Mommy Brain

The Adventures of Ratman by Ellen Weiss
The Hidden Stairs and the Magic Carpet by Tony Abbott

The Adventure Bible for Young Readers
Iggie’s House by Judy Blume
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J. K. Rowling

Egermeier’s Bible Story Book: A Complete Narration from Genesis to Revelation for Young and Old by Elsie E. Egermeier
Favorite Poems Old and New selected by Helen Ferris
Wonders of Nature
Virgie Goes to School With Us Boys by Elizabeth Fitzgerald Howard
For You Are a Kenyan Child by Kelly Cunnane
Edward and the Pirates by David McPhail
The Little Fish That Got Away by Bernadine Cook
Froggy Gets Dressed by Jonathan London
Swamp Angel by Anne Isaacs
Sweet Dream Pie by Audrey Wood and Mark Teague
Roxaboxen by Alice McLerran
The Poky Little Puppy by Janette Sebring Lowery
Weslandia by Paul Fleischmann
Bea and Mr. Jones by Amy Schwartz
The Rag Coat by Lauren A. Mills

“It’s a truth universally acknowledged that a woman with a long reading list must be in want of more books to read.”

Found this wonderful little gem at Staci’s place. It fits me so well!

My bio page is up at 5 Minutes for Mom. This is really a great service, you should check it out if you’d like more exposure for your blog and a way to find other mom blogs. Be sure to scroll down and click on the interview link.

I finished Good Grief by Lolly Winston today. I started it Thursday night, wanting something new to read when waiting at the doctor’s office Friday. This is not the book to take into a waiting room if you are at all embarrassed by crying or laughing out loud over a book in public. I picked this up on a whim at Barnes and Noble and I’m so glad.

Good Grief tells the story of Sophie Stanton, widowed at age 36.

How can I be a widow? Widows wear horn-rimmed glasses and cardigan sweaters that smell like mothballs and have crepe-paper skin and names like Gladys or Midge and meet with their other widow friends once a week to play pinochle. I’m only thirty-six. I just got used to the idea of being married, only test-drove the words my husband for three years: My husband and I, my husband and I… after all that time being single!

I think we all have an idea in our heads of what grieving looks like. I know that as Christians we have the hope of eternal life, and yet grieving is still a very real process. For some reason, people like to put a time limit on mourning: “It’s been a year now, shouldn’t she be moving on?” But grief is messy - no one moves through each stage in a neat little progression like the books would have us think.

On my way home from work that night, I get in an accident: I’m broadsided by the holidays. It happens when I stroll into Safeway and see the rows of tables by the door stacked high with Halloween candy: Milky Way, Kit Kat, Butterfinger. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas. Stop, turn, run! I try to shove my cart toward produce, but it won’t go. One stubborn wheel tugs like an undertow toward the candy. I kick the cart and focus on my shopping list: eggs, milk, ice cream.

I make it safely to produce, but there the pumpkins lurk. Look! they shout. The holidays are coming! I spot the bunches of brown corn you can hang on your door and the tiny gourds - the bumpy acne ones and the clown-striped green-and-yellow ones. I lean into the cart for support. How can a place called Safeway seem so dangerous?…

…”Miss?” A clerk clutching a bunch of basil stands beside me. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He said miss and not ma’am. Sweet. There are streaks of cranberry red spots on his cheeks, and his nose shines. I try to think of something to say, a vegetable to inquire after. Instead I blurt: “My husband died.” Maybe this is the first time I’ve said this. I’m not sure. I think it is. Suddenly I’m crying, that little-kid gulping kind of crying, where you can’t catch your breath. The morning after Ethan died, I resented the mourners collecting in my living room. How could they fall into the role and accept Ethan’s death so readily? While they wept and carried on, I cleaned the house. Scrubbed the shower grout with a toothbrush and Clorox. Now I’m one of the howling mourners. But they’ve wrapped it up already, moved on.

Sophie knows how she’s supposed to act, what everyone expects of her:

I want to be a classy widow - a Jackie Kennedy kind of widow. Slim and composed, elegant and graceful. White gloves and a string of pearls. But I seem to be more the Jack Daniel’s kind of widow - wailing in the supermarket and mowing through the salad bar, hair all crazy like an unmade bed.

Lately, life requires so much self-discipline. While most people have a to-do list, I have a don’t-do list. Don’t eat Oreos until your gums bleed. Don’t sleep in your clothes. Don’t grab the produce boy’s teenage wrists and sob.

I am amazed that this is Ms. Winston’s first novel. It is well-written and poignant and funny and wrenching - sometimes all on the same page.

Isn’t there some way out of this? I wake up thinking in the middle of the night, desperate to negotiate a deal. Isn’t there some way around having to start this new life without my husband?

Maybe there’s been a mistake. A clerical error. Maybe the angel of death is a bumbling bureaucrat who took the wrong Ethan. “Oh, your Ethan,” the sweet volunteer in the daffodil-colored uniform behind the front desk at the hospital lobby would say if I called the hospital to check. “He didn’t die. He went home.” Then I’d climb into the Honda, drive back down to San Jose, and find Ethan in our kitchen waiting for me.

“I’ve been at the hardware store,” he’d say, shrugging and holding out a tiny brown bag of drill bits.

That’s it: My husband went to the hardware store for seven months. You know how men are!

During the first year after her husband dies, Sophie fights her way out of depression and finds comfort in reaching out to a young girl in need of someone to believe in her. She finds a new vocation and deals with the perils of being single again and she takes us along for every hilarious, crazy moment. Four stars.

Janice and Susan at Five Minutes for Mom have a free blog-listing service for mom blogs. You can find the details here.

Publishers acknowledge having buckled since the early 1980s to so-called multicultural “bias guidelines” demanded by interest groups and elected state boards of education that require censorship of textbook content to accommodate feminist, homosexual and racial demands.

The California State Board of Education was the first to adopt such guidelines in 1982, according to New York University education research professor Diane Ravitch in her latest book, “The Language Police.”

The California guidelines instruct textbook publishers and teachers: “Do not cast adverse reflection on any gender, race, ethnicity, religion or cultural group.” The board had informal “social-content standards” going back to the 1970s.

Publishers followed with their own editorial anti-bias guidelines, which banned words, phrases, images, and depictions of people deemed unacceptable — such as “man,” “mankind,” “manpower,” “men,” said to be sexist. Also banned are “able-bodied,” “aged,” “babe,” “backward,” “chick,” “fairy,” “geezer,” “idiot,” “imbecile,” “Redskin,” “sissy,” “suffragette” and “waitress.”

A team of 16 academic reviewers in Texas, the second-largest state market for textbooks behind California, last year found 533 factual and interpretive errors in 28 social studies texts submitted for adoption by the state board of education.

“Almost all of the books have deficient treatments of religion in general or of particular religious traditions, with the Christian tradition being almost uniformly the least well developed in all of the books.

“There is in all the texts a general tendency to see religion as just one trait among many cultural traits, rather than as a primary foundation of culture,” Mr. Gorman said. “In my own study of history and in my own personal experience, I have encountered many who are willing to give up their lives to keep or defend their religious faith, but rarely anyone who is willing to die for the right to eat pizza or dance the rumba.”

Historian David McCullough, who won two Pulitzer Prizes for his biographies of Presidents John Adams and Harry Truman, also calls school history and social studies textbooks “deadly dull.”

“It is as if they were designed to kill anyone’s interest in history,” he said in an interview. “A child made to read these books would ask, ‘What did I do wrong today that I am being so punished?’”

Okay, I keep finding more passages I want to quote, so I’m going to quit before I post the whole thing. Just click over and read the article.

Hat tip: The Homeschool Cafe

I’ve decided to join the Summer Reading Challenge. I’ve made less progress on my reading list than I’d like, so my goal is to read at least 18 books from my list between June 1st and August 31st. If you’re interested in joining the challenge, check out the details here.

My endocrinologist appointment was today and it went exactly the way I thought it would.

“Hmmm, we need to do some more tests because these test results are three months old.”

She did say, though, that my dopamine levels were high, but not as high as she sees in people with major problems. Since my CT scan came back normal and all other levels are normal, she wants to re-run the 24-hour urine collection test (oh, joy) and do a cortisol level test that is more definitive. I can’t do the tests for two weeks though, because I have to quit taking Tylenol for that long. I’ve been taking Tylenol almost every day due to the sinusitis issues, and now I have to switch to ibuprofen. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that this doesn’t bring back the stomach yuckies that have disappeared since I quit coffee three months ago.

Which, by the way, is what she thinks the problem is. She said that most doctors don’t realize how many systems of the body caffeine affects, and how long it can take the body to get back to normal. Especially after 17 years of daily caffeine intake and quitting cold turkey. Or the reaction to the sulfa could’ve kicked my body out of whack.

But, in summary, she doesn’t think there’s anything serious wrong, and just wants to do these two tests to make sure. If these come back normal, or with dopamine levels where they were before but no higher, then she will suggest to my regular doctor that he follow his plan to put me on an anti-anxiety drug until my body gets back into balance.

Going to see a doctor in the big city (okay, I know Spokane doesn’t really qualify, but for this small-town girl it does) is definitely different than seeing my regular doctor. Our family doctor is a kind, gentle Christian man who cares about my family. He always asks how Kevin and the kids are doing. He never makes me feel like I need to hurry up cause I’m wasting his time. When he comes into the exam room, he asks me how I’m doing and then he STOPS TALKING. He listens as I explain what’s wrong, taking notes and nodding, but NEVER interrupts. He doesn’t start asking questions until he’s sure I’ve said all I needed to say. He remembers my history - he knows about the c-sections, the gall bladder surgery, the past history of reactions to meds. He asks how the homeschooling is going. He asks if I’m getting enough sleep and time for myself. He delivered three out of our four children. Kevin and I have often said we’ll have to follow him if he ever moves out of the area because we’ve never had another doctor like him.

Today’s appointment was much different. The nurse, who never bothered to introduce herself, took me back to the room and very briskly took my vitals and asked some medical history. The same medical history that I had spent 15 minutes filling out in the waiting room. She didn’t even crack a smile when I made a joke about my list of medications to avoid. She sighed as if annoyed when I asked what my blood pressure was. She then informed me the doctor would be in “shortly”.

Evidently, “shortly” has a vastly different meaning in this woman’s mind than in mine. FORTY-FIVE minutes later, the doctor came in. The doctor who I could hear chatting with her nurse outside the door for a full fifteen minutes.

This doctor was younger than me. I don’t think I’m age-biased, but when I saw that the year on her graduation certificate was 2000, I felt very, very old.

But she seemed like a competent and capable doctor and said that my doctor had ran all the same tests she would have if I had come to her first. I knew he was good! Of course, this was after taking my medical history. You remember, the one I had filled out in the waiting room and that her nurse had written down before wandering off and forgetting about me.

So now we wait for more test results, but in the meantime I feel pretty confident that I am okay. I’m still having symptoms, but they seem to be slowly getting better and that’s fine by me.

Thanks for your prayers through this whole process. I’m hoping that I won’t have any health-related posts for a while!

Have a blessed Memorial Day weekend.

(This started out as a response to a comment, and I got long-wided, so here it is instead.)

Carol - I agree - we’ll never find a church that’s 100 % pro-Harry Potter, nor would I expect to. I would just like to find one where I don’t have to worry that if my daughter mentions she’s reading Harry Potter (or a dragon book or Greek myths, etc.) we’ll be shunned or lectured.

And Kevin (my husband) was actually referring to one of my sisters, who does have a tattoo, used to have a nose ring, and is against Harry Potter. We have decided not to let our daughter have her ears pierced until she’s at least 12 and told her why we believe tattoos and nose rings can be a symbol of association with the world. Yet, I don’t tell everyone else they’re sinning if they have one. I certainly don’t tell them they are opening themselves up to satanism, which is what I’ve been told when I mention that we enjoy Harry Potter. So yes, I could say we’re “against” tattoos and nose rings for our family, but I don’t think we come across as judgemental to those who have them. Does this make sense? I’m kind of rambling, I’m on my way out the door soon, but wanted to address your comment.

It’s the absence of intelligent dialogue that drives me crazy. If you’re against it because you’ve decided that way for your family, fine. But so many times the position is fear-based - people are so afraid of anything that other people say is “bad” that they won’t check it out for themselves.

Obviously there are things we should be against without checking them out for ourselves - these things are sins. I don’t need to commit adultery to know that adultery is wrong. But the gray area issues - we should know what we’re talking about before we make blanket statements about how bad or evil something is. Especially in a place where there is power and influence - like from the pulpit.

Carol, I appreciate your comment - and no it didn’t come off as offensive at all. Thank you for the nice things you said about my blog - I’m glad you enjoy it.

I’m on my way out the door to go to my endocrinologist appointment in Spokane. If any of you have time, please send up a prayer that if there’s “something else” to find that my main doctor missed, it will be obvious and she will know what to do. Thanks!

To make friends among Christian homeschoolers, that is. You’d think that these are the people I would have the most in common with, right? Let me show you why this isn’t true.

Today we went to our homeschool science class. We meet once a week and the kids love it. Today they experimented with gases, using dry ice, which of course was a huge hit with the boys. There are three other families whose children go to the class, all Christians. Although the class is not sponsored by Christians, it is held in a church.

After class, the kids were playing on the play equipment and I was visiting with one of the other moms. She had just been to the library, and so I asked if she was going to sign her kids up for the summer reading program.

She responded, “Yes, I think I will this year. I didn’t last year - one of the prizes was a Harry Potter book and the whole theme was about dragons, so we avoided it.”

Now, I’m sitting there thinking about how I wished Natalie or Noah would’ve won the drawing for the Harry Potter book cause it would’ve saved me the cost of buying it, and also about how the kids loved the dragon theme and enjoyed the (gasp) magician so much we went to see his show again over spring break. And I’m wondering if this potential friendship is worth the tremendous amount of effort it will take to explain my position on all things Harry Potter, magicial, medieval, dragonish, and anything else she might be offended by.

In my head, I come up with some possible openings:

“Do you like the Narnia and Lord of the Rings books? Why do you think those are acceptable but Harry Potter is not?”

“Have you ever actually read a Harry Potter book?”

“Why are you against dragons?”

And a few more that were overtly sarcastic.

Before I could open my mouth to say anything at all, Noah came running up and said, “Mom, can we stop by the library on our way home? I think my Pokemon book came in.”

I say, “Sure, we need to return a few things anyway,” and return my attention to the other mom in time to see the pursed lips and widened eyes. I can almost hear her internal monologue: Pokemon? Oh my gosh, what kind of mother is she? Doesn’t she know that Pokemon is demonic?

As she announces to her kids that it’s time to go, I cross her off my potential friends list. I just don’t have the energy to defend or explain our choices to someone I barely know. I have a few friends who I’ve already invested in and they are dear to me, and yes, we disagree about things. But the foundation has already been laid and the friendships are deep, so we agree to disagree. But why can’t I find fellow Christian homeschoolers in real life like I’ve found online? Christians who read, think, and learn for themselves. I have no problem with someone who has actually read Harry Potter (or seen Pokemon or Power Rangers or whatever the latest anti-craze is) and then decided that it’s not right for their family. I wholeheartedly respect that position. But I have no patience left for knee-jerk reactions based on something that people are not willing to check into for themselves.

I have one fairly new friend who is a Christian and happens to agree with me on this. She told me about a sermon a pastor gave at a church they previously attended. The pastor was preaching about that evil Harry Potter and that horrible J. K. Rowling, and how he had written the Harry Potter books in order to lure children into satanism. He? The man did not even know the gender of the author he was defaming from the pulpit. And of course he had never actually picked up a Harry Potter book or seen a Harry Potter movie. And yet I’d be willing to bet he jumped right on the Lord of the Rings and Narnia bandwagons.

One of my sisters has chosen not to “do” Harry Potter at her house, and she has never read the books or seen the movies. But, she respects my point of view and doesn’t try to convince me that I’m wrong or not truly a Christian if I don’t agree with her.

I long for friendships where I can have intelligent dialogue with people. No, we don’t have to agree on everything, but we should be able to converse and debate and learn from each other and not write each other off just because our media choices aren’t “Christian” enough. I like to think that I am willing to be taught, to change my mind about things if I find that I am wrong. Is it to much to ask for the same thing in other people?

And Clay - please go back to your real hair.

First of all, thank you for all your comments, ideas, and suggestions about my last post. I’m glad (well, sort of) to know that this seems like normal behavior for a 9-year-old. I do think that there are some changes going on, emotional or hormonal, because Natalie has not ever demonstrated a manipulative side before. I remember how confusing things were when I started through puberty, so I’m trying to be understanding while still remaining firm - and praying for patience like crazy.

I’ve resisted blogging about American Idol very much because I know that not everyone is as obsessive about it as I am. But I can’t resist tonight - in a little over two hours the winner will be crowned. (Actually, before that, but I’m on the western side of the United States, so I’m going to avoid the internet and pretend that it’s really happening live when they announce the winner at around 9:45 p.m.)

Here’s to Taylor Hicks - my pick for the next American Idol.

SOUL PATROL!