Hey! Nan at Things I’ve Found in Pockets gave me a-award (as my kids refer to receiving “an award”). Thanks, Nan!! I’ll linky-link love later.

Guess what I found in my son’s pocket this morning when I was doing laundry? That’s right — a rusty nail! Summer is here!!!!

me, on the phone with Hockey God a little bit ago: “Do you remember that time I was so sick on the plane flying into Belgium? And I couldn’t stop throwing up and wouldn’t leave the bathroom? And they almost couldn’t land the plane cuz I wouldn’t come out of the bathroom? That’s how sick I am, right now. Only without the throwing up.”

Hockey God, in perky Belgian accent: “Perhaps you are pregnant?” (Some of you may recall that that’s how we found out we were expecting our first baby — a perky, blonde Belgian stewardess told us. Also, the skinny-redheaded guy in that story? He’s now our brother-in-law. Ain’t love grand?)

And no, I’m not pregnant. I’m menopausal. Which is the same thing, just about, with the morning sickness, the mood swings, the weight losses and gains. Only it doesn’t end with sixty-five hours of labor and an unplanned (and 2 and a half years later, planned) c-section. Oh, no. It ends with sweet freedom from cramps and random pregnancies. Yes.

So, feeling a bit queasy and hormonal, I read these three great books, yesterday and today, but now I’m too sick to write real reviews. Suffice it to say — all three are fantastic. (When the hell do I get through three books in two days? That proves how excellent they are.) So check ’em out, you’ll like ’em. “Love Is a Mix Tape” is one of the most beautiful love stories I’ve ever read, written by rock critic Rob Sheffield for his late wife, Renee. He went through her mix tapes, his mix tapes, their mix tapes, and, with the help of their favorite music, wrote a love letter.

On watching an En Vogue video with his wife (where the band shimmies wearing foxy red dresses and his wife informs him, “They’re not wearing underwear”):

“There’s also a scene in the video where one of the guys in the audience slips his wedding ring off his finger and hides it in his pocket. Renee hated that scene, but I loved it because it reminded me that it was time to do the dishes. Whenever I did dishes, I had to slip off my wedding ring and put it on the microwave so it wouldn’t go down the drain. So, I think this is the perfect pop song — it reminds me of not wearing underwear, and it also reminds me of the dishes. What more could you want?”

It made me stay up til 1 a.m., this book, and then I had to have big nooky with my husband. I, too, ask: What more could you want from a book? (I think it was also cuz Sheffield quoted Bratmobile, which his wife liked to listen to while she wrote: “If you be my bride, we can kiss and ride / We can have real fun, we can fuck and run.”)

And for a very different kind of love letter… “Live Through This” is mother Debra Gwartney’s heartbreak memoir about her runaway daughters. It is a harrowing book, and it’s not truly heartbreak, because everyone is okay now. Even though I knew everything would end okay, it still flipped me out. Because, you know. I have a girl. And a boy. Let’s not be judging each other as parents, okay? Because you never know the whole story unless someone wants to share it with you. Thanks and love to Ms. Gwartney and her daughters for their fearlessness and compassion in sharing their story.

“The Passion of the Hausfrau” is (get this) a graphic novel by a mom, for women (and men will like it, too, I guarantee it. Also my 9-year-old just picked it up and looked through it, intrigued. A first, that she’s interested in one of my “mom” books). And by “graphic novel” I don’t mean “Wifey” or “Princess Daisy.” What motivated her? A jerk-o football player (biiiiiiig NFL star, BFD) from her hometown who “wrote” his memoir with the help of a ghostwriter and a life coach. Her mom gave her a copy of the “memoir” for her 39th birthday. What the heck is that supposed to mean? Well, two can play at that game, and Ms. Nicole Chaison doesn’t need the extra help, thank you. She wrote and illustrated it all by herself and it is spectacular.

Reading this week:

What we’re listening to at our house…

…and…

shoop, shoop, shooooooooooo…and, of course…

Steve did a little redesigning around here last night, what do you think? The flowers that pop up on the masthead are White Nancy (how apropos), petunias from backyard, lavender from our front yard and Love in a Mist (the space-agey flowers), which my son would like to inform you are “an invasive weed and you really need to pull them all up before they go to seed, Mom.”

I will defy him. I love Love in a Mist and I agree with the Internet that it is a charming, old-fashioned flower that blooms in spring and early summer. (When did 7-year-olds get so smart, anyway?) Thanks for the update, Steve-o. I’ll consider this an early birthday present. (Our other three blogs are next in line.)

Hey! Happy (early) Father’s Day to all you dads out there. (It’s late this year — June 21st.)

“Hop on Pop-Up” (from Dr. Seuss, of course, Random House, $6.99, unpaged) is a charming little version of “Hop on Pop.” We love “Hop on Pop” over here. What are some good gifts for Dad? A set of Slim Jim Swim Fins, how about, or a Bright Dwight Bird-Flight Night-Sight Light? He does not want a walrus, believe me.

“Wake Up, Papa Bear!” is a sweet little touch-n-feel book (by David and Maxwell Algrim, illustrated by Adam Relf, Random House Children’s Books, $9.99, unpaged). I love touch-n-feel books, it’s the 2-year-old in me. Papa Bear has scratchy feet, a leathery nose, and soft fur. The babies will love this one.

In “Where Did Daddy’s Hair Go?” (by Joe O’Connor, illustrated by Henry Payne, Random House, $14.95, unpaged) a good-natured dad tries to explain to his son how he lost his hair — but it’s not that kind of lost. Nice illustrations, and a good story, to boot.

Enjoy your Sunday, y’all!

Reviewed today:

My Psych 311 text and…

Interview with Rob Ingram in Portland Family (“We are people! By nature that makes us imperfect. Forgive often, love hard, laugh good and live life! Hey, it is supposed to be fun so why not enjoy it and why EVER let anyone else steal your thunder. Work hard, play harder!!!” Love that. Rob is a great guy and a force of nature in our community, thank you Rob for all of your hard work and wise words) and…

the Saturday Oregonian (why? I do not know) and…

Accidentally on Purpose, by Mary F. Pols and…

Whiteness as Metaprivilege.

May go to a BlogHer meet-up between 3-5 today at Posies, if I remember. Oh! And game 5 is tonight, Pens and whatever the name of that team is that they’re playing. Go, Penguins!

(PS — Brain, please come back. Mama needs you.)

To be a mountain you have to climb alone
and accept all that rain and snow. You have to look far away when evening comes. If a forest
grows, you care; you stand there leaning against
the wind, waiting for someone with faith enough
to ask you to move. Great stones will tumble
against each other and gouge your sides. A storm
will live somewhere in your canyons hoarding its lightning.

William Stafford

Peace to you, dear girl, and peace to our city.

Here’s an essay for you, since we’re talking housework. It’s from twelve years ago, it would appear, cuz Steve and I weren’t married yet. Living in sin, woot!

CHORES
by Nancy (more…)

Things my children have stolen from me that I would like back:

1) my scotch tape
2) my purple calculator, the cool smooshy one
3) my heart
4) my sanity
5) my standards for cleanliness

That’s right, it’s time for Cleaning Tips 101. (more…)