Reviewed today:

Sophie Kinsella is good. Good plotting, good characters, good reading. (And not just summer reading, either. She gets a rep for that because of her popular “Shopaholic” series, but I like to read her year round.) I loved “Remember Me?” even though I just dug through my archives and it looks like I forgot to review it. Whoops.

Her new one, “Twenties Girl,” (Dial Press) is a lot of fun. The set-up: a 20s-something woman, Lara Lington, who is in work and love trouble, is required to attend the funeral of her 105-year-old great-auntie, Sadie. Sadie, you would think, would be occupied. Being dead and all. But no — she is at the funeral (but seen only by Lara) and demanding to know the whereabouts of her necklace. Good reading.

Judy Blume’s latest, “Friend or Fiend?” (Delacorte Press, $12.99, 109 pages) stars two of my favorite Blume characters, the Pain and the Great One, aka first-grade Jake and third-grade Abigail. They still aren’t getting along that well, but they’re having a lot of fun, anyway. Blume also gives us the backstory of one Fluzzy, the cat the siblings fight over. What happened on that dark and stormy night? We enjoyed this one a lot at our house, especially the New York scenes with the Pain and the Great Ones hideous cousins. Perfect for readers up to fourth- or fifth-grade.

“Monsterology” (by Dr. Ernest Drake, edited by Dugald A. Steer, Candlewick Press, $19.99)… where do I start with the “‘Ology” books? We have several of them at our house, and enjoy them all. They’re big, they’re fancy, they’re not too expensive, and they’re not too precious. By that I mean — even with the fold-out maps, the “samples” of amber, hippogriff feathers, the “scrap of spell-casting parchment for attracting mermaids” and all the other oodles of goodies — they’re still usable. You can play with them, pore over them, really use and learn from them and they don’t (easily) fall apart at the seams. I like that in a book, especially a fancy one.

This one features several of Wacky Boy’s favorites: the Loch Ness Monster, the Hippogriff, the Mermaids and Mermen. We like the Griffins. We appreciate the “challenges to the charlatans.” And the map of “Fabulous Creatures of the World”? Fabulous. Nice work, team.

Whew! That’s right. A ginormous box of books arrived today… SUMMER READING. (more…)

MamaToo is gonna be MamaThree any minute now, and look what I found for her for presents… (more…)

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:

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.)

“Whenever I do something good, right away I’ve got to do something bad, so I know I’m not going to pieces.” — Paul Newman

You know what my husband is doing right now? Vacuuming, cleaning the house (nervous energy, I suppose) and otherwise getting prepared for the hockey game that starts at 5. Finally it’s the real Stanley Cup playoffs. Since it is two Eastern teams — Detroit and Pittsburgh — GO PENS! — silly me. I thought we were still in the pre-pre-playoffs, like we have been since last September.

I’ve heard that some are still watching NBA games but no sir, not over here. With all this free time on my hands, I have been liberally drinking pinot grigio, vodka lemonades and mojitos, admiring the petunias and watching the children jet around. Where do they get the energy? It’s been so hot here. Also… reading. Reading, reading and reading.

“Paul Newman: A Life” (Harmony Books, $29.99, 490 pages), is one of the best biographies I’ve ever read in my life, and I’m not just saying that because I used to work with the author, Shawn Levy. (Not the director, the writer.) He was always a decent guy to work with, plus a good reporter and movie critic, to boot. He did an outstanding job on this book, go buy two copies — no, three. Because you’ll need one for yourself, one for your mom or auntie, and one for your girlfriend. Men, you’ll need three copies, too. Because you know you secretly wish you were Hud, or Brick, or Chance, or Butch, or the hottie (literally) from “The Towering Inferno.” So, chop-chop, already.

And speaking of chop-chop? You know what he loved? Salad dressing (you already knew that. Red wine vinegar, olive oil, herbs, garlic, onion and ground mustard seed) over a bowl of chopped celery, or perhaps over a nice Caesar with romaine hearts, homemade croutons and sliced tomatoes. And popcorn. Dishpan after dishpan of hot, delicious, freshly-popped popcorn.

Even though he drank (like a fish), smoked (like a chimney) and raced cars (like a madman), I am convinced that he lived into his 80s because of all the salad and popcorn. I will continue to drink, but I will eat more popcorn and veggies. Chop-chop.

My only wish is that there would have been more pictures in the book. Even though Mr. Levy included two generous spreads of photos, c’mon. He was Paul Newman. We needed three or four sections of photos. Sigh.

“Sexiness wears thin after a while and beauty fades, but to be married to a man who makes you laugh every day, ah, now that’s a real treat.” — Joanne Woodward

And now… a little review for MotherTalk. The New York Times is just coming out with a Young Reader’s Edition of “Obama: The Historic Journey.” Oh, good. Lots of pix. (Maybe we need a Young Reader’s Edition of the Paul Newman book? Mmmm…) Great book — also available in an adult version. (Viking Children’s Books, $24.95, 94 pages.) My favorite quote:

The weekend before the inauguration, President-elect Barack Obama and his family had stopped to visit the Lincoln Memorial, studying the words carved into the marble. Considering his inaugural speech, ten-year-old Malia turned to her father and advised, “First African-American president. Better be good.”

My daughter and I are considering starting a mother-daughter book club at her school, so I turned to “The Mother-Daughter Book Club: How Ten Busy Mothers and Daughters Came Together to Talk, Laugh and Learn Through Their Love of Reading.” (HarperPerennial, $12.95, 296 pages.) (Tips include how to start your own club, reading lists and discussion guides.) We’re thinking “Twilight,” “Inkheart,” maybe an Edward Eager book, from the olden days? Any ideas?

Reviewed today:

And now, a funny YouTube clip of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward on “What’s My Line?”:

Did you realize, Internets, that it’s my late father’s birthday today? HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD, PEACE OUT.

Now let’s read and review some brand-new picture books, with our guest reviewer, 7-year-old hunka hunka burnin’ love Wacky Boy. He has taken a break from trying to make his sister wipe out on her skateboard and will join us shortly.

Princess Pig, written by Eileen Spinelli and illustrated by Tim Bowers, is a hilarious tale of a delusional little pig. Or is she…? (Alfred A. Knopf, 2009, $16.99, unpaged.)

Wacky Boy sez, “Even though boys aren’t into princesses, they will like this book. Good illustrations, and the story is funny. It’s a good book.”

The Sleepy Little Alphabet: A Bedtime Story from Alphabet Town, is written by Judy Sierra and illustrated by Melissa Sweet. (Alfred A. Knopf, 2009, $16.99, unpaged.)

Wacky Boy says of this one, “The ABC book is…. funny and cute. I will not give it to my cousin.” That’s so sweet! What a kind boy. (And we’re not keeping any of today’s books, by the by. I’ll add them to my school library in the fall.) (But we do love our books over here, don’t you know. It’s just — their mother is a librarian. Books need to come and go.)

“In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.”

— “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” T.S. Eliot, 1919

Do I own a copy of that poem? I do not. But I know it almost by heart. That, my friends, is the power of libraries. And the Internet. The Sleepy Little Alphabet really is a darling book. The text skips along, and the illustrations are lovely.

Ditto for Ten Days and Nine Nights, An Adoption Story by Yumi Heo. (Schwartz & Wade Books, 2009, unpaged, $16.99.) The drawings remind me of the work of one of my favorite illustrators, Maira Kalman. Our heroine marks a circle on the calendar. She has ten days and nine nights to wait until her new sister arrives. What will she do with her time? Really charming story about welcoming a new baby into the family.

Reviewed today:

And now, one of my dad’s favorite kid songs:

Awww, he loved this one, too, hippie that he was:

I love “Bad Mother: A Chronicle of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities, and Occasional Moments of Grace,” Ayelet Waldman’s new book. A copy of it showed up in my P.O. box — late Mother’s Day present, heh heh. So. Good. Review to follow; reading now. Hear her husband is a pretty good writer, too. HA! That’s a BOOK JOKE, people. She’s married to Michael Chabon. She’s the one the UrbanMamas and UrbanBaby mommies like to rip apart — in 2005 she wrote a column for the New York Times wherein she admitted to loving her husband more than her children.

Why?

Well, she figured that must be it, cuz she, unlike most of her mom friends, was still having sex with her husband. And enjoying it. WTF? Someone who likes to “F”? The nerve.

“In that essay I wondered about why so many of the women I knew were not having sex with their husbands, while I still was, and I concluded that it might be because they, unlike me, had re-focused their passion from their husbands or partners onto their children. I wrote, ‘Libido, as she once knew it, is gone, and in its place is all-consuming maternal desire.'”

Yep. That was the spark that started the fire.

Here’s her website if you want more. And if you’d like to hear her read the first chapter of the book, here ya go:

Love going out to Amalah’s dad, Miz Elliott’s family (whew), and (as always) my granny, who is having a very hard time. Thinking of you, Lib. You are one sweet woman.

I’ve read about a dozen fantastic books lately, and I need to pass them along (back to the library, and I’ve promised some to the moms at school.)

Alix Kates Shulman, who wrote one of my favorite novels ever, “Memoirs of an Ex-Prom Queen,” has written a stunningly beautiful memoir about her life with her husband, Scott York, after he sustains brain and physical injuries in a fall. It’s called “to Love What is” and it is a magnificent book. It was just what I needed to read right now.

I also just finished “The Shack,” by Wm. Paul Young and it was good, but it freaked me out pretty hard. Also answered — or led me to answers for — a lot of my questions. I can’t really recommend this book, because if you read it and it makes you go into an “episode” and then you “blame Wacky Mommy for it,” well. I can’t handle that kind of pressure, people. So you’re on your own with this one. (ps — It is quite a little pop culture phenom, that book, and the story of how it came about is pretty intriguing.)

Loved “Stargirl” by Jerry Spinelli.

Loved “Strider” by Beverly Cleary. (Sequel to “Dear Mr. Henshaw.”)

Loved “The Republic of Love” by Carol Shields, but I loved everything she wrote. The whole Carol Shields canon is great — she has never been given her props, my friends. Go read her.

“It Will Come to Me,” by Emily Fox Gordon, kind of reminds me of Shields’ style, or Margaret Atwood’s. Cool book about an aging academic couple whose son has gone missing into the world of the homeless, and their struggles.

All for now — Psych 311 workbook is calling me. NOT as sexy as fiction. Sigh.

— wm