New York Timely Book Review

Reviews with moms in mind.

I managed to read two books this week. The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls and Twilight by Stephenie Myer.
The Glass Castle is a quick, short, shocker. Imagine Angela's Ashes if McCourt had ADD. She manages to give the reader a quick tour of her unconventional, poverty stricken upbringing. If you want to read about someone who grew up rougher than you did, or if you could envision the worst childhood ever and still give it some competition, this one's for you. Walls sprinkles some childhood magic with extreme dysfunction and somehow comes out alive and well. This reader was left hoping her little sister Maureen writes her side of the Walls family saga.

Why a mom should read it? It's a great parenting style gauge, if you end up identifying with the mother than you should probably just leave your children on the nearest church doorstep.


Twilight is geared toward the young adult but has found a following from all ages. I found myself reading out loud to my four year old but only because we were on vacation and our one Curious George reader lost it's punch after a day. Need I say she's hooked so don't ask to borrow, I'm saving my copy. My first impression after hearing so much about this intoxicating bit of vampire lore was, dang, this book is big and I have the attention span of a gnat lately. But no fear ! The vampires are hot and the font is large. Smooth read, she's got a heck of an imagination. Something creepy as hell about a 100 year old guy seducing a 17 year old girl, but I don't think you're supposed to connect those particular dots. Bella's a shell of a gal until Lestat, er, I mean Edward touches her with his cold, hard, bony, (now, now) hand and exposes (now, now) a world far beyond what she's ever dreamed possible. OK, face it, he's hot. In a Paris Hilton way, not a warm blooded creature way. I'm still debating pursuing the other three books, I have to admit I couldn't wait for it to be over. But I'm 40 and the only thing sucking the life out of me, oh, well, let's not go there.

Why a mom should read it? Because thanks to Meyer your 13 and up fruit of your womb is probably dreaming of that sun starved, pasty faced geek in the basement next door bending her to his will. And you might want to understand the sudden interest.

Today's PC moment

The premiere of Tropic Thunder was heavily protested by groups representing our mentally disabled citizens. From where I sit this includes the majority of us but I digress. Now this in itself certainly qualifies as righteous indignation. After all if a major movie is going to toss around insults then they deserve their free publicity, er, protesters. The main peeve is the use of the word retarded. It seems it was mentioned seven times in the movie, the "N" word however was only mentioned once, so I guess maybe we'll see some "N" word dubbing to appease our cerebrally challenged masses. Or whatever. Well anyway all this would be quite understandable except for one tiny, itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny, little fact.
Somehow I find the organizers of this protest using obviously disabled people waving signs that read "ARC" to make their point a tad more offensive than some politically incorrect comedy. I have to wonder if they told their charges ARC is the acronym for Association of Retarded Citizens while convincing them of the massive damage one vocabulary word can wreak on an impressionable psyche. Yea, yea, I know, no one says that anymore, yet ask anyone what ARC stands for and they'll tell you "Association for Retarded Citizens", except maybe the people actually holding those signs. Gee, wonder what happens when a gutsy kid, proudly wearing his ARC Tshirt, tells a witless bully he shouldn't say retarded? Talk about tough love folks. I mean really, who's running the marketing department over there nowadays? On a bright note they've obviously come a long way mainstreaming their staff.

Rebel

No not the Canon Rebel, nor the Nikon D40, what I have is the Olympus E-volt 510. I'm the rebel, went against the majority, the black sheep, the maverick. Threw caution to the wind and revolted against mass market consumerism ! OK, I was cheap. Got two lenses and live view. The one time the live view would've helped I forgot about it. Well anyway it's a fun camera, fun of course meaning the auto sucks, getting a good pic takes works, so my husband will barely touch it. My son's game so I at least still get pics of myself with my daughter now and then. While I realize five people read this blog I'd still be interested in hearing from fellow Olympians :) There now, the title makes me feel better.

Ruby

I realized there's no pic of Ruby, Rube, Rubella, Rooooby roooooooo, and the myriad names she completely ignores around here. And since she just ran off right before we're about to be hit by thunderstorms, I suppose now's a good time to get her in here while she's still officially our dog.

Pasta for fools

So it's a gorgeous 85 degree, breezy summer day, the AC is off to conserve energy dollars and the living is slow. The kids have this wicked sense of entitlement when it comes to dinner so can't avoid that hook. What does one make on a warm, lazy, fan cooled day? Why a hot, steaming, cheesy bowl of pasta e fagioli of course ! Also known as pasta fazool and yep, pasta for fools around here. I knew I was on the right track when my son responded with "really?! you haven't made that in ages" Read: you've been depriving me of a major food group. So here's today's version since I'm short on the usual prosciutto or pepperoni I like to stick in there.
Rather than the usual cannellini beans I found just one can of small white beans and lots of red kidney. Just saute those onions and garlic, drop a couple of cans of beans in there, add a can of crushed red tomatoes, chicken stock (or water and bouillon like I just did), carrots (baby here) and season to taste. Red pepper flakes are awesome sauteed with the garlic and onions, but I have a 4 year old so no fun there. I know, I know, what about dried beans ! or a real carrot ! Well you go to the soup pot with the ingredients you have, not the ingredients you wish you have. So simmer that pot for almost an hour (well the carrots can take a while) add water as needed, taste, taste, taste, and then get that pasta in there when there's about 10 minutes to go. You could keep the pasta separate but adding extra stock the next day to the goo is half the fun. If you do cook the pasta separate the water makes a nice starchy base too. Well that's it, my ad hoc summer day, um, heavy soup. Don't forget the parmesan, crusty bread and salad or you're basically feeding the fam hot starch.
Next heat wave I'll tempt the kids with another childhood favorite, Pasta E Piselli. Just look that one up, I won't ruin the recipe for you like I did with the fagioli.

Expectations

We all have them. Especially for our children, we say we just want them to be good people or happy or even settle for self supporting. I give birth to future Presidents and now I'm thrilled if they pass social studies, can name all 50 states or can recognize the color of the White House. It's a given our expectations rise and fall with report cards, behavior, test grades, potty training. Straight A's and it's "Harvard's site looks interesting, sweetie, let mommy show you Boston on a map". Miss the toilet a few too many times and we start to wonder if leaving a larger inheritance is in order. But a parent's expectations can't compete with the bar set for them by their little drill sergeants.
Children expect the world of us. Add in an extra galaxy and a parent might make a dent in living up to their standards. If our kids don't live up to our expectations we take the blame for our shortcomings in rearing them and smugly think we've raised the wisest children for finding their own way. When we don't live up to their expectations they spend a lifetime musing how they could've been a major leaguer if only dad had played catch with them once more. Or would've aced their SAT's if only mom had worked 3 jobs and sent them to private school. If you cooked dinner every night they were deprived of all the fast food fun their friends got to eat. If you didn't cook enough they blame you if they can't kick their Big Mac habit. If a decent parent did things right the reward is their 30 year old reminding them every Thanksgiving about the time mom threw his comics away for not cleaning his room; or the prom dress that made her feel like a third grader. If a parent totally screws it up Thanksgiving is a solo dinner in a diner and, if they're lucky, an email or voicemail message. Our children consider us almighty parents, not people, we're destined to fail the minute we hold that baby in our arms for the first time. That's the point, to raise people better than we are so that they might judge us and find us wanting. The only goal is to fail without setting the future adult up for years of trashing us in therapy. Rare and blessed are the parents that hear "it's OK mom and dad, you're only human".

Photo Magic

Thanks to my goto gal for photo editing,CA Girl in 10-OC, Ky looks even better, so does the butterfly, probably didn't appreciate being left out of auto focus. Dianne, you got mad skills girl !





Looks like my 4 year old isn't the only one impressed by a butterfly.





We visited the barn. What do you think 10 OC, can we pretty up this one too?




What's that smell mommy?