Book Reviews

I devour books.  I don't just read them.  And since I love to read -- fiction, mostly -- I decided to add book reviews to my blog.  More to come.  Just lettin' ya know.  :)

The Dilemma of School

I'd be lying if I said I hated sending my kids off to school each morning.  Let's face it.  I love being able to breathe, get some things done, and not have to break up fights every ten minutes.

But I am so very concerned with the issues my kids' generation is having to deal with.  Bullying and teasing have always been a problem in schools, and having suffered firsthand, I don't want my kiddos to have to go through it.  However, I survived and while I don't look fondly on it, I try to view it as a "normal" thing kids do.  Now the age of cyberbullying is upon us, and with the recent suicides from teen victims of cyberbullying, my concern is even greater.

It doesn't take much to make kids feel bad about themselves.  They are going through an intense amount of changes, emotionally and physically, all at one time.  Discovering who they are is a big enough deal, without throwing in all kinds of insanity on top of the pile.  So my here's my question:  is it really worth it?

I am so tempted to homeschool them, but I know what a huge undertaking that is, having schooled Riley at home for a year.  It's hard, both on the parents and the kids.  But then they would not be needlessly subjected to the ridiculousness of children, the meanness, bullying, teasing, foul language, and questionable world lessons taught in schools.

Instead, they would most likely have a crazy mother ... or one even loonier than she already is!

The kids love school now, but they are young.  There will come a day when the road gets a little rocky.  Question is:  what do we do? 

Pappy's Big Adventure

Sometimes he's called Paci, and in other homes he's known as Nuk.  Binky was a popular name for quite a while.  But in our home, his name is Pappy.

Pappy got his name from Savvy, an ardent pacifier advocate.  That child was hardly seen without a stinkin' pacifier in her mouth for the first three years of life.  The habit was passed along to Thing 3, aka Brooke.  Pappy has been her long time friend as well, but only at bedtime for the last year or so.

Now that she's three, it's time for Pappy to say goodbye.  We tried the same technique we used on Savvy, to no avail.  With Savvy, the Pappy Fairy came and whisked Pappy off to the paci party in the sky.  Brooke wasn't having any of that!  So we got creative.

It seems Pappy is on his BIG ADVENTURE, and that's why he's not around these days.  So far, Pappy has 

• explored caves
• been to the zoo to dance with giraffes
• went to the candy store, ate too much candy and got a tummy ache
• visited a bakery and ate too many donuts
• went to Africa on safari
• spent some time in the jungle swingin' with monkeys
• checked out some books at the library

and a toured a couple of museums.  Every night Brooke tells me a story about where Pappy is having his big adventure that night.  

But last night she got me.  I said, "So Brooke, where is Pappy going on an adventure tonight?"  She replied, "Home.  He's tired of adventures."

My Ears Work Just Fine, Thankyouverymuch!

"MOM!  MOM!  Did you hear that?  Brooke called Savvy a poopyhead!!!"

"MOM!  Mommy, mama, MOM!!!"

Why yes, dear children, I hear you.  

I hear you when you speak, 

I hear you when you yell.

I hear you in my sleep, 

I hear you very well.

I hear you when I'm shopping,

I hear you when I'm chopping,

I hear you in the shower

And I when I hear you I cower.

I try to ignore you,

I try to implore you

to be quiet for twenty seconds more.

Mommy needs a nap, 

Mommy needs a cap,

to pull over her ears and block out the incessant chatter that is absolutely, freaking positively driving me frikkin nuttier than the schizo in the corner talking to his crayons and whispering to his drawing, "If only those kids would just shut the heck up I could get some peace and quiet and listen to the aliens that have invaded my head."

There, I feel better.

What a Kid Can Do in 30 Seconds or Less

I was folding clothes in a clean living room when the phone rang.  I went into the kitchen, picked up the phone, said hi to my sister, and meandered back into the living room.  I thought it would be nice to talk and fold at the same time.  This is what I found:

Did you notice the culprit crawling off to the left?

When Desperate for Peace ...

... grab a handful of markers and tell the kids to write on the boxes that seem to be mulitplying around the house.  

This was the way I diffused tantrums, calmed arguments and mopped of buckets of whine.  Still living in Boxland, here.  A month after moving into the new house, there are still boxes lurking in corners and (I swear) breeding downstairs like wet Mogwai.

Here's my free tip to you:  if you have restless children and lots of boxes, grab crayons and markers and tell them to decorate anything that is brown cardboard.  It works. 

Here are a few samples of the drawings:

Thing 1 and Thing 2 drawing on dishpacks

Thing 2

Thing 1

Thing 1 and Thing 2 showing what happens when you color on packing tape

Before Jesse arrived in Minnesota

Thing 3 got into the action

Brain Development Theory

I used to be as sharp as a tack, quick as a snake, and never missed a beat. In fact, if you threw a cliche at me, I could throw it right back atcha.

And then I had four children.

Now, my memory is shot.  I have nervous breakdowns daily, and hardly find it disconcerting that I have done Google searches for straightjackets. In various sizes. 

So that made me think. What is it about having children makes a sane person become certifiably crazy? I think the answer is found in the womb.

Those precious little peanuts start this life with a bang. Cells divide and multiply, organs form, a tiny heart starts beating. And it's in the development that mothers begin to go insane.

Thing 1's artwork ... love it!

It's my theory that developing children not only get their nourishment in utero from their mothers. They also have the remarkable ability to suck one brain cell at a time out of Mommy's head and put it into their own wee little craniums. THAT is where our brains go, fellow moms. In growing our children, our prides, our joys, we lose a little of our own brains in the process.

It's the only answer that explains why I have increasingly become dumb, forgetful, nervous, frustrated and completely crazy. With each child I've lost lobes of my brain.

So maybe by the time my kids are teens and tell me in no uncertain terms that they are smarter than I am, I will know that it is true. But only because I GAVE them a BRAIN.

Yeah, you're welcome, child. Now where are my crayons?