD - post christmas disorder disorder (What? It's a working title.), I've discovered Pinterest (cool things I've actually been doing!) and re-discovered Facebook (amazing friends)), but the upshot is that on this last day of 2011, I've seen more mentions of the ubiquitous New Year's Resolution Guide than I can count.

Tomorrow is just another day, one of the 30,000 or so I might get out of this life. But even though, practically speaking, it has no special meaning (after all, the Solstice is our real new year celebration), I'm hoping it will mark the beginning of a year filled with good things. In this spirit, I tried to think of some of my own resolutions, to help it along.

What do I want for 2012? Well, I'd like it to not suck as much as 2011 did. But that's not really a "resolution," is it?

Then, as I was reading this awesome post about how resolutions are often only bandaids over the expression of our deeper unhappiness, it dawned on me.

I'm happy.

I'm not crazy giddy or anything. I'm just sort of... Content. Sure, there are things about myself and my life I'd like to change (get rich, lose weight, make friends, blahblahblah), but hell, if life was perfect, it would be really boring. Sure, 2011 sucked in more ways than I can count, but there were a few bright spots. Despite the suckitude (you're welcome, Becky) of the past year, I've found contentment because of an amazing family, wonderful friends, a spiritual home, and an heretofore alien feeling of self-confidence.

Yes, I'm shoving 2011 out the door with a kick in the pants. But I am welcoming 2012 with a sense of hope and the knowledge that, even if by some fluke the events of next year suck as much as those of the last, I can still find it in myself to be happy.

Love. Peace. Laughter. Hope. These are the gifts of happiness I wish for myself (and for you!) in 2012.

Happy New Year.

Coping with Asperger's

2011-12-06T16:04:00.001-08:00

What it's like to raise a kid with autism is just as hard to pin down as what it's like to raise a kid, period. The Autism Spectrum is deep and wide, and no two kids on the spectrum are going to exhibit the same set of strengths, deficits, and behaviors.

Quentin's particular version of autism is called Asperger Syndrome, sometimes called Asperger's or just AS. It's generally referred to as a "mild" form of autism, and while people with AS are far more likely to grow up to live and work independently, very little feels "mild" about life with an AS kid.

The official diagnostic report we received from the psychology practice that evaluated him (using the Vineland Adaptive Behavior Scales and Differential Abilities Scale, in addition to observation and parental survey) listed a wide range of strengths and weaknesses. What struck me the most, though, and indeed what makes the Asperger's diagnosis appropriate for Quentin, was his "socialization" (social abilities) score. This was broken down into three sections - interpersonal relationships, play and leisure time, and coping skills. I'm not sure what "play and leisure time" evaluated, exactly, but the other two seem fairly obvious. These were scored using an age equivalency (evaluated level is appropriate for a child of a certain age), and Quentin's scores were 2 years 11 months, 3 years 1 month, and 1 year 10 months, respectively. My 7-year-old's coping skills are at a level below age 2. Consider also that his receptive communications abilities fall in the 3.5 year old range.

All of this would be hard to deal with no matter what. What makes it extra difficult for me to deal with is that his cognitive abilities are significantly above average. Except for his spatial skills (which I'm not even sure about because he's usually quite good with that sort of thing), he scored in the 90+ percentile in every cognitive category. Another thing about AS is the "little professor," pedantic nature of speech.

When Quentin acts out, I often think (and sometimes say, to my chagrin), "Come on, kid, act your age!" While that might be a fitting enough response for a neurotypical child, it's completely unfair to Quentin. He is acting his emotional age. But it's hard for me to remember that he's got the coping skills of a 2-year-old when he's doing math like he's 12 and talking like he's 40.

And of course, I worry too much about what other people think. I don't know what it is with our culture, why children are loathed instead of valued, but people don't like kids. At least not kids who act like kids. It's ok for them to be well-behaved, walking-talking dolls, sure. But it's not ok for them to explore their world, push the limits of their understanding (and their parents' patience), lose control of their emotions, or, well, be kids.

Now try imagining a 7-year-old throwing a tantrum like a 2-year-old in a public place. What do you think the bystanders are thinking? "Jeez, lady, control your kid!" "That kid's parents are sure doing something wrong." "MY child would never act that way!" "That boy needs a good swift kick in the behind!" and so on. And since I'm blessed with many childfree friends (whom I love and adore), and spend a lot of time on the Internet with less articulate childfree people, I frequently hear about strangers' misbehaving kids. Those voices are always in the back of my head when MY kid is the one misbehaving. Even when I'm at home.

"What would people think of me if they saw my kid acting this way?" "What ARE people thinking of me because my kid is tantruming in a store?" "Kids should mind their elders, by god!" and so on. I have a constant, niggling voice that I just cannot silence with rationality.

I was raised to believe these things, too. Kids should shut up and do what they're told. Don't ask questions. If an adult hollers your name across the house, "Don't say 'what?' come running!" Respect for adults/elders/authority is ingrained in me more deeply than just about any other value, to such a degree that I'm not even sure I should want it out. I feel like my kids SHOULD respect their elders. But I also feel like I need to respect my children as human beings.

And that means meeting them where they are. That means understanding that my son has a neurological impairment that causes him to function emotionally like a 3 year old, causes him to cope with difficulties like a 2-year-old. But when I'm looking at a 7-year-old who thinks like a 12-year-old and talk like a 40-year-old, I struggle to reconcile it all in my head. He's a smart kid, shouldn't he be able to figure this out logically? Should he be able to remember the things I've tried to teach him? Maybe. Probably not?

But what I KNOW sitting here typing this entry, and what I can remember and DO when I'm upset because I'm being ignored yet again, because there's yet another fit of whining or public tantrum, are two different things. Maybe I'M the one with the lack of coping skills.

Book Review - Pathfinder by Orson Scott Card

2011-11-19T14:43:00.001-08:00

Pathfinder by Orson Scott Card
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

As seems typical of Card (at least lately), this book is almost more fantasy than science fiction, at least in the beginning. As the story progresses, we see more and more of the sci-fi aspect and the fantasy elements take on a different perspective.

I have yet to "pick up" a Card "book" that I wasn't immediately engaged in, which didn't keep me cleaning my house long after my feet were sore (I only listen to audio versions, and I listen only while cleaning - keeps me motivated). Pathfinder was no different. Rigg's gift, his relationship with his father, and their relationship to the land drew me in quickly, and I was eager to see where it all led.

As the story progressed, new characters were added with rapidity, yet enough was told about each to allow you to connect with them. Never did I feel I learned too much about a character, nor that Card shouldn't have bothered with one at all for what little they added to the story.

By the time the book ends, you care about every one of the characters, and if you've been paying close attention, you have figured out where it's all going. Still it is a relief to actually get there, to hear what resolution there is, and then to read the Acknowledgement section and find out that yes, you did understand it correctly after all.

I'm looking forward to the next book, and hearing what the remaining characters do with their discoveries.

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Book Review - Theodora: Actress, Empress, Whore by Stella Duffy

2011-11-03T08:51:00.001-07:00

Theodora: Actress, Empress, Whore by Stella Duffy
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

An engaging piece of historical fiction, Theodora: Actress, Empress, Whore took about 50 pages to get going. But once I crested that hill, I kept coming back for more.

Theodora's mother never wanted her to enter the entertainment world, but after her father was brutally murdered, there was little choice if the family was to survive. And like her mother Hypatia, Theodora is nothing if not a survivor. Her talent for dance is only average, but her penchant for comedy launches Theodora into a spotlight career that takes her from brother back rooms to faraway lands, on a religious pilgrimage, and home again to become the Empress of the entire Byzantine Empire.

Duffy's fictional tale, which undoubtedly takes many liberties with the deeper aspects of Theodora's life, touches on many aspects of the sixth century, from politics to religion (which were deeply intertwined), and the acceptable roles of women.

Though Theodora's exploits fascinated me (I loved the bit where she takes up spinning - I myself have started recently to spin!), I was particularly touched by Duffy's commentary on the nature of relationships, from family and friends to God and spouse. These are skillfully woven and absolutely believable - not least because they touch a chord of recognition in me at some of my own experiences.

At 300+ pages, Theodora is definitely worth every minute.

This is a compensated review for the BlogHer book club, but the opinions expressed are solely my own.

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Book Review - The Orchard, A Memoir by Theresa Weir

2011-09-09T15:54:00.000-07:00

The Orchard: A Memoir by Theresa Weir

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I requested this book for review with a number of YA books, and so when it came to me, I began reading it expecting that genre. It's not.

The Orchard is (as the title suggests) a memoir, telling the story of a country girl with a rough past building an unlikely life. It reads like a novel, which is in its favor, though I wondered sometimes how fictionalized a variety of scenes may have been. I guess that's probably true of any memoir. You have to flesh out the skeleton of memory to make it more interesting.

I found The Orchard to be mildly interesting, but not particularly compelling. It starts slow, but does build steam and eventually come to the point where you want to know what is going to happen, whether the protagonists will break away from the prison of sorts that has been fashioned for them.

The thing about this book is that I feel like I should have enjoyed it more than I did. I really relate to the protagonist in many ways, and yet I felt detached from her (I don't think she ever mentions her own name in this book, not even in dialogue). Her decisions often made little sense to me, and I found myself often rolling my eyes or saying, "I told you so."

I don't feel as though I wasted the hours of my life I spent reading this book, but it wasn't anything particularly special, either.

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Brain Tests

2011-09-02T06:02:00.000-07:00

If you've read about Quentin here, you know he's a different sort of kid.

He's ridiculously smart, talkative, and engaging. He's also fairly socially inept, extremely sensitive both physically and emotionally, and has some odd speech patterns.

This has finally become enough of an issue that we decided to have him evaluated by a psychologist and a neurologist. After initial consultations, the psychologist agreed that a comprehensive eval is a good idea, and the neurologist wants to run an EEG and MRI to rule out physical defects. If the physical defects are ruled out, he says he will step out of the picture and that we've got a good plan so far.

So in two weeks, my baby's going to get hooked up to a variety of brain testing machinery. I think the EEG will actually be pretty cool (minus the sleep-depravation that's required beforehand), low on the stress-scale. The MRI makes me a little nervous just because he has to have an IV and be under sedation. I hate IVs, and I'm sure he won't be very thrilled about it either. In the end, though, I think he will be fascinated to have pictures of his brain!

I'm hoping both of these tests come back relatively normal and we can proceed with whatever therapies the psychologist recommends (speech, occupational, social groups, etc) to help him better adapt.

I don't want to change who my son is. I don't want to give him drugs and make him compliant and "normal." I do want him to have the opportunity to relate to other kids and make friends as he so desires, to communicate effectively, and to do whatever is in his heart to do. I want to give him the tools to be successful in whatever way he wants to be.

First step is an EEG, on the 14th, and the MRI is on the 16th. Hold your breath with me.

Book Review - The Kid by Sapphire

2011-08-12T09:04:00.000-07:00

The Kid by Sapphire

My rating: 1 of 5 stars

It is rare for me not to finish a book. Even when reading books I don't like, I will usually push through just to find out what happens and say I've read it. But if I hadn't been obligated to finish this book, I'd have put Sapphire's The Kid down after 50 pages and never looked back.

Read the rest of my review and find out why at the BlogHer Book Club.

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Book Review - The Death of Joan of Arc by Michael Scott

2011-08-11T16:20:00.001-07:00

The Death of Joan of Arc by Michael Scott

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This quick and dirty short story fills in one of the more intriguing gaps from The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel. It tells the story of how Scáthach, The Shadow, saves her dear friend Joan of Arc from death by pyre (though everyone thinks she was truly burned at the stake. It's short and sweet, a little morsel to tide you over until the final book in the series is released.

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Book Review - Ashes, by Ilsa J. Bick

2011-08-09T19:33:00.000-07:00

Ashes by Ilsa J. Bick

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Alex is a seventeen-year-old girl with enough problems - dead parents, an inoperable brain tumor, and few happy memories - that the end of the world might well seem like welcome respite. But after the EMP leaves the world without electricity and electronic devices, leaves Alex stranded on a fictional Michigan mountain with winter just around the corner, she finds herself fighting to live (along with her survival mates and makeshift family) after all.

I really enjoyed this book, pushed through its 450+ pages in about a week, with a busy family event taking up my weekend. The nature of the dystopia - a warfare-based EMP pulse causing technological and nuclear meltdown, the death of an entire generation and a terrifying Change in another - seemed plausible enough to give me the creepy-crawlies. Alex and her fellow survivors all seemed very real to me, their personalities broad and complex, not overly simplified and stereotypical as so often happens in young adult fiction.

Ashes (both a title and a theme which is mentioned *almost* too many times in the first hundred or so pages), is already split into three sections, but it could almost be two separate books. There is a major shift about halfway through and the plot changes so drastically that I can't even really discuss it without giving away the first half. I will say that there seems to be some sort of deeper plan in that second half that evaded me. I'm hoping it's made clear in the second book of the trilogy.

I'm actually a little disappointed that I came across this book before its publication, because that means I'll be waiting even longer for the next one to be released. The cliffhanger ending of Ashes definitely has me already eager for Shadows. Well, maybe I'll get access to that one early, too.

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Book Review - Throne of Fire by Rick Riordan

2011-07-30T14:05:00.000-07:00

Throne of Fire by Rick Riordan

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This series is just so much fun. Tons of great info about Egyptology, treatment of minor gods and goddesses along with the major ones, and strong male and female lead characters who work best in cooperation with each other. Having just read the first 39 clues book (also a brother-sister duo), I found this to be far more engaging and well-written. I'm definitely looking forward to the conclusion of this series!

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Postpartum Shred Day ???

2011-07-02T08:39:00.000-07:00

6 weeks 5 days

Well that didn't take long.

I do so suck at self-motivation, and the pain that is left in the wake of the first two days of the Shred is no help. Friday, after two days of Shredding, I could barely move. Sitting down and standing up brought tears to my eyes because HOLY COW my quadriceps! And hamstrings. My chest, in addition to the pain of engorgement from lactating, had pain in my pecs, and other random muscles I didn't know existed there.

I actually forgot about working out until I'd been up for half an hour, and when I remembered, my face fell in comic fashion. I thought I'd do it "later" but of course, we know that doesn't happen.

I woke this morning knowing that I should do it now, catch up, give myself that rest day yesterday and jump back on the horse. But I was so hungry. So I ate breakfast and now, here I stand, knowing I'll puke if I work out now, also knowing that if I don't do it now, it's not going to get done and the pattern will continue.

I really don't know how to motivate myself. I'd planned on a nice little treat (manicure) at day 10, but I couldn't even make it to day 3. I thought maybe the accountability of blogging would help, but since no one really reads, let alone comments or cheers me on or pressures me, it didn't do much good. I was in an online group last time and while I made it further, I still barely made 10 days. I know that someone to actually work out with would help but I don't have that option.

Maybe I just need to take it more slowly? Give myself a chance to get acclimated to working out before I completely destroy myself and hurt so bad I never want to look at an exercise program again? I can't even make myself take a daily walk with kids in tow. I am made of sloth!

I've got Tae Bo coming in the mail. Even if I don't do it on a regimented schedule, it's FUN, and even doing it once a week is better than nothing, so here's hoping.

Postpartum Shred Day 2

2011-06-30T07:41:00.000-07:00

6 weeks 3 days

I don't even feel like puking today. My body is TIRED though.

Yesterday, I felt ok for most of the day after shredding in the morning. But by evening, I was whining about being sore. Sitting down and standing up used all the wrong (right) muscles in my legs and BOY HOWDY. This morning I had to literally ROLL out of bed because my legs wouldn't cooperate.

But still, after my morning pump and before breakfast; after making breakfast for the kids and filling my Klean Kanteen; after putting on my workout clothes and rearranging the living room, I did it again. Some of it was easier (the cardio), some was much harder (pushups made me cry and my arms scream). I can't wait until the day I can do ONE pushup again. I can't even get all the way to the floor with girly pushups.

Now, after my shower and breakfast, I am not nauseous, my muscles aren't screaming (until I try to move), but I can feel how tired they are. They're warm and tingly and almost a little shaky, even when I'm not asking anything of them. Toughen up, muscles! You've still got 28 days of this crap!

Something I began to remember as I was jumping around was that doing this workout before left my ankles really sore after a few days. Does anyone have suggestions on what I might be doing wrong and/or how to avoid this problem? It really slows me down when the jumping jacks and jumprope moves hurt in a pain kind of way instead of a burn kind of way.

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Daily Gratitudes:
~ Friends! We're heading to the splash pad at a nearby park in an hour or so to play with our friends. It's good to like people and then see them regularly.

~ Another friend of mine had a baby yesterday (this morning? Somewhere around midnight) after a long and tiring pregnancy and a long and drawn out induction. I'm so happy for her! And for her fiancee, too, of course.

~ Waking up to a clean kitchen. I keep our home fairly presentable, but the kitchen (also the entrance to our house) is a constant battle. I'm glad to say that this morning, we're winning.

~ Fresh produce. Thursday is CSA day and I love getting my box of goodies! I also have an organic fruit delivery coming today. There's just nothing like fresh summer fruit.