Rox and Roll

Summer Reading

I love it when my Facebook friends post queries like "anyone read anything good lately?" or "going on vacation; need a good beach book!"  I've amassed quite a fantastic reading list from reading the comments, always chiming in with a few of my own.  To that end, I'm noting my recent favorite reads below, and I'm also listing what's on my summer reading list.  I'd love to know what's on yours!  There's nothing like a good book.

What I enjoyed reading recently:

Killer by Stephen Carpenter: This was nominated for some "best first novel" awards, and I concur that it's pretty great.  It's a "thriller," a bit of a deviation for me.  However, having finished the Stieg Larsson trilogy last summer, I can solemnly swear that anyone who likes those will like this book.  It's a bit less gruesome but so very gripping -- great for someone who doesn't mind sitting on the edge of her chair with a lump in her throat!

The Good Daughters by Joyce Maynard: I read this book at some point over the past year, and it's one that I think of often.  Perhaps it's because I grew up on a farm, or because I've spent many years in New England, or because the theme of what makes us "family" is intriguing to me, but this book is one that I'm sometime reminded of while just out in the world living my life.  The writing is quite special, IMHO.  I think it's great for those who love good fiction about family life that is more loving and less complex than anything by, for example, Jonathan Franzen. But that said, it's not just "chic lit" -- I know many men who'd love this book.

What I'm reading right now:

Breakfast with Buddha by Roland Merullo: I'm presently reading this one, and it seems to fit into that Franzen effed-up family story genre.  I like the interaction between the siblings and the road trip they're on, though ... enjoying it still, halfway through.  Parts have reminded me of E. Annie Proulx books for some reason.  (Her book The Shipping News is my all-time favorite.)

Why We Get Fat and What To Do About It by Gary Taubes: This is no diet book.  This is a scientific tome -- amazingly, still dense, but much condensed down for the layperson from his earlier real scientific, medical book on the subject -- and will blow wide open your eyes to your own lifestyle.  News flash: the old "calories in, calories out" model of diet and exercise is a total disproven failure.   But what you eat -- especially vis-a-vis sugar -- really matters.  (This book is by the guy who wrote the famous "Is Sugar Toxic?" piece for the Times.)

What's on my summer reading list:

Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese (even scored a signed copy from Books Inc., whoot!): And yes, I know I'm the last person in America, or at least the last from Palo Alto, to read this!

Day of Honey: A Memoir of Food, Love, and War by Annia Ciezadlo: I suggested this for my book club, downloaded it, and still haven't read it ... I'm not a "memoir" person, but, supposedly, this is one of the most valuable books to come out of the Iraq war; plus, I love the "foodie" angle.

Every Last One by Anna Quindlen: This will actually be my first foray into an Anna Quindlen novel, but the description is gripping.  It's a tale of a mother and of parenting with some sort of very dark angle ... not sure how it'll play out, but I'm intrigued.  (Plus, I picked it up at the library book sale for a buck, just like the next book on my list!)

Away by Amy Bloom: My first Amy Bloom book was Come to Me, a consolation prize for nearly being trampled upon my university's premiere screening of PCU (which was about my school).  Someone left the Bloom book behind in the stampede, and I read it until I gained access to a later show.  Her writing and her stories feel unusual, so I look forward to trying her out again, some 16 years later.

The Good Thief by Hannah Tinti: This book seems like a kids' tale of adventure (orphans, even!) written for grown-ups; it seems light and fun for summer.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot: The increasing number of non-fiction books on my list surprises me, but I think this is a very important read about how medical science has evolved -- and about how one person can make a real difference (though, in this case, it was without her knowledge or consent ... must read to find out how that played out!).

True Colors by Kristin Hannah: Usually, I wouldn't read an author's 17th book before I read -- well, knowing me, probably the whole first 16!  But this book has been getting some critical acclaim, and I've been into that family drama genre lately (Lorrie Moore's A Gate at the Stairs, Jonathan Franzen's Freedom, Jonathan Tropper's This is Where I Leave You, as well as Breakfast with Buddha and The Good Daughters, both described above). 

Brooklyn by Coim Toibin (with apologies for not getting the Gaelic accents properly in the name): Surely it's because I'm married to a son of Brooklyn that the title of the book leapt out to me as I browsed, but the tale -- a coming of age story in the Big Apple -- promises to be a great one.  I like reading vintage NY tales, even if imaginary.

I think I'll be adding something by Chris Bohjalian, too, as I enjoyed Midwives and haven't read anything of his since.

And lastly, but perhaps most importantly, since I've always had a love of mysteries (especially police procedurals, like anything by Michael Connelly), I'll be finding some award-winning mystery books through the Stop You're Killing Me blog.

What's on your bookshelf?

The Muffin WIN -- with recipe!

No, I'm not on a blogging hiatus ... I'm on a cooking bender.  I've been taking a few classes and focusing intently on how to feed my family better than what we're eating.  We dine out too much, and, when we don't, we return to the same "safe" foods ... chicken parm, pasta dishes (usually made with quinoa pasta since I'm wheat-allergic), breakfast for dinner ... all healthy, but, for this foodie, quite dull.  We need to spice things up a little around here! 

Last week's cooking class was artisinal breads and soups, from which my family will eat the focaccia (I can't eat it, and it's hella difficult to make the way it was taught, but I'll try making it anyway), and the Guv will eat the fresh corn and chipotle soup (which also has potato and parsnip).  That's about it!  Squash soup: no.  Tomato soup thickened with masa para tortillas?  Probably not.  But it was SO good!  The lesson of that class, taught by the owners of Palo Alto's renowned Oaxacan Kitchen, was not to use stock; bring out the flavors of the soup's ingredients instead.  It's more healthy and usually vegan and gluten-free that way, too, especially with prepared masa (readily available here in CA) as a thickener.  This week, I'm taking Antojitos Oaxacanos, in which I'll learn to make one of Oaxaca's seven famous moles: mole amarillo.  I'm stoked!  My family probably won't eat it, but hey -- it's fun, it's inexpensive, and I'll learn some new tricks that might translate into some dining success at home.

Yet despite the blast I'm having gathering outside intel on the elusive in-home dining menu, some of the best ideas are coming from my cookbook collection.  I read them like novels!  And since I found myself both with half an hour of free time and in the vicinity of a huge Barnes & Noble this weekend, I bought a soy latte and browsed, making the disturbing observation that the baking cookbooks are right across from the self-help eating disorder guides in that store.  Hey B&N?  SHELVING FAIL.

Anyway, I scored two great ones, and both from the clearance rack to boot: The Wagamama cookbook, from one of my favorite restaurants, for $10, and the healthy kids' cookbook pictured at left for $8.  Normally, I don't even look at kids' cookbooks; except for Mollie Katzen's fantastic ones (ok, and "Fanny at Chez Panisse"), they usually really stink.  I don't need a recipe involving how to cut up a hot dog and frozen broccoli and mix it up with Velveeta-based mac-n-cheese!  (And: eeeww!)  But when I started leafing through this one, I found a whole lot of stuff that I hadn't tried making for my family before.  (Believe me, I'm having a cooking renaissance, but I've tried a lot of variety searching for a new hit over the past decades, to little avail.)  And so today, I gathered some ingredients, and tried attempt #1: healthy muffins, also known as "something to put in Dash's lunchbox that he might actually consider eating." 

Aside: his lunch repertoire consists presently of Ritz crackers and Trader Joe's presliced sharp cheddar with a TJ's "squeeze" applesauce that he never eats ... or a whole wheat Whole Foods croissant with a chocolate milk that he rarely drinks ... or a Kraft cheese on sourdough sandwich that he never eats ... or blue-box mac-n-cheese that, at most, he takes two bites of ... are you starting to get a sense for how hard it is to get this kid to eat ANYthing?  I look forward to Thursdays, as it's "bagel day" at recess, so I know he'll eat a nutritionally-void but filling plain bagel -- and to Fridays, where I don't have to pack him a lunch and usually take him out to a place where he can absolutely gorge himself on chicken nuggets, french fries, pizza, etc. -- because, by Fridays, he's starving to death.  Perhaps literally.

So with that, I baked Yam-and-Jam Muffins, and they are a WIN!  He absolutely woofed it down after school (probably because today was one of those two-bite mac-n-cheese days), and he declared it "the healthiest cupcake ever."  Tomorrow, his lunch will be one of these and a Stonyfield "super smoothie."  If he drinks even half of it and eats this muffin, it'll be a blessed miracle.  (P.S. I did not tell him the ingredients, a lesson learned from many years of battling his Stubborn with my Evasive.)

Since it worked so well in our house and since I do think it's pretty healthy, the recipe follows.  I chose to opt out of the frosted top, though it's included in the recipe below, because I think that detracts from the healthfulness; and dusting the top with powdered sugar scratched the itch for it not to scream "VEGGIE MUFFIN!"

Enjoy this Yam and Jam Muffin Recipe:

Set your oven to 400 degrees F first, and lightly grease or line 12 regular-sized muffin cups with paper liners.

Ingredients:

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour (I used 1 1/4 cup white flour, 1/2 cup whole wheat flour)

1/3 cup packed brown sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon apple pie spice or ground cinnamon (I used cinnamon)

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 of a 17-ounce can sweet potatoes, drained, about 1 cup (I used one cup of organic sweet potato puree, which is sold canned at Whole Foods)

1 beaten egg

1/2 cup milk (I used fat-free, lactose-free)

1/3 cup fruit jam or preserves (I used all-fruit apricot; other suggestions are strawberry, peach or plum)

1/4 cup cooking oil (I used canola)

1 recipe Jam Icing (follows)

1. In a large bowl, combine flour, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt.  Set aside.

2. In another bowl, mash the drained sweet potatoes with a fork (or dump in prepared puree).  Stir in egg, milk, jam, and oil.

3. Add sweet potato mixture all at once to flour mixture, and stir just until moistened; the batter should be lumpy.

4. Spoon/scoop batter into prepared muffin cups, filling 3/4 full.  Bake at 400 for 18-20 minutes or until golden and a wooden toothpick stuck in the center comes out clean. Cool in muffin cups on a wire rack for 5 minutes, then remove and cool slightly more.

5. Drizzle muffin with jam icing if desired (recipe below) -- or dust with powdered sugar like I did -- and, if desired, top with additional jam or preserves.

Jam Icing: In a small bowl, stir together 3/4 cup sifted powdered sugar, 1 Tablespoon fruit jam or preserves, 1/4 teaspoon vanilla, and enough milk (2-3 teaspoons) to make icing of drizzling consistency.  Makes about 1/4 cup.

Nutritional info, per muffin: 215 calories, 6 g total fat (1 g saturated), 19 mg cholesterol, 174 mg sodium, 39 g carbohydrates, 1 g fiber, 3 g protein.  Daily Values: 24% vitamin A, 5% vitamin C, 6% calcium, 8% iron.  Exchanges: 1 Starch, 1 1/2 Other Carbohydrate, 1 Fat.

P.S. This recipe is from page 45 of the Better Homes and Gardens cookbook pictured above.

 

Holiday Gift Guide, Part Two: Gifts of In-Home Entertainment, Part A: Books

In this gift guide "In-Home Entertainment" entry, I'm covering books, from my favorite adult reads to cookbooks and kids' books, plus some extra "gifts for readers" at the end.  I've been an active participant in the (now-defunct) Silicon Valley Moms Blog book club, many members from which are, like me, now participating in the From Left to Write book club and, through that, have been fortunate to be exposed to some fantastic reads that we might not otherwise choose.  I'm also a member of an offline book club, where discussing books among friends in real life never gets old.  (Yes, I'm a bookaholic!)  This list below includes some books from and some beyond the purview of my blogging "work."  It's all noted with disclaimers where appropriate.  I've also added a parenthetical note with suggested gift ideas to pair with the book.  Enjoy!

Adult Fiction:

• Girl in Translation by Jeanne Kwok (reviewed for Silicon Valley Moms Group book club): One of the best fiction books I've ever read, this book is practically the author's memoir, even though she bills it as fiction -- a coming-of-age immigrant tale exposing the lives of sweatshop workers and, in the case of this book, their first-generation American children. (Gift idea: Support the end of sweatshops in America by purchasing some items from American Apparel: gloves, scarves, hats, etc.)

• Following Polly by Karen Bergreen (reviewed for From Left to Write book club): This is a debut mystery novel by a former lawyer and stand-up comic, and, as such, it's refreshingly funny and quite different from my usual mystery reads; I look forward to Bergreen's next work!  (Gift idea: a whoopie cushion?!  I'm only half-kidding ... this is a tough one to pair, so how about reading snacks, a book light, tea, vodka?)

• The Good Daughters by Joyce Maynard: My (offline) book group chose this book to read this month, and I whipped through it in two days because it was that gripping.  A story of two girls born on the same day in the same New Hampshire hospital, the intertwining of the two families' lives and the way those lives are chronicled over a large expanse of time makes you feel like you're part of their lives by the end of the magnificent tale.  I'm planning to read some of Maynard's other works soon.  (Gift idea: This one has a lot to do with farming, especially goat cheese and strawberries ... add some crackers and some apple cider for a fantastic seasonal treat!)

• A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore: My dad, a retired college English professor, suggested that I read this book, and I'm quite glad that he did.  It's the story of a midwestern college student who works as a nanny for a toddler, and the twists that this book takes are mind-boggling.  What will keep me reading Moore's stories is her unbelievable writing style: witty, wry, and descriptive in both light and dark ways.  Like "The Good Daughters," above, you'll think about this book months after you've read it. (Gift idea: soup and crackers... it's a book that calls for comfort food!)

Adult NonFiction:

• The Price of Privilege by Madeline Levine PhD: The subtitle of this book is "How Parental Pressure and Material Advantage Are Creating a Generation of Disconnected and Unhappy Kids" -- and I feel that's almost all that needs to be said about the book.  Every single parent I know, especially here in Silicon Valley, needs to read this book.  Every. Single. One.  (Gift idea: Pair this with something to encourage a family to spend time together: something like an Apples-to-Apples game, or an American Girl family quiz book.)

• the possibility of everything by Hope Edelman (reviewed for the Silicon Valley Moms Blog book club) - This book is just plain lovely; it's a lovely travelogue of Belize, and it's a lovely tale of natural medicine and parental love.  It's very unlike anything I've read to date.  (Gift idea: a trip to Belize?!  I wish!  Tropical fruit, perhaps...)

Cookbooks:

• The Earthbound Cook by Myra Goodman (reviewed for the From Left to Write book club): By the co-founder of Earthbound Farm, this cookbook raises your environmental consciousness with its focus on sustainable agriculture -- and marries those concerns with fantastic recipes that are good for you.  The granola clusters are addictive!  (Gift idea: bake granola clusters and gift them with the book.)

• The Gluten-Free Almond Flour Cookbook by Elana Amsterdam: I purchased this cookbook because I'm wheat-allergic and am always searching for good baking alternatives.  I've found the answer in almond flour.  While I have some other alternative cookbooks, like babycakes by Erin McKenna, the recipes involving alternate flours are often high-maintenance and involve a precarious balance of chemistry.  Not so with almond flour!  In fact, I find it easier to work with than wheat -- and its health benefits far exceed any other flour.  Gluten-free or not, this is a can't-miss cookbook.  (Gift idea: almond flour, to get the baker started.)

• Fanny at Chez Panisse by Alice Waters: Oh, how I love this kids' cookbook!  Written from the perspective of Alice Waters' daughter Fanny at age 7, it's divided in a most peculiar way (you'll see when you pick it up!), and the tales interwoven with the recipes are as delicious as the suggested menus.  I love the Moosewood cookbooks for children, but, as far as the interweaving of recipes with stories, this one really takes the cake.  It's great for kids from about ages 8-13, especially girls who'll identify with Fanny.

Kids' books:

• Redwoods by Jason Chin: This book is appropriate for the elementary school-aged set and is primarily a primer on redwoods, experienced through a young boy's eyes after his discovery of a book on these magnificent trees.  A lot of people will be receiving this one from me as a baby gift!  (Gift idea: a donation to plant a tree through the Save the Redwoods League.)

• The Visual Dictionary of Star Wars by David Reynolds: When Petunia was 5, she went through a Star Wars phase, dressing as Princess Leia for Halloween; now that Dash is five, he dresseed as a Clone Wars ARF trooper for Halloween, and we're back on Tattoine/Endor/the Death Star.  Dash is getting this book for Christmas because it's everything about everything in movies 4-6, the most young-kid friendly of the six movies. (Gift idea: a Jedi robe)

•  the Magic Tree House series of books by Mary Pope Osborne: I read these with Petunia, and now Dash and I are reading them together -- and the tales never get old!  The brother and sister pair, Jack and Annie, go on fantastic adventures with books via a magic tree house, and, though fiction, the tales expose the characters and the "real" children reading them to some fantastic historically-based tales.  My kids have learned about Egypt, tornadoes, dinosaurs, and a whole host of other things from these books -- and any fiction that piques their curiosity to to further exploring of subject matter is a big WIN to this mom!

• The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart: This book, appropriate for kids about 9-13 or so, is one of the best I've ever read, and Petunia agrees.  It's a tale of mystery and adventure that rivals Harry Potter, sans the dementors and spells.  There are two (maybe more by now) subsequent books in this burgeoning series, all as fantastic as the first, per Petunia, who says it's perfect for both boys and girls. 

Gifts for Readers:

• A Kindle or any kind of e-reader: Whether a Kindle, a Nook, an iPad, or whatever, these devices are an answer to an avid reader's prayer.  My parents bought me a Kindle a couple of years ago, and I'm not sure how I'd live without it now.  I love that I can download just one issue of a New Yorker at a discounted price (usually when my dad calls me and suggests an issue I'd like), as I can't keep up with a whole subscription; and I also love that I no longer need or want to leaf through People magazines at the doctor's office because I have something better that I want to read in my purse at all times.  You rarely see me without my Kindle being within arm's reach.  Living in Silicon Valley, I'm hoping that this is the year in which my library figures out a way to let me e-check out books on it ... probably not yet, but hey: the classic book downloads are mostly free while I'm waiting!

• A subscription to a writer's magazine: I don't know many avid readers who haven't thought of penning their own tome.  Why not get their creative juices flowing with a subscription to something like Writer's Digest?

• A book rest: Different from a lap desk, this pyramid book rest is a perfect gift for someone who enjoys reading in bed, whether on a Kindle or from a "real" book.  I don't read in bed when the Guv's around, but, when he's travelling for work, I retire when the kids do to cuddle up with my book -- my treat to myself after a long day of single-parenting!  Now if only this pillow had a holder for my wine glass...

• Flowering tea: I know few bookaholics who don't enjoy a good cup of tea with their tomes, and this flowering tea gift set from Numi is a very special cuppa indeed ... with its glass teapot and spectacular display as it brews, it's one of those things that you'd probably never buy for yourself but greatly enjoy as a special treat.  I gave this set to one of my BFFs this year for her birthday.

 P.S. Here are the books I'm asking Santa for this year:

• Freedom by Jonathan Franzen: I read and enjoyed his book The Corrections, so I'm looking forward to another of Franzen's dysfunctional family tales.

• Tepper Isn't Going Out by Calvin Trillin: I learned of this novel during a holiday book swap (which included sampling three varieties of soup -- a great idea for a party!), and it's supposed to be very funny -- a thin novel built around the quest to secure an urban parking space.  I love me some good New York comedy!

• Breakfast with Buddha by Roland Merullo: Yeah, so I like novels ... anyway, in the same book swap, I learned of this book, a "spiritual road-trip" (as well as a real one) in which the protagonist's New Age sister introduces him to her guru.  It seems like it might be a Kerouac knock-off, but it had me at "Buddha" in the title ... so I'll check it out.

Next up: Holiday Gift Guide, Part Two: Gifts of In-Home Entertainment, Part B: Movies -- with a giveaway, times three!

Cross-posted on Good Stuff Rox

 

From Left to Write Book Club: "The Earthbound Cook"

For this From Left to Write Book Club we read -- and cooked from! -- "The Earthbound Cook" by Myra Goodman, the co-founder of Earthbound Farm.

I confess: I am a cookbook junkie.  I collect them, and I read them like favorite novels, over and over again.  I try recipes, and, when it comes to dinner, I've had a lot of successes and a few outright bombs -- especially because if you look up "picky eaters" in the dictionary, you'll find pictures of my husband and of my son.  Nevertheless, I keep picking up cookbooks and keep experimenting, increasingly with my 10 y.o. daughter, Petunia, who can make better stir-fry than I can!  My favorite place to find the cookbooks which inspire our experiments is at our local library's monthly used book sale, where I've picked up some of my favorites, like a couple of cookbooks from the renowned vegetarian Moosewood Restaurant in Ithaca, New York.  (If you're ever anywhere near there, it's a must-eat!)  Leafing through The Earthbound Cook, I conjured up thoughts of Moosewood a lot.  In both books, there's the same gentle caring for the earth and its resources pervading almost every page, and I really enjoy that, in part because of growing up on my family's farm.  These kinds of earth-friendly cookbooks translate cooking from something necessary to do to feed a family into an act of love for everything going into the meal production, from the farmer who provided the crops through the chemistry of their cooking until the consumption by our loved ones.  I once heard a blogger read a piece (many apologies for forgetting where, when and who!) called something like "I cook because I love."  My family may not always love my cooking, but they never doubt its provinence in my heart.

Since I do find it hard to please everyone at mealtime, oftentimes, I bake and I bake.  I can say with unusual confidence that I can bake anything, and I can modify just about any recipe to make it wheat-free.  But I do love it when I come across recipes that I don't have to modify and that my entire family gobbles up, and that's what happened with the cranberry-walnut granola clusters pictured above.  In fact, I've baked four batches since receiving the book a month ago.  After I baked the first one, my husband ate it all in two days.  Since the man eats very little good-for-you food, the clusters were a big win; and so I doubled the next three batches!  There are a lot of great recipes to love in this cookbook; the yam-squash casserole is going to be on my table for Thanksgiving, as are one of the salads (I have yet to pick) and perhaps another dessert from this book or from its predecessor, "Food to Live By," which I picked up at the Earthbound Farm stand at Green Fest this year.  I haven't read it enough (or experimented enough with its recipes) to know if I enjoy that one as much as "The Earthbound Cook," but it does look quite promising, especially as it includes tales of the start of Earthbound Farm.

So, getting back to that cookbook collection, now expanded by two of Myra Goodman's gems, my recent acquisitions include an Atherton Dames cookbook from 1970 and a Sunset Magazine Dinner party cookbook from 1974.  Both have a lot of recipes for aspic, emphasis on "ick."  I'm always searching for yet earlier ones, but those ones, from right around when I was born (1973) are enjoyable to me because I can get a sense for what was on people's dinner table in that time.  To me, food paints a picture of a place in time and holds so many memories.  What I wouldn't give for another bowl of my great-grandmother Mae's potato soup with riffles!  I can remember where I sat when I ate my last bowl of it over twenty years ago.  Someday, I hope that my kids go through my cookbooks, seeing how I've annotated recipes that worked and ones that didn't, and remember, like the taste of my great-grandma's soup, the taste of love. 

So tell me: what does love taste like to you, and in what cookbook can I find it?

*****

I always add a note on whether or not I'd recommend this book.  Absolutely!  I haven't tried enough of the recipes to promise that it'll change your family's eating lifestyle drastically or anything like that, but I have read it cover to cover a few times and promise that it'll inspire you to think more deeply about the sourcing of your food and also about some pretty magical creations that lie in the pages.  I think it'd make a great gift for someone who enjoys to cook.

Disclaimer: In the From Left to Write book club, we read books together and then write blog posts inspired by them, not reviewing the works but, rather, responding to them with our own writing.  For participation in the club, I receive the books for free but do not receive other compensation nor do I commit to writing favorably about the books.  The opinions expressed are mine and mine alone. 

Feeling bookish

What are you reading these days?

I've been awash in a sea of novels in addition to my usual litany of parenting/child-rearing tomes.  Here's what's on my bookshelf:

• I'm over halfway through Madeline Levine's The Price of Privilege, a book that's a must-read for every parent in Silicon Valley (or anywhere else as materially wealthy as this place).  If you seek to raise a kid who's happy and thoughtful despite the pressures of adolescence in a higher-than-average-performance area, this book will inspire a lot of reflection and make you reconsider how to handle your kids' responsibilities and accountabilities.  I can't say enough about it and plan to gift it to friends who haven't read it.

• I'm making my way through Stieg Larsson's popular trilogy, having finished The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and just begun The Girl who Played with Fire.  I didn't love the first one, though I was happy with the way it picked up halfway through; the friend lending me the books tells me that the second one is incredible.  The characters are interesting enough to keep me reading and mourning the death of the author after the third book.

• At my strong suggestion, my book club is reading Girl in Translation by Jeanne Kwok.  I'm planning to re-read it for our meeting.  Click on the book's link to see my review for the (former) Silicon Valley Moms Blog book club.

• I can't wait for the upcoming From Left to Write book club featuring our first cookbook, The Earthbound Cook.  The granola clusters are so good that my husband has eaten his way through two batches since I received the book a week ago!  There's lots more in there I want to try, as I'm having a bit of a cooking renaissance.

• With Dash in kindergarten and Petunia rapidly approaching middle school, this year I'll re-read Real Boys by William Pollack and Reviving Ophelia by Mary Pipher.  I don't know if these books count as self-help or child-help, but, either way, I use them as touchpoints to reflect on raising resilient kids.

I have a lot more on my docket, but those are the ones that are pulled from the shelf and waiting.  If you have any books to recommend, I'm all ears!  Or should I say eyes?

 

Whom would you follow?

For this From Left to Write Book Club we read "Following Polly" by Karen Bergreen.  This debut novel is a mystery written by a stand-up comic/lawyer who is as funny and delightful in person as you'd suspect the writer of this lighthearted book to be.  It was a joy to read.

In many ways, after reading "Following Polly," I am extra-glad that I don't have a stalker story about which I can write.  There was a stalker-ish "butt grabber" on the loose when I was a student at Wesleyan, but he seemed to prefer lusher booties than my then-bony one.  That one raised a lot of ire on my very-PC campus since someone was going around "violating" people, but I couldn't help but laugh about it.  Butt grabbing is some funny, funny stuff.

What I do relate to, though, in "Following Polly" is the idea that someone can captivate us enough that we want to follow them and learn more about how they live their fascinating lives.  Heck, people make money off of doing just that when it comes to celebrities, right?!  But I've already written about how I couldn't care less about Paris-LiLo-Kate-Jersey Shore-Real Housewives etc.  Here are the people I'd like to follow around to see how they do it:

• I want to spy on the mom who shows up to kindergarten drop-off at 8 a.m., dressed to the nines and looking as though she's ready to take on corporate America; but, the thing is, she doesn't work, or sit on an nonprofit boards, or volunteer extensively.  I want to know to where she is wearing those fancy clothes.  (But I don't want to go with her to wherever she's going.  I'm not a fan of any clothes that require ironing.)
• I want to lurk in Calafia and figure out what all of those Google people talk about over lunch.  The ones who are early-Googlers drive from their campus, which, I hear, has a host of fine restaurants, hang out with Charlie in his newest digs and talk shop.  To me, they're like an alien race, and lunch at Calafia is the best place to figure out exactly how they're plotting world domination, since they spend the rest of their day on the Death Star "campus."
• I want to seek out some moms who are really fit and copy their routines, especially when they're up against two straight weeks of sick kids.  I'll never do the 5 a.m. jogging thing, which a few of them do, but I wonder: how do their arms get so toned?  And why do I never see them eat?  Wait, maybe I'm on to something there...
• Speaking of eating, I want to grocery shop with some food blogger moms, like my friend CityMama, who seem to pull off in-advance menu planning -- and who seem to be able to get their kids to eat whatever they cook.  How do they do that?!!!  I want to cook like them, but, more importantly, I want to know their secrets to the foodie child.  Petunia will try (almost) everything once, but Dash's food variety ranges from mac and cheese to grilled cheese to cheese-only pizza to pasta with cheese.  And that's about it.  I want these cooking mamas to teach me (and my kids!) a thing or two.

So, those are the people I might be stalking soon.  If I need a bail fund, we'll post information right here on Rox and Roll.  Meanwhile, if anyone wants to follow me around, you'll learn the following: I only drink good coffee (Blue Bottle, Philz, and mocha from Mayfield only); I dig through the "singles" cheese basket at Whole Foods in search of the stinkiest, most delicious cheese; I take my workouts at the local hard-core gym very seriously to offset the effects of eating cheese and drinking coffee; foursquare is my life; I love living in California, laughing, and spending time with my friends; and I actually do stop to smell every rose I pass.  Also, I'm coming around on designer yoga wear, am weighing the benefits of thongs versus commando, and yes, I share TMI.  In other words, my life's an open book, so I really wouldn't be interesting to stalk.  Lastly, I'm always smiling, and it's probably because I'm either onto you or up to something.  I believe in keeping things interesting.  The end.

**********

I always add a note on whether or not I'd recommend this book.  In this case, absolutely!  I look forward to Karen Bergreen's next book and hope that she chooses to stick with the mystery genre.  I am a serious mystery fan, but I don't find enough books that are funny without being silly in a stupid way; Bergreen fills that niche. 

In the From Left to Write book club, we read books together and then write blog posts inspired by them, not reviewing the works but, rather, responding to them with our own writing.  For participation in the club, I receive the books for free but do not receive other compensation nor do I commit to writing favorably about the books.  The opinions expressed are mine and mine alone. 

From Left to Write Book Club: "This Is Not the Story You Think It Is" by Laura Munson

For this From Left to Write Book Club we read "This Is Not the Story You Think It Is: A Season of Unlikely Happiness" by Laura Munson.  It is a memoir of marriage, of a time in Munson's life when her husband is going through a mid-life crisis, forcing Munson to work to keep her marriage and family together during a time that is emotionally and financially trying. 

    For me, it is hard to read a book about someone else's marital difficulties and respond.  My instinct is to judge, to write, "Why did you put up with that?  I wouldn't have!" among many other things.  The reality of marriage is that everyone faces ups and downs -- though perhaps few to the extreme that Munson shares in her book -- and that, for the most part, we keep them private, save, perhaps, for a few whispers to our very dearest girlfriends.  Munson, on the other hand, writes about her struggles after their resolution, and she's received many accolades for sharing her way of coping.  That's how I viewed this book: a memoir of coping with marriage when it's not what you think is should be (despite the title of the book?!).  And that's something to which I can respond.

    For over 20 years, I have been with my high school sweetheart, the Guv, and not a single day has gone by since the day we met when I've regretted that.  Unlike many friends, we've never been "off and on."  We just are.  We've been married for 13+ years.  We've weathered a pretty decent handful of life crises, over work, family, parenting, or whatever -- and we've survived.  We haven't had Munson's issues, and, after reading her memoir, our life almost seems dull because we haven't.  I'm not suggesting that we haven't had some really intense arguments, that we haven't ever gone to bed angry -- but our worst fight ever was over our differing positions on gun control (I'll never tell who was on which side!).  It kept us up all night, and it totally felt insurmountable.  Yes, we've had financial stress from time to time.  We even had (have) a high-needs kid, one who had a significant number of medical issues -- talk about stress!  We've had challenges, and we've gone to bed sad, and angry, and frustrated, and yes, we've fought.  But we've never moved away from each other, physically or emotionally.  We've seen it happen to friends, and, sometimes, we can see how it happens.  Jobs are stressful, having a family to support is stressful, having other people need is stressful -- whether it's needing you, your income, your presence, whatever.  Some people can weather it.  Some can't.  Some can't and then do anyway, like Munson.  If I knew how to pick the winners and the losers, I could put divorce lawyers out of business!  Of course, no one knows the secret to what makes love and marriage work, but I do know what has made it work for me, from my perspective (I can't presume to speak for my husband), and here's what I think:

    Like the scripture says (1 Corinthians 13), love is patient, and love is kind.  To me, that means that love doesn't mean sunshine and roses every day; it means that sometimes, storm clouds and rain are needed to bring forth the rainbows and the flowers.  Not every day can be perfect.  And kindness, most especially on those less-than-perfect days, is essential.  That means acknowledging that, as a couple, you have the best intentions -- and that you assume the best of each other, not that one is out to one-up the other.  There is no "winner" in a partnership.  

    In that same passage, love is described as something which "keeps no record of wrongs."  (This varies depending on the version of Bible you use; mine is a newer one, and I prefer this phrasing.)  My husband imagines that there is some typewriter in the sky that produces a transcript of every conversation so that, when he dies, God can check it and prove him right.  I just know that, if we're in disagreement, I'm obviously right; I don't need the transcript.  I say these things in jest, but, isn't this the trap into which we all often fall, whether it's with spouses or family or friends -- or even our kids?  This is why letting go matters.  There are a very big lot of people in this world who hold grudges.  I think most of them are actually in my family.  (Remember: let it go.)  The fact of the matter is that, if we all love each other, what we said or did yesterday doesn't matter, even if we said it two weeks ago and two months ago and two years ago, too.  What matters is loving each other.  We all screw up!  And we all need forgiveness, not to be held by our ankles over a barrel of piranhas, made to suffer so that the other person in disagreement with us can make some kind of point.  There is no "winner" in a family. 

    And then comes the most beautiful part of that verse: "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  Love never fails."   What truer could be said of a good, strong marriage?  I read this passage to say that loving someone is going to involve bearing things and enduring things -- but also shared hope and shared faith.  Love wins over everything else.

    There's a reason I had these verses read at my wedding some 13 years ago, and it's that I do think that the essence of any good relationship, especially a marriage, is found in those precepts.  We don't sit around reading the Bible most nights to remember these things, but they're part of us because we have a fundamental desire to be on each other's team.  That doesn't mean that we don't ever need alone time, but it does mean that, if one of us changes paths, we take the time to get the other's buy-in -- or stay the course, if the other doesn't wish to deviate.  Marriage does involve a certain amount of self-sacrifice, but, in the successful ones, that sacrifice is in the interest of the greater partnership, which is higher-order than ourselves.  When love is true, it's worth it. 

*****

    While our book club doesn't review books, I always like to add a note regarding whether or not I'd recommend the book.  And for this one, I really don't know.  If your marriage is in crisis and you need to know you're not alone, maybe.  But the overall tone, to me, was very indulgent, and I also felt the writing was choppy and, at times, hard to read.  I loathe sentence fragments, and they're rife in books as "chatty" as this one.  I just didn't feel like Munson was speaking to me, and, frankly, I don't think that she was.  Share this book with a friend who's husband is acting like an a$$, perhaps; that's a great audience for it.

With the closure of the Silicon Valley Moms Group comes a new book club, From Left to Write!  Founded by former SV Moms partner Linsey Krolik, our club will continue more or less along the lines of the SV Moms group one: we'll read books together and then write blog posts about them, not reviewing the works but, rather, responding to them with our own writing.  For participation in the club, I receive the books for free but do not receive other compensation nor do I commit to writing favorably about the books.  The opinions expressed are mine and mine alone. 

Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Club: Girl in Translation

In this post, I am participating in the Silicon Valley Moms Blog Book Club.  We read "Girl in Translation" by Jean Kwok.  (Yes, I know that I just wrote about the Silicon Valley Moms Group closing up shop, but the book club has some unfinished business.)

It is rare that I read a book and have so many thoughts and reactions to it -- primarily, "Here; read this."  And when you do, keep reminding yourself that this is a novel, a work of fiction; but remember that you read the author's note, which will make you wonder how much of her is in the lead character, as both worked in sweatshops as children in the U.S.

Protagonist Kimberly, who we see first as a child and raise through adulthood, is foreign-born, but she becomes her family's first American.  In her plight, I see a lot of the story of first-generation Americans, including my own husband, son of a Polish immigrant mother and a Greek immigrant father.  Reading this story, I reflected on how different my life path -- as an American mixed from a handful of European ancestries from people who've lived here a long time -- is from my husband's, and how different both of our paths were from Kimberly's.  For example, growing up in my family in West Virginia, everyone who wanted to work could.  We could check the right boxes, so to speak: white, local, etc.  If we had a trade (farming, coal mining, breadman, teacher), we could work in our field.  My in-laws had a harder time.  My mother-in-law became a U.S. citizen early on, but she never did work in her field; holding a graduate degree in chemical engineering, she retired from work in sales and catering at a luxury hotel recently.  Compare her to Kimberly's mother in the story, a former music teacher in Hong Kong who becomes a factory slave in America: she is beholden to her big sister, Paula, who has Issues.  But no one can really take Paula to task, for, culturally, they are beholden to Paula for bailing Mrs. Chang out multiple times, from marrying her intended to paying tuberculosis-related medical bills to bringing them to America ... to forcing them to work in a sweatshop to pay off these debts with interest, to forcing them to live in a condemned, heatless building ... things that any American would find legally actionable.  The concept of honor pervades the story: honoring debts, honoring familial ties, honoring education, honoring being in America, honoring one's own life path while choosing not to mess up someone else's.  And I submit that the longer an American has been off of the boat from another land (the more generations that have passed), the lower the commitment to honor.  My family would have never spent one night in Aunt Paula's condemned apartment nor one minute working in a sweatshop.  My in-laws would've tried both, perhaps, but they, too, would've abandoned it, realizing quickly that they did not come to America to live and to work in squalor.  Kimberly's family honors their commitments until their debts are paid and beyond; but that honor exacted some pretty steep prices, too.  (You'll have to read the book to find out more about that.)

All of these thoughts on honor inspired me to think: how many people stick together -- specifically, how many people stick to horrible situations -- because their sense of honor outweighs their common sense?  

I've known someone in that situation lately and, let me tell you, it is an ugly place.  Heck, I've been in that situation lately; haven't we all?  Can we honor requests from people who treat us badly?  I know that I cannot.  And worse, what about people who are bad to our children?  That's the part of this book that tugged at my heart the most: I can understand how Kimberly's mom owed a debt to her sister, but it was pretty hard to stomach Kimberly, a child, having to pay that debt, too.  Not only would I never be able to honor someone who mistreated my children, I'd find it hard not to make their lives hell.  And that is another piece of beauty of "Girl in Translation": Mrs. Chang doesn't once fight back, but she wins, in the end, anyway, just by doing the honorable thing, getting through the circumstances life threw at her, and moving on to a better life, devoid of the person who made it hell.  There's a lesson in that for all of us.

*****

I always add a note at the end of my book club posts regarding whether or not I'd recommend this book, and I enthusiastically note "Yes!" regarding this one.  I'll be gifting it to folks, even; it's well written, the story is compelling, and, like I mentioned, there are valuable take-aways in it, which one doesn't always glean from works of fiction.  It was a real privilege to read this book.

Disclaimer: I received a complimentary copy of this book.  I did not commit to reviewing the book, let alone favorably, and am not being compensated otherwise for this post.  The opinions and reactions above are mine alone. 

Every day is Earth Day around here

In this post, I am participating in the Silicon Valley Moms Blog book club.  We read National Geographic's "Green Guide for Families: The Complete Reference for Eco-friendly Parents."  Our book club does not do book reviews but, rather, enjoys books as a springboard for blogging topics.  This is my tribute to Earth Day on April 22.

Around here, Earth Day is a pretty big deal, mostly because of Petunia.  Since around age 3, she has been an environmental activist versed in earth-friendliness well beyond her years.  I blame Scholastic for this, as I ordered some books on the topic of Earth Day with the preschool book order her first year, and, ever since, they've been among our favorites: books like The Lorax by Dr. Seuss, The Magic School Bus and the Climate Challenge, the Little Critter series' "It's Earth Day" by Mercer Mayer, and MathStart's Earth Day -- Hooray! (and many, many more -- I'm a bookaholic!).

Since my mother was once arrested for environmental activism (I was a teenager at the time), I guess I can also say that the apple didn't fall far from the tree; I've always been eco-conscious, too, and sought to instill in my children some basic good, green habits: things like turning the water off when brushing their teeth, turning off lights, and re-wearing some clothes (like PJs and jeans) rather than launder things unnecessarily.

Petunia has increased our desire to live this way simply by her passion for it.  Example: The girl refuses to use paper towels or hand dryers after washing her hands, and she can tell you exactly how many trees it takes to make a roll of paper towels and exactly how much energy a dryer uses -- and why dryers are no more environmental than towels.  Instead, the girl asks that we wave our hands around or use our pants(!).  I'm old school, and I view the wiping-dry process as part of the cleaning process, but I'm trying to acknowledge her efforts by giving her some "people towels" on Earth Day this year; they are personal, portable, reusable, organic cotton handtowels.  I'm not sure she'll love the idea, though, because a) I bought something, which is not green, and b) they'll need to be washed sometimes, which is not green, and c) she likes making a statement about green-ness.  

In any event, why, as a family, do we bother to think about these things?

We bother because our family is educated and does believe that global warming is a truth.  (If you don't, please, go and join the "birthers" and other buffoons on someone else's blog.  I can't handle ignorance of scientific fact.)  We bother because we inherited an Earth dirtier than the one on which our parents were born.  We bother because China and India won't bother anytime soon, and, even if we absolutely hate the weak-willed way America has been handling that global crisis, we acknowledge a need to do what we can to offset bigger polluters.  That's why we bike and walk wherever we can as often as we can: to work, to school, to dinner in town; and the benefit of that beyond the "green" factor is our health.

And that, health, is why I bother a little more these days.  This past year has revealed some significant, chronic health issues for me, specifically in my lungs.  The genesis of these issues is still being investigated, but a number of factors are likely contributors: smoking households, growing up in a valley with air inversion, and exposure to toxins from coal and steel are all strong possibilities.  I can't look backward, though, and get bitter about the places and way in which I grew up.  But I can look forward and do a little more so that someone down the line might breathe a little easier, literally.

For me, looking forward means continuing to improve our household's eco-consciousness because we can always do better in that regard.  But it also means taking on some bigger things.  I'll be paying a little more attention to legislation surrounding Big Tobacco, and I'll also be paying attention to climate and energy legislation.  I'll be researching Robert F. Kennedy Jr.'s fight against mountain top coal removal, perhaps the worst environmental travesty ever in America and one to which President Obama has paid little attention. In general, I'll be asking a little more outloud why America is so coal-dependent.  I may be West Virginian by birth, and I know coal is at the heart of the state's industry: but how many mining disasters do we have to see, how many people need to die of mining-related ailments and suffer lifelong debilitating health issues before we realize that there are other, better ways to fuel the state's economy (more training for a knowledge, not labor, economy, and nuclear energy are some examples). 

And I'll do these things because I care about the Earth, but more because I care about its people.  I never smoked so much as a puff of a cigarette in my life, yet I know what it feels like to be suffocating.  And that feeling, rather than make me sad, empowers me to want to say: You do not have a right to smoke around me.  You do not have a right to pollute my air or my water with your industrial waste.  You do not have a right to rape the Earth by whatever means necessary to access a fossil fuel on which our dependency must wane. 

To that end, every day has to be Earth Day, because shaking our heads and wondering about how change is going to come isn't going to make any kind of a difference.  And I refuse to leave my kids with an Earth dirtier than the ones my parents left me. 

*****

This post was inspired by National Geographic's Green Guide to Family Living.  I was given a copy of the book for the purposes of inspiring the above post; I was not compensated in any other way nor required to write anything specific.

While participation in the Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Club specifically does not involve reviews, I always add a note regarding whether or not a book is worth reading or purchasing.  In this case, my answer is: maybe.  Since it's a "green" book, I don't think you should buy it; I think you should borrow mine or check it out of the library -- unless you're a family who really isn't green at all yet, and then it's probably good to have around as a constant reminder.  I learned some new tips from it, like ways to encourage my Petunia to take meaningful action (letter-writing campaign opportunities, etc.), and it's always good to learn something new. 

Happy reading, and happy Earth Day!

On the possibility that our kids will be alright

In this post, I am participating in the Silicon Valley Moms Blog book club.  We read "the possibility of everything," a non-fiction memoir by Hope Edelman. 

Some days, I feel like we're living in a society where every parent thinks there's something seriously wrong with their kids.  I haven't read Judith Warner's new tome on the subject, "We've Got Issues: Children and Parents in the Age of Medication," but I'll tell you that I probably agree with her assessment, even though I'm no fan of Warner's over-sensationalism of these and other sensitive subject matters related to parenthood.  (I despised Warner's "Perfect Madness: Motherhood in the Age of Anxiety," but it was spot-on.)  We're smacking labels on kids like they're jars, not people, and we're giving them drugs to control their behavior.  This is f**ked up.  It's like parents of my generation (I'm 36) have thrown up their collective hands, crying: "They're all bad, and it can't be our doing, so something has to be done... see a doctor!  Get some Ritalin!  Give him more time on a test, because my kid is clearly gifted and is underperforming simply because of his condition."  That's right, folks: it's not our fault.  We live in an age (and for me, a place -- California) where kids aren't told no anymore -- heck, we can't even keep score in 4th grade basketball because someone might lose -- but we're not at fault for having kids that can't deal.  I apologize for being heavy on the sarcasm, here, but seriously?  I'm embarrassed that we parents aren't doing better -- without the drugs, without the special needs labels (some are legit, but many aren't), without the behavioral psychologists and the special sports rules and the "kid gloves."  Let's get real, people; our kids aren't acting "normal" because their lives aren't "normal."  Until we're willing to let them walk to school and play outside and have less-full schedules ... until we let them experience wins and losses and successes and failures ... well, until then (and we'll never get back there at this rate), we might as well throw our hands in the air.  We're not letting them be children, so there's no wonder that Warner's books hit home some salient points about parenting these days going over the top and over the edge. [end rant]

With all of the baggage (ahem, see above) that I bring related to today's parenting stage, it was with great trepidation that I began to read "the possibility of everything," a memoir that, among other things, delved into a family's experience with a shaman treating their three year-old's ailments: croup and an imaginary friend. (I rolled my eyes: we're treating imaginary friends now?!)  Edelman's memoir is as much a travelogue of her family's trip to Belize as it is a snapshot into parenting her 3-something year-old daughter, Maya.  It's a tale that unfolds beautifully: lush descriptions of scenary intertwined with information on the history of bush doctors/shaman ... and, underlying it all, is the neurosis of a mother who really can't understand her child's behavior without help.  (It's my belief that, had Maya been a second child, the behavior would've been less disturbing and the experiences in the book may not have occurred.)  "Neurosis" may seem like a strong term, but Edelman has a lot of anxiety, fears and self-doubts that she openly shares -- something I really liked about the book.  So many mothers pretend like they have the parenting thing down pat and are "practically perfect in every way" (to quote Mary Poppins).  Edelman offers no pretense: she is what she is, and she has her hands overfull with one little Maya.  More than anything, Edelman entered the story wanting a vacation; she leaves it having transformed from over-anxious to laid-back, just like one enters and leaves a vacation.  But the source of the transformation isn't just a trip to Belize and a handful of days in the sun; it's in how her connection to her daughter transforms with outside forces, the intervention of faith that perhaps some things are out of our control and can be made better simply because we're willing to believe that they can get better (that, and a flower bath, which I think could cure a lot of what ails me!). 

For me, the book inspired me to think about parenting today (again, see rant above) and the lengths I would go to if I thought something were wrong with my kid -- but also, the perspective I have on what's "wrong" and what just "is."  I remain unconvinced that the imaginary friend in Edelman's book was really a problem, but at least Edelman's response wasn't to have the kid assessed seventeen ways from Sunday, in therapy and on drugs by age four.  Thank God for that, because there are too many taking the other option. 

At the end of the day, dwelling in possibility is much better than today's feelings of impossiblity, and perhaps that's why I enjoyed the book so very much.  If we all just have a little faith, and cast aside societal pressures and preconceived notions of how things are supposed to be -- if we just pay a little more attention and, for God's sake, relax a little -- I think we'll come to the place that Edelman finally reaches at the end of her book.  Maya's going to be alright; and all of our kids are going to be alright -- but only if we believe in that possibility.  Is that too high a bar?  I'm off to read Warner's book (grudgingly), and I'll try to answer that question for you afterward!

I always add a note on whether or not I'd recommend this book, and I'm thrilled to reply with an enthusiastic yes.  It's billed as a memoir, but it could be read as a limited travelogue on Belize; anyone who enjoys exposure to and learning about another culture would enjoy it.  It's also great for anyone interested in alternative medicine, parenting in general, or stories of leaps of faith.  I'll be hanging onto it as a re-read -- something I don't do very often, so that's high praise from me. 

Disclaimer: I received a complimentary copy of this book.  I did not commit to reviewing the book at all, let alone favorably, and am not being otherwise compensated for participation in this or any other book club.

Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Club: Mominatrix

In this post, I'm participating in the Silicon Valley Moms Blog book club.  This time around, we read "The Mominatrix's Guide to Sex: A No-Surrender Advice Book for Naughty Moms" by Kristen Chase.  Ummm... yeah. 

I couldn't think of what to title this post.  I couldn't even think about what to write in this post.  My mom, my mother-in-law, and, occasionally, my husband's boss read this blog... and so does my husband, who didn't know this book was in my possession until right about now.  My writing on this subject matter isn't exactly something I wish to share with any of these people (and no, Guv, you can't see the book.  Down boy!).  I'm really curious what my sisters in blogging are going to write about, and who their audience is ... While I feel pretty much like keeping silent on the subject, I do, however, want to wax philosophically on the topic at hand.

There seem to be two camps when it comes to sex-talk: hyper-sexualized and it's none of your darned business.  At BlogHer '09, there was a "Room 704" party during which adult toys were distributed ... and anyone trying to get close to the swag bag table risked losing their teeth, because, IMHO, my girlfriends were all about the anonymity of the gifties.  Getting a vibrator without having to mail-order?  Score!  I walked away (well, maybe I ran a little) without a bag, because these women were scary.  And if I want a toy, there are plenty of shops in San Francisco, thank you very much... I don't need to fight you for it.

Beyond BlogHer, there are the parties.  I used to get invited to Tupperware, then scrapbooking, then lingerie, and now... there are those toys again.  Even my retiree mom has been invited to one.  I'm wondering: is it a good thing that our social norms are becoming less prudish, or is this all just a little too French for my comfort zone?  The pole dancing class at my gym sure as heck isn't about weight loss... what in the world is going on here?!

I know what's not going on: talk of this subject in a public forum, at least not among my girlfriends.  The only time we chat about it is if someone's pregnant, trying to get pregnant, or trying to find a way to never get pregnant again.  I have a feeling that the boys behave differently, and, in that vein, perhaps Kristen Chase is onto something here.

But the other thing I think is that there seems to be an assumption that once you're married with kids, you're out to pasture, else why would a book like Mominatrix need to be written? 

I don't know... or I'm not sharing.  But I will add my note on whether or not the book is worth reading: maybe... depends on your needs, or your partner's, I guess.  Bury it in a drawer, though, because I opened mine in full view of my kids, and the one who can read asked why I was reading a book about naughty moms.  Whoops!

When life gives you suppositories

In this post, I am participating in the Silicon Valley Moms Blog Book Club.  We read "See Mom Run" subtitled "Side-Splitting Essays from the World's Most Harried Moms" by Beth Feldman.  In response, we are coming up with our own side-splitting stories.  This story was originally posted on my now-retired Vox blog in July of 2008.  Try as I might to come up with a new side-splitting story, this one is the funniest in my toolbox -- even funnier now, as I have a pre-pubescent daughter who would be extra-embarrassed if this happened in front of her today!  Here's the tale:

At the pool this afternoon, Dash saw a lifeguard wearing blue latex gloves to pick up trash. 

He exclaimed, at the top of his lungs, "MAMA, WHO NEEDS BUTT MEDI?" 

I tried to play it off, but the naive 16 year-old lifeguard sensed that he was being addressed, and he approached.  "What did he say?" the lifeguard asked.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," was my quiet response.

Apparently, Dash didn't want his mother to speak for him.  He pointed at the lifeguard's hands and rephrased, "Why do you have to give somebody butt medi at the pool?"

Again, the lifeguard asked, "What did he say?"

So I explained, "When Dash gets a fever, we give him suppositories to control the fever. He associates those gloves with the administration of the suppository."

Oh, my, but the lifeguard didn't get it.  "What's a suppository?" the sweet, naive, soon to be red-faced boy asked.

"Medicine inserted in the..." I began.

"BUTT MEDI!" Dash interrupted.

"Ohhhhhh," the guard muttered as he turned red and resumed his trash duty.  I was going to make some joke about being raised in West-by-God-Virginia and/or the movie Deliverance, but all I could manage through my giggles was the banjo riff... duh duh dah dah dah dah dah dah...

*****

Though the Silicon Valley Moms Blog book club does not do book reviews, I always add a note regarding whether or not this is a book I'd recommend.  In this case, I think "See Mom Run" is a fun mom-to-mom gift, or even a good gift for a new mom; I'll be passing it along to a friend who's pregnant with baby #1.  The essays aren't as side-splitting as I'd hoped, but they're amusing anecdotes worth a quick read -- as are many of the blogs from which the contributors came. Look 'em up!

Disclosure: I received a copy of the book for free for the purposes of this book club discussion.

The Box Project

In this post, I am participating in the Silicon Valley Moms Blog book club.  This time around, we read "Do One Nice Thing" by Debbie Tenzer.  Our book club doesn't do book reviews but, rather, encourages us to write a response to what we read.  In the post below, I share my goals for teaching my kids kindness, highlighting our ongoing experience with The Box Project.

Of all of the things I hope to inspire in my children, kindness tops the list.  They may be nationally-ranked tennis players, virtuoso musicians, and Yale-educated Rhodes scholars someday -- but none of that will matter a whit if they're not good people.  My kids lead easier lives than most, and, while I never want them to feel bad about their good fortune, I want them to be aware of it -- but, at the same time, I don't want to raise little "limousine liberals" either.  Aware of that fine line, I seek to model empathy for my kids the same way my parents did for me.  I remember how my mom volunteered through a local food pantry; with her in rural West Virginia, I made some of those deliveries to families whose living conditions remain deplorable.  I also noted how my mom would help others on occasion anonymously and of her own accord, like by leaving healthy groceries on a doorstep of a down-on-her-luck single mom down the street.  My grandfather, with an eighth-grade education and a GED, spent his first decade of retirement teaching others to read.  Had I not seen my own family in action while at an impressionable age, I wonder... would I care this much that people had their basic needs met? 

With Dash, then 3 and a bit of a hellion, and Petunia, then 8 and ready to take on the world, I wondered how I could model the volunteerism my family had modeled for me.  Our school district has a fantastic program that offers regular service opportunities for kids; Petunia participates, but there's no real family involvement.  While I was mulling through our options, a friend posted on Facebook about her involvement in The Box Project, a family-to-family non-profit organization which matches families living in extreme rural poverty in America with sponsoring families who mail them a box full of necessities each month.  Perfect, I thought; this is a way our family can make a real difference in another family's life long-term. 

I applied to join the Box Project and, within weeks, received a match family.  Our family lives on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota; they are Lakota Sioux.  The mother, Berta, has three kids, H (girl, 11), J (girl, 7) and N (boy, 2).  Pine Ridge is the poorest reservation in our country, with unemployment above 80%; its residents lack a lot of resources that we take for granted.  The grocery store and shopping (only a WalMart) is 45 minutes away, and there is no bus service.  There is also no library.  Middle schoolers (like H) go away to boarding school on the reservation if they're lucky; it's not a banner education, but they learn the crafts and language of the Lakota Sioux in order to keep their tribe alive.  Winters are awful, and a lot of families don't have heat unless they chop wood.  I lucked out; my family's mom has a one-bedroom apartment with all utilities, so I didn't have to figure out how to get cords of wood delivered in the dead of winter.  Instead, I could focus on their other needs.  Warned by friends that "they'll just be out to get your money," I proved them wrong, still carrying with me the letter that Berta first sent me... "We have so little that anything you send will help a great deal," she wrote.  "Mostly right now I need socks and underwear for the children, and, when it gets cold, another blanket might be nice.  More towels, too, so we don't have to share."  I had to press her for more information than that and came to find out that she had only one pan and no cooking utensils.  A year later, Berta still hasn't asked for much without prodding, so I've learned to send her a questionnaire and a stamped envelope to return after receiving each monthly box; this way, I know if the kids have school supply needs, if anyone has a birthday coming up, and if clothing and shoe sizes change.

While we were preparing our first boxes to this family, we also made several trips to the library, trips during which Petunia checked out books on the Lakota Sioux, learning about Wounded Knee and much more.  She's also learning a lot from the letters we receive from the family, and she's making friends with the oldest girl through being a pen-pal.  Four year-old Dash, who I thought might not be ready to help yet, knows there's a little boy in the family, so each box has one of his Matchbox cars tucked inside, just like every box has something picked by Petunia for each of the girls, often a hand-me-down shirt or a hair accessory.  I don't take my kids out shopping for the family, but, rather, I encourage them to look at what they have and think about what others might need.  Not only are we helping a family who really needs it, but we're stockpiling a lot less clothes, toys and, yes, even cooking utensils.  It feels good to be helping, and perhaps I'll be setting my kids up for a lifetime of remembering that, if you have too much, there's always someone who needs it more than you do. 

If you are interested in joining the Box Project, please visit their website, www.boxproject.org.  The Box Project has been fighting poverty in rural America since 1962. 

I also always add a line about whether or not I'd recommend the book we read, and, in this case, I offer an enthusiastic YES!  "Do One Nice Thing" is a great way to foster the spirit of giving in your home, or to gain some new ideas if you're fresh out.  Enjoy!

On adaptability

In this post, I am participating in the Silicon Valley Moms Blog book club.  This time around, we read “What Happened to the Girl I Married?” by Michael Miller, a tale of a husband/dad who stayed home for a while to see how his wife’s life at home changed her.  The post below is my response to the book, inspired by conversations with my husband (the Guv) that took place in reaction to the story.

Every so often, I feel like I have some sage wisdom to impart as someone who met her life partner at age 16 (he was 18).  Sometimes, that wisdom is “don’t search for a life partner at 16” … but, then again, who can tell when lasting love will plant its roots in two hearts?  As the Guv and I grew together – grew up together, in some senses, as we were still kids --  the most abiding truth of our relationship became apparent and strong: if we were to survive together, we would have to be adaptable.

What does adaptability mean?  The thesaurus throws out words like “flexible” and “changeable” as synonyms.  To me, though, the adaptability required of a relationship is more than a word with a definition: it’s a lifestyle.  It’s not only knowing, but accepting, that your partner will change over time.  People don’t typically stay as they are forever.  For example, when I met the Guv, he was going to be a history teacher; my goal was a life as a government prosecutor ending with a seat on the Supreme Court.  Fast forward nearly twenty years, and the Guv has an MBA and works in finance; I never obtained a law degree but have a graduate degree in education.  Neither of us is in the field we imagined entering college.  Instead of having the four children we planned, we have two.  I am an at-home mom, which I never would’ve dreamt I’d become.  And while we’re a lot different than we were in our younger and more foolish days, one thing is constant: we love each other.  We accept each other.  And when one of us grows in a different direction, the other adapts.

That’s not to say that we don’t have our fair share of frustrations.  Intimacy changes, ahem, after a couple of kids, and often neither one of us is satisfied with the time we get (or don’t) alone together.  Often, I get frustrated because I want to be alone, as in by myself – something you don’t get a lot of as a SAHM.  There are times that I feel like we’re waging battles over whose job is harder and more exhausting.  But at the end of the day, it’s not a competition – it’s a zero-sum game.   We actually don’t fight much, because I think he “gets it” without having had to walk a million miles in my shoes; and I’ve worked, so I appreciate his stress.   We also keep a countdown calendar for the youngest’s departure to boarding school.  It helps to know that someday we’ll be free!

So if my husband asked, “what happened to the girl I married?” he’d have a fair set of answers.  Of course I’m not the same!  (Nor is he!)  My day is longer, my fuse is shorter, I’m tired a lot and I still can’t keep house worth a damn.  We still stay up too late talking about anything and everything, and sometimes we disagree and, on occasion, make up, too.   I’m not exactly where I want to be in life, though he’s pretty sure he is; if I need a hand getting to wherever I’m going, he’ll be there to lend it.  But he won’t have to go searching for me, for I’ll be sitting on the couch right beside him – me, in version 2.0 perhaps, but the same me as ever, just as he’s the same him.

I enjoyed reading “What Happened to the Girl I Married?” because it prompted me to have a discussion with my husband about the things that have changed and the things that haven’t.  We both laughed at how husbands sit around and ask “what does she do all day?” because he knows that my to-do list grows at a rate 2x of its shrinking.  He (usually) has a sense of humor about it, and so do I.  One day, the kids will be gone, and we know we’ll look at each other triumphantly, crack open a great bottle of wine, and remember those chaotic days when the babies ruled the roost.  We know we’ll make it to that point because we adapt to our circumstances and don’t get mired down in them.  That, to me, is the key to a good marriage: sticking together, and rolling with whatever comes your way.

Would I recommend the book “What Happened to the Girl I Married?”  Sure -- if only to prompt the discussion that my husband and I had.  Truth be told, it’s a better essay than a book; it’s short, and it doesn’t have any data in it.  (Data would make it a whole different kind of book, and I’d love to see the author flesh it out that way in book 2.0!)  It’s one couple’s story, and it’s fascinating to read in the same way that it’s entertaining to watch reality TV – but their problems are not mine, and I can’t really relate much to some of their issues, like the author’s fear of his wife leaving him for someone who appreciates her more.  (Note to posterity: if I ever leave, it’d just to be left ALONE!  But I won’t.)  That said, the main things that bugged me about the book are two-fold: one, we don’t know where his wife is in all of this; and two, we anticipate that she is still a SAHM with him as a SAHD, which means that she’s probably behind him with a broom and dustpan cleaning up his attempts to “fix” things in their house.  (Just kidding – well, not really.  That’s what happens when MY husband tries to process-improve!)  It’s a book written by a well-intentioned husband, and for that reason, I give it a thumbs-up – and already have one girlfriend waiting to read my copy.

On comfort food

Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Club: "comfort food" a novel by Kate Jacobs

It is very, very rare that I set down a book with misty eyes and a fervent wish that the protagonist were real, yet that is exactly how I felt at the end of "comfort food."  The star of the book (and her own TV shows), Gus Simpson, is one of the most likable literary characters I've ever encountered.  I envision her as Allison Taylor (played by Cherry Jones) on TV's 24; they are both women who know their position and hold themselves with a confidence that seems, at times, tenuous but is actually much more substantial.  I have long hoped to grow into a woman of such presence that comes from experience.

So why would I want to know celebrity chef Gus Simpson?  It all goes back to my newlywed days, those years in Boston when the Guv and I were both wasting our youths working eighty-plus hour weeks.  When I did roll home late-night, I'd be too tired to sleep right away, so I'd cobble together something that barely passed for dinner and flop down on the couch, usually in front of the Food Network.  Those were the late-90s, and Emeril Lagasse was always on late.  I could watch him make real food while I plowed through leftover fried rice and Twizzlers.  I loved to bake, and I excelled at it -- but I hated cooking, and, well, my husband can tell you those horror stories.  I was intrigued by those who not only cooked but cooked with excitement and passion.  Whenever I could, I caught the excitement in real life by eating at Todd English's Olives restaurant in Charlestown, long before there was more than one Olives... Those were the days when Todd himself would swing by your table to make sure your meal was exceptional.  He was young and nervous, and so was I. 

Fast forward a dozen years, and, like Gus Simpson, I'm a little more confident with myself and with my kitchen.  I've taken a few classes, most recently one with Silicon Valley chef extraordinaire Pamela Keith.  Finding myself far from my beloved free-form lasagna at Olives, I now enjoy dining at Calafia when I can.  Bluntly, it's no Olives (and my wallet is somewhat glad of that), but I enjoy watching former Google chef Charlie Ayers in his kitchen.  He delighted my daughter recently when he overheard our remembrances of dining at Wagamama in London and stopped at our table to tell us how he loved Wagamama too, and how his experience eating there inspired Calafia's communal table.  At the end of the day, whether it's Todd English, Charlie Ayers, or the (unfortunately) fictional Gus Simpson, I like meeting real chefs (celeb or not) because we share a common love (even if my skill set is eating rather than cooking): good food in good company.  They pay as much attention to their restaurant tables as I do to my family table.  My appreciation for that comfort -- in setting and in food -- runs deep. 

So what does this have to do with the book "comfort food"?  Nothing, yet everything all at once!  I feel like Gus Simpson would want to hear of my relationship with food and my appreciation of the artistry and entertainment value of it.   Watching as her life unfolds in this book, I can't help but think of how mine has unfolded in terms of food and jobs and children as well.  One particular quote in the book stands out in that regard.  Author Kate Jacobs writes, "His actions had ultimately reminded her that change is nothing to be afraid of, that taking risks sometimes leads to unexpected dividends, and that even her mistakes could result in welcome discoveries." (p. 326)  If that isn't applicable to all of our life experiences, I'm not sure what is!  Gus is a character who overcomes adversity with admirable aplomb, who chooses to find her happy place amidst the chaos of everyday life (hers even more so, as some of it is lived on TV).  

And that is where I leave "comfort food" on my shelf, with a warm and fuzzy feeling that when life veers in an unexpected direction -- like, for us, from East Coast to West -- sometimes it can be a very good thing.  (Is it ever!)  As for mistakes resulting in welcome discoveries... well, I still have to take some more cooking classes, else the Guv and the kids will end up in need of medical attention.  But just as Gus learns that she can do things differently, well, so can I.  For leaving me with such a happy feeling, I thank the author and Chef Gus.  What a fantastic story!

I couldn't recommend this novel more highly, so click here to pick it up from Amazon for an ultimate summer read; personally, I'll be picking up other books by Kate Jacobs as well.  I also enjoy culinary mysteries and can recommend a few authors and characters who I think are close to as fun as Gus Simpson.  They are: Laura Childs' Tea Shop mysteries featuring Theodosia Browning; Joanne Fluke's Hannah Swenson mysteries in which Hannah owns "The Cookie Jar"; Diane Mott Davidson's books featuring caterer Goldy Bear; and Susan Wittig Albert's China Bayles series in which China owns an herb shop and a tea room.

On chagrin

  Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Club: "Much to Your Chagrin" by Suzanne Guillette

Picking up this book, I found the subtitle "A Memoir of Embarrassment" intriguing.  After all, aren't we all a little bit nosy by nature, rubbernecking at car accidents, gawking at the screaming child in the grocery store?  Truth be told, I am not often one of those people standing by the sidelines; I find myself becoming too embarrassed for the person.  I remember once watching a Superbowl in which the outcome depended on a kicker's kick, and he missed.  I'm still not over it.  Were that my son, I'd probably have needed a lot of therapy.

So when given the opportunity to reflect on my own embarrassment, I dug deep, but I came up with little.  While Suzanne Guillette appears comfortable sharing tales of crapping her pants in her friend's car, I can't go there (not that I've ever done that, anyway).  And that "crap" theme in the book just keeps coming back.  I kept thinking, these are not children!  Doesn't anybody have an embarrassing story that doesn't involve bodily fluids?  Not so much, it appears. 

Ms. Guillette suggests that folks who don't have tales of embarrassment to tell are probably lying, and she may be right.  Since I believe that there is such a thing as TMI, I'm not going to spill my guts here.  But my favorite embarrassing moment that I ever witnessed was in junior high school, when my BFF went down a super-steep water slide at a crowded park and arrived at the bottom with her two-piece swimsuit in tatters -- the bottom half clear up her behind and the top half rolled up and exposing her hooters.  Can you imagine the pre-teen horror?!

Sadly, I'm sure I'll have many embarrassing moments to come, especially as my daughter is already pre-pubescent, and the very act of my waking up and existing seems to embarrass her on some "off" days.  And that is why I blog... to share those moments with the world.  If I have to suffer through puberty yet again, then, darn it, y'all are going to suffer with me.

In closing, I always add a note for these book clubs on whether or not I'd recommend this book.  The answer is: sure, especially for a light summer read.  The tone in which it's told (it's all in the second person "you") bugged me a bit, but you get over that after a few chapters.  And yes, as some critics suggests, it's a bit ego-centric -- but, after all, it is this writer's journey of discovering more and more embarrassing tales in her own life as she's writing the stories of others', so there is room for ego in this book.  At the end of the day, I appreciate any read that makes me reflect on the ways I've lived (and am living) my own life -- and this one hit a soft spot for me, as, like the author, I entered my 30s in the same neighborhood of New York City, also as a graduate student, though commuting with the bridge-and-tunnel crowd.  I dug especially deep in those years for an embarrassing story but instead came up with so many happy memories of my time in the Ivory Tower, especially as I'm deploying the skills I learned there daily in fighting some local math wars at present.  And now, back to that...

Who by family

Silicon Valley Moms Group Book Club: "Who by Fire" by Diana Spechler

Today, I am participating in the Silicon Valley Moms Group book club.  For today’s club, we read “Who by Fire,” a novel by Diana Spechler.  It doesn’t do the novel justice to summarize it briefly, but, mainly, it’s a book about sibling relationships.  The back cover describes the story as “what happens when people try to rescue one another.”  This post is not a book review; rather, I will sharing my thoughts on that family rescue issue as presented in the story.  First, though, I offer a note on my own reading habits: Often, I read fiction to escape from my real life, and my usual mental vacation involves mystery stories.  Depending on my mood, I pick light mysteries (culinary tales by Joanne Fluke or Diane Mott Davidson) or denser mysteries (like Jane Haddam’s Gregor Demarkian series).  There’s a reason that I don’t like “family issue” novels.  For one, let’s face it – there is no family without its own issues.  I don’t need to read about others’!  As well, I often find the characters extremely messed up and unlikable.  Bluntly, I found this to be the case with “Who by Fire.”  I was rooting for none of the main characters in the book; in fact, I actually strongly disliked the brother-sister pair (Ash and Bits) on whom the story centers.  All that said, the reason that this book made such a strong impression on me is that, throughout the story, I found myself asking the question: for whom would I go to the ends of the earth?   To a mother, the answer to that question is simple: my kids.  In my case, I would also go to the ends of the earth for my husband, my partner since I was 16 years old.  But who else?  My siblings?  My parents?  My grandparents?  What about aunts, uncles, cousins?  Friends?  Beyond that, who constitutes my family, anyway?

The whole concept that we “owe” our “blood kin” a commitment exceeding what we owe to others close to us is one that is difficult for me to grasp – perhaps because I was fortunate to be raised by a loving stepfather who is not my “blood kin” at all, but who is unquestionably as much “family” to me as my own mother.  Conversely, though, because a family member is “blood kin,” do we owe that person a specialy loyalty if they’re someone whose actions we don’t really like – who wouldn’t really be our friend?  In the book, the sibling pair Ash and Bits don’t like each other much and don’t approve of each other’s lifestyles, yet Bits – at her mother’s command – sets off to Israel to try to bring Ash home.  I felt like I was missing something there.  I know that I love much of my immediate family enough to want to help should they ever need it – but if my brother decided that he needed to go halfway around the world and become a different person, would I follow him and drag him back just because my mom wanted me to fetch him?  That’s not rescue, not to me – that’s invalidation, coercion, emotional abuse, or something like it.  I am not my brother’s keeper, though I would always extend a hand if he needed it (but only if he wanted it) – just like he has always extended one to me, flawed as I am.  At the end of the day, I think that our family is made up of those who believe in us as we are, who accept us as we are – not those who we need to change or to rescue no matter what the circumstance.  I don’t know many families who work like that, though – and perhaps that’s why books like “Who by Fire” are so popular in the end.

End note: Other “family issue” books that I’ve read recently and, to some extent, enjoyed are “The Corrections” by Jonathan Franzen and “Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim” by David Sedaris.