Independent Reader: Yes, to Pigeons. No, to Cats. In Hats.

Mo Willems' books are always entertaining.

I first adored them through the sweet voice of my once 5 year old, Harper.

And tonight . . . from Zane.

Only, I wasn't sitting next to him. 

"Mommy! It's my first night!"

"Your first night?"

"Reading in my bed by myself before I go to sleep. It's my FIRST NIGHT!"

Thanks to Miss B, Zane's first-grade teacher, and thanks to having a son who is wired to move and groove when there is a prize at stake - like going out for pizza with the lovely Miss B once he finishes 100 books - Zane has caught the reading bug and is continually trying to challenge himself.

We are finding that Zane likes measured goals. In Cub Scouts he was all over the popcorn sale so he could win a gift card. He wants those darn beads. And belt loops. STAT! You know it. Earned three tonight. (Beads? Belt Loops? What? Yep, those boys are just as decked out as some Mary Kay consultants I recall seeing at conventions. Truth is - I love that kind of stuff, too.)

So, when it comes to reading?

No different.

His book form has a place to check whether he read the book independently, or whether the book was read to him. The last 10 books he has tackled have all been on his own. 

Tonight was evidence.

With his little lantern next to him in bed, George and I heard him reading for an hour after tuck-in.

It was 10:00 before he dozed off.

This morning, he showed me what he accomplished last night. Two Mo Willems' books, and another about an albatross.

As for the "Cat in the Hat Came Back" which was also sitting on his night stand?

"Nah, I didn't finish that one. It was just too long and the Cat was annoying me."

Dude, I feel the same way.

That cat produces anxiety. In children.

And adults.

Confession. I've never liked those books. Who wants to go to bed all stressed-out and high-strung?

I'll stick with my second run-through of Hunger Games . . . ;-) Movie trailer, here.

No tension there, right?

Can't wait to listen in on you tonight, little man!

Current Read: The Penderwicks

The Penderwicks: A Summer Tale of Four Sisters, Two Rabbits, and a Very Interesting Boy

This book is simply delicious.

I really don't know any other way to describe it.

Add to the experience that we've been joined for our reading jaunts by Harper and Zane's honorary older sister - our delightful neighbor, (a writer herself), and you should just be down-right jealous.

Get this book. Gather the children. And feast.

It has been delightful story to read aloud. The characters are fantastic and I've enjoyed the challenge of making sure each sister sounds and acts differently than the others. After years of being forbidden from actually using voices for the characters, I was only recently (within the last two years) given the "thumbs up" to do so.  This ban was due to an unfortunate incident years ago when I scared the pj's off of Harper during a reading of "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe". Seems this Mom was just too believable as the White Witch.

Oops.

We will most definitely plan on continuing the series after adventuring through this first book!

Thanks, Mom. (In So Many Words)

We're currently 3/4 of the way through the 5th and final book of Gregor: The Underland Chronicles by Suzanne Collins (of the Hunger Games trilogy fame).

I can't even remember when we started this series. Summer? What I do know is that the kids have been hooked from day one.

So tonight, as we settled in to read, Harper asks,

"Mom, is this a series you would choose to read on your own?"

"What do you mean? I did choose it."

"No. Would you read it without us? Like, alone."

"Ohhh. I get it. Yes, it's something I would read by myself."

"But, well, you chose to share it . . . you know, read it to us, like, together . . . instead of well, keeping it to yourself, like, you know-"

"Harper, are you trying to say thank-you?"

"Yes."

"You're welcome. This is my favorite activity of the day. Reading to you both."

And THAT is why I continue to read aloud to my 10 year old.

Are You There God? It's Me, And I'm FREAKING OUT!

It's a really cool feeling to enter your daughter's bedroom in the morning in order to wake her, only to find her already awake and reading in bed. Before school.

"It's time to get dressed, girl."

"No Mom! I just want to read!"

Music to my ears, and yet . . . there are THOSE books lurking on the shelves at the library. The same books I used to smuggle into the house under my mother's nose. My mother, who was incredibly keen, with a great sense of smell. She knew exactly what I was hiding, for she was always one step ahead of me, in terms of knowing what the "hot" books were for young adults.

As an adult, I now realize that adults actually talk to one another and thus, we are not as naive to trends and fads as our youngin's may think. And what we don't know firshand, we'll just learn about from another Mom. And the internet.

Like, which books are hot.

Like, which books you, the parent, should most definitely read first - before your child.

I am not one for censoring reading material. I would much rather read a controversial book myself so that I can actually hold a conversation on the content with my child. Take Twilight. While I don't feel the series is appropriate for anyone in elementary school, you better know that 5th graders are reading it - either with their parents knowledge, or in secret. And if they aren't reading it at home, just know that they are are sneaking peaks at it at school or the library, or a friend's house. And yes, she will read it Mom. Somewhere. Somehow.

So, why not read it first? What are we so scared of?

I did. The entire series. And my kid is barely 9, and not interested. But she knows about Twilight. Ok, not the details of it, but she's heard talk. I figure I might as well be prepared to talk about it, by actually reading the series, as I can't stand the "Well, I heard's" or "So and so said". Just read it, already, so you can have an actual personal opinion about it rather than relying solely on a critique from some internet site. Do your own homework.

Here, on this turf, we're not dealing with Twilight. Harper could care less, right now, with anything having to do with a boy and a girl liking each other in any way other than how well they can battle with light sabers. And honestly, we're not dealing with any other controversial novels at this point in time either.

However, we recently entered into Blume territory at the local library.

Harper has read "Freckle Juice" and the entire "Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing" series. "Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great" was checked out when it was time to read that one (for those of you who like order), but Harper enjoyed the series so much that she went back to read it even though she had already finished all the other books in the series.

So then what gave me a mini heart attack and the motivation for this post?

"Hey, Mom, here's one here about a girl named Margaret, and God."

Dry mouth. Flashbacks of "I must. I must. I must increase my bust." (It doesn't work).

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

(Insert Matrixy move to swipe the book out of her hands and then bury it somewhere in the adult non-fiction books about auto-repair or birds of prey - I don't know).

And then of course, there was the close neighbor of Margaret's book: "Forever". Ah, the young adult novel of my generation. The one I snuck into the house after a slumber party with my gymnastic team. The one my mother sweat out of me. I swear she saw me tucking that book into my jacket before I even left my friend's house. She was that good.

And then, I should add - she let me read it.

Thankfully, Harper didn't think that anything about Margaret and God was more interesting that Sheila the Great, so there was no need to get into it with her. And really, I just would have said, "Harps, that book is a little too old for you."

But just thinking about the discussions that are down the pike gave me hives. Once the coast was clear, and Harper had walked away from Blume territory with her Sheila book, I made a beeline to the librarians desk where I started pilfering leftover Halloween candy from her bowl.

I will be counting on the women who have gone before me to help walk me through the whole appropriate reading material discussion that I will one day have with my child.

And until that time, you'll find me hanging out in the children's section of the library reading junior and young adult novels.

Armed and ready.

Locked and loaded.

Reliving those fragile years of my life that I'd rather not relive - well, unless I could relive them with straight feathered hair and Jordache jeans.

Book 'em, Danno

I think I'm getting the hang of this "Beaver gig".

I mean, really, what is the most important element of a huge move?

Finding the grocery store? Getting bank accounts set up? Switching one's license from one state to another? Registering children for school? Trying not to get lost? Getting quoted on the front page of the local newspaper?

All worthy answers, and yet, they don't quite take the cake. I should know, 'cause remember, I'm a "cake-eater". (Funny, since this "cake-eater" can actually only afford the likes of Little Debbie. Shh. You know you love her too.)

No, the most important part of adapting to a huge move and a new community is to actually get to know the new community.

Thankfully, I now live in a town where seldom will someone pass my house and not wave or stop and introduce themselves while I sit on the front porch.

While running, I have perfected several types of acknowledgements towards other runners and walkers: the verbal "good morning" at the top of the run when I'm not winded, and the non-verbal "I'm waving to you but can't speak right now" gesture when I'm just about out of wind. I am very careful not to spit until I pass people. I think that's just downright polite.

George and I have learned over the last year that life is about relationships. At the end of the day, when the bills keep a'comin', or the kids are completely ornery, the laundry has once again piled up, and the black dog hair coating my floors is so thick that it could actually pass for a shag carpet (eww), what do we have left?

People. Relationships. Social interaction.

Enter one of my new friends here in Beaver who made it her mission to get me connected months before I even moved here. Her name may be Riki, but since I'm not mentioning names, I can't be too sure.

I think it was my first week here when she invited me to join a Book Club here in Beaver. I did not hesitate and actually thought to myself, "Why have I, of all people, never had the time for a consistent book club?" I was a part of one a few year's back, but then, as is the case with so many people, the chaos of life took over and the book club fizzled out.

I'm telling you, even though I may sound wildly opinionated about this, moving has been essential to helping me shift my daily focus off the "important" chaos of "schedule" and "stuff" in order to reroute my energy towards people and relationships. I honestly believe, and you can fight me on this (not with fists - I'm not cruisin' for any bruisin' on this Mary Kay face), that some chaos, (yes, I relented and said "some") is chosen. In many cases, I think we initiate the chaotic busyness that we often complain about. Don't disagree so quickly. Chew on it for a bit.

This is why Book Club was such a delight. Appetizer's, dinner, Sangria. Sangria. Sangria. Oops. Sorry. Dessert. I felt spoiled and welcome. The women were (are) friendly, engaging, interested in what the new chick from Chicago had to say, and warm. The evening was relaxing and comfortable and the hostess created the perfect atmosphere for a Mom's Night Out.

And THIS is what I'm talking about! People need people - sure it sounds like the title to a Steisand tune, and it is, but it's true: People need people. Women need fellowship. It's one of the reasons that I enjoy my Mary Kay business so much - once you convince a Mom that it is OK to leave their children with their spouse (for they are quite capable) and allow oneself a night out with friends, a "letdown", (excuse the nursing reference, but I recall the "letdown" as feeling curiously drug-like), occurs, and the woman returns home with a full bucket.

Said bucket is now full.

Thanks for welcoming me to your neighborhood.

John Cougar Mellancamp Would Love Beaver

Many good 'ole small towns in the U.S. of A have a gazebo in the town square. Our's included.

Only Beaver's gazebo isn't a structure from the town's earlier years, nor was its construction planned by the city. Nope. Our gazebo was built specifically for the movie Gung Ho.

See, director Ron Howard needed to do some filming and Beaver provided the perfect quintessential small town. Only it was missing a gazebo.

Not anymore!

So tonight, we ate ice cream on that gazebo, on which Obama also stood while visiting Beaver on the campaign trail, as the smell of funnel cakes, candy apples, cotton candy, and the smoke from carny cigarettes filled the night air.

Today was my most favorite day in Beaver to date. And by "to date", I mean, one week.

It began with a trip to Capo's in New Brighton to see if we could find a vanity for my bedroom. Our bathroom is tight. It would be better for the entire family if Mom could just do her whole beauty thing somewhere other than in the crowded bathroom. I can dig that. Someday, (after we're done paying for our new appliances), we'll begin talking about putting in a second bathroom, but for now, this one is it. So, in the interim, to alleviate the traffic jam in one of the most coveted rooms in the house, we began shopping for a vanity for my bedroom, at which I could Mary Kay myself up the way I like without having to be all speedy. Sometimes a girl just likes to sit and take time on herself, you know?

Capo's is one of those places that reminds me a bit of Sanford and Son, only it's heavy on furniture. There are rows down which one can not even walk, and then there are the shelves stacked with old trinkets. It's pretty incredible. I did not find my vanity (although I've got a good bite on one through Craig's List), but I did get an incredibly modern reading chair for under Harper's loft at just $10 (which was a surprise find in a place filled with pieces from the 1930's).

We then dropped some goods at the local thrift store and checked out the local market - which I LOVED! I can't stand huge supermarkets. My options here are Giant Eagle ($$$), Walmart (I have Walmart issues), Aldi (I'm down with Aldi), and a few other choices. However, today, I decided to check out the small store on 3rd. I adored it. Best find? The Amish chicken. Produce? Not great - but I intend to hit the Farmer's Market for that. The people were nice, the selection was fine and the variety was just enough.

After that stop, we hit the local consignment store, which ROCKS. My mom and I will totally be hitting that place on Saturday after I treat her to a mani and I get a much needed pedi. She's working her tail off at my house right now. She deserves all the specialty coffee drinks and manicures she desires.

Got home, called over to our neighbor, a delightful 6th grader, and took a nice walk with her and the kids to the library. I love our library. While the kids searched the entire place (literally every shelf high and low) for the "mystery book of the week" which was wrapped and tied with ribbons, I got our library cards, and also signed up Harper and Zane for the reading games. Here, they win "book buck's" for reading over the summer. They collect these bucks to redeem for prizes at the "store". The best part? Harper has signed up to read stories to Ishtar, a working black lab. The library offers the opportunity for kids to read to three working dogs. Harper chose to read to Ishtar on two dates. She gets to choose the books and Ishtar will sit at her feet while she reads. Um, how excited do you think Harper is about this?

The remainder of the night was spent at the town carnival, chatting with neighbors (who brought rice crispy treats), and reading to the kids on the porch.

What deserves a post of its very own is the adventure we took in an old house that is up for sale down our block. Victorian. 14 bedrooms. Holes in the porch. Very Boo Radley, or original Nancy Drew. We learned that it is always unlocked so we ventured in with the kids . . . spooky? I should say so. It's a wonder the kids even fell sleep tonight.

Stay tuned . . .

Smoked: A Guest Post by Harper Atkins

I smoked my mother.

I challenged my mother to see who could reach 1000 first, and I won.

I was supposed to read 1000 minutes in March. I read 1045 minutes.

Mom was supposed to sell $1000.

And . . . she didn't. She wiped out. She only sold $557. That's pretty good, but, I think she can do better.

Seriously, she could do better.

What I get for reaching 1000 minutes is being taken out for ice cream and I get a reward. All I get for the reward at school is a star on blue paper.

My favorite book read during the challenge was "See Ya Later, Gladiator." It was really good. What was good about it is that they go into this book and they get trapped and stuff. It is really cool.

I felt really good about this.

Thanks for being a guest poster, Harper!

Mommy Take-down

Harper not only purchased a Wall-E chapter book, for her brother, from the school bookstore yesterday, but than sat and read it to him for 20 minutes last night. 5 Chapters.

That was on top of reading for 24 minutes earlier in the day.

She is smokin' me.

I definitely think this is one of those contests where you just go ahead and let your child win.

After all, it's a legitimate win . . . although I do have 2 appointments and 4 guests scheduled for facials next week. So don't count me out just yet.

I may be down, but I'm not out!

Keeping Tabs

Just an update on the challenge Harper presented to herself, and her Mary Kay peddlin' mother for the month of March.

Thanks to a special event at our church where Brad Sherrill presented a one-man live performance of the entire Gospel of John, Harper raked in 140 minutes of reading time (reading time can either be Harper reading to herself or being read to). We figured if she was able to sit through Brad's performance, for which he MEMORIZED THE ENTIRE GOSPEL, we should give her points. She scored big that night.

So, drumroll please!



Totals to date:

Harper: 770 minutes

Mom: $470 sold
(Um, does it matter if I were to mentioned that I didn't work at all March 3-8? And I have a new team member? No? I should just take on the challenge and get to work? Ok.)

My Word!

"Ex-pear-ee-mint is a big word, Mommy."

"Yes, it is, Zane."

"God helps me say big words", he adds.

"I can say, 'ex-pear-ee-mint', 'en-vi-ro-mint', and 'announce-mint'. They all end in 'mint'. I don't like mint gum. But, you know, do you real-a-lize that my bones can move?"

These are the sort of conversations I have been enjoying with Zane as of late. The boy is just growing. Like a weed. How very cliche of me.

And then, while watching some science show on PBS:

"Mommy, transformation is a big word. You know, actually, the flowers grow under the ground and then sprout."

George started Fellowship of the Ring with Harper and Zane last night. For all my writing and talking about how important it is to read chapter books with your children, I am shocked that they sit for this. Really, truly, I am.

This morning Zane gave me an earful about the story. Details like Bilbo and Frodo's ages. How Bilbo is rich because he took the gold from the Smog in The Hobbit. Harper, who we barred from commenting, as we were pretty hung up on seeing how much Zane retained, was offended.

"What am I? Invisible?"

She went off to finish her own books. Shortly thereafter she announced, "I finished my books about King Tut and George Washington." She is currently enjoying a historical fiction series called The Time Warp Kids. She has also set a goal of reading for 1000 minutes this month - way above the teacher's expectation of 330 for the month, which she's already reached. And it's only March 10. 1000 minutes of reading.

She then turned around and challenged me to sell $1000 this month. Um, ok.

I best get cookin'. I mean, how do you say no to that kind of challenge from your kid?

I'm speechless.

Yeah, right. When have I ever been known to be speechless?

A Few Weekend Adventures

Watership Down.

The Shire.

Lonely Mountain.

Yep. We visited all of them this weekend.

No, I didn't actually read Watership Down to the kids.

Yes, I realize that goes against my rule. It's a long read. Sadly, I owned a first American edition of the book year's ago, but sold it upon finding out that I was pregnant and that children cost money.

So, last night, choosing to rebel against the rule, I checked out the animated feature documenting those rabbits and their search for a new warren.

Tonight, we hit The Shire. 10 points if you can sing the theme song to the animated feature of The Hobbit. Unlike our trip to Watership Down, this visit to Middle Earth came after finishing our journey through the book. Yes, tonight, we finished reading The Hobbit.

As we watched the film, Harper expressed her frustration over sections being left out. It was the perfect time to ask her,

"Harper, so which was better? The book or the movie?"

"The book."

"Ah! You are my child after all. Prince Caspian. Which was better? Book or movie?"

"The book, Mom."

"Yes! Despereux? Well, we know the answer to this one."

"Book."

We are reading/listening to The Indian in the Cupboard. I can't remember the film all that well, other than there being a "sh*&" in the dialogue. But, after watching The Goonies, a "sh*&" is nothing.

Zane adored The Hobbit. And now, after reading and watching the story, I think I have a better understanding of where he picked up the phrase "ancient writing". But a weekend of even the finest literature can freak out a 4 year old. For Watership Down's bunnies drew some serious animated blood, and who wants to sleep alone after meeting Golem, Goblins, and Smog?

"Daddy, will you snuggle with me? Sometimes I have bad dreams. But, I'm ok because Jesus is in the room with me."

George began to pray for him.

"Daddy, could you also ask Jesus to help me say the word I can't say very well?"

"What word is that, Zane?"

"I can't say it. I need help saying it."

So, he prayed.

The biggest laugh of the night came when George did a dead on impersonation of the singer of theme song to The Hobbit.

10 points. And just what song is that? (No googling allowed!)

For the Love of Despereaux

I know, I'm a bit hung up on this mouse. Not merely because the book was so enjoyable, but because Zane has developed such a fascination with this little rodent.

It's funny that my children have yet to associate Despereaux with the two mice we took out just last week. Like the Cook in the book, I do not want mice in my kitchen. And unlike her, I will not be sharing my delicious and very legal Italian Wedding soup with any little creature with whiskers and the ability to bend its body like a young Cirque du Soleil performer with the intent of invading my house through the tiniest crack. Sorry fella's. Enter, George, to do the dirty work. Spit spot. Mice gone.

Zane went to bed talking about Despereaux and woke up this morning talking about Despereaux. Having seen the movie preview, he has now taken it upon himself to act out lines from the film.

I have been instructed, directed, even, to say, "Are you a rat or a mouse?" To which Zane replies, quite dramatically, "I am a gentleman", complete with a little bow of sorts.

I could freakin' faint on the spot.

After some review reading tonight, I'm afraid that the film won't live up to his expectations, but seeing as I've never really followed reviews, unless of course they referred to me as being "charming" in a show, (to which I quickly abandon my former belief and agree that the critic is right on the mark . . .), I'm sure we'll enjoy it well enough. Maybe, it will serve as a reminder for Harper and Zane as to why their Mom is always pushing books on them prior to seeing the film.

We finished Book 4 of Despereaux tonight. An hour of reading. Hot chocolate in hand (mine with a little added, ahem, "kick" of something special) and some cupcakes we made today. Having spent the entire day inside waiting for the furnace guy to come for the clean and check, we needed some entertainment. It's amazing how calm this winter break has been. Reading, baking, writing thank you notes (Harper helped), Wii (Lego Star Wars is Harper's fav after Wii Sports), and, yes, a little bit of homework for Harper everyday - I'm so mean.

It's been fantastic.

I really enjoy my kids and while my not working a true part-time job has definitely taken a financial strain on us, I think there is a reason for my being home while they are home.

Because I love them. Just like Despereaux loves the Pea.

Because I love them.

Despereaux and the Pea

I'm on my second reading of the The Tale of Despereaux, the first taking place just a few days ago between Christmas Day and the day after Christmas. The second happening over the past 3 nights, with the exciting conclusion, which is being talked about with great anticipation by Harper and Zane, planned for tomorrow evening.

For my kids know their Mom's rule: No movie until we've read the book.

Period.

The Tale of Despereaux is broken down into 4 "books", of which I've been reading aloud one a night. And while I got lost in the story while reading it to myself, reading it aloud has proven to be even more exciting. Even I am excited to see the film on New Year's Eve.

Zane, who has sat through many a novel, is thoroughly enjoying this one. Particularly any part of the book that has to do with Despereaux, Princess Pea, and love. He always surprises me. I think he's not comprehending what I'm reading, or paying attention, when 'lo and behold, I am proven wrong. Terribly wrong.

"Mommy, I am Despereaux. You are Princess Pea."

"Ok, Zane. You are Despereaux and I am the Princess Pea."

"Yes. Because I love you. And Despereaux is in love with the Princess."

I kiss him.

"No! You can't do that! People don't kiss mice! Because they have icky skin!"

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"You can kiss me again when I am Zane."

We then gathered around the computer to watch the preview of the movie. Zane decided that we should all be characters. Me, the Princess, Zane, the brave mouse, Daddy, King Philip (as Philip is his middle name - although Zane misunderstood this thinking that "King Philip" was George's middle name), and Harper, well, we just couldn't imagine her as the Queen (deceased), or Miggery Sow (she was just appalled, and rightfully so, at Miggery's plight beginning with the death of her mother, to her being sold into slavery by her father, to the "clouts" at the hands of her "Uncle"), so we all agreed that she would be the Princess Pea's beautiful white horse.

Before bed, Zane just couldn't stop talking about the story. And as I exited his bedroom and closed the door, I could still hear him muttering aloud to himself, "A mouse who loves a Princess. How can that be?"

We're planning a reading of The Indian in the Cupboard next . . . and of course George is still reading them The Hobbit. We are really looking forward to finishing that one so that we can once again see the animated movie that we remember from childhood.

I am thoroughly loving this winter break.

We may have no food in the house, but we happily gorging ourselves on books!

Hey, Boo.

If you know me well, then you know that I am obsessed with Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird". It was the first book I remember reading which made a lasting impression on me. And while I wanted to name my first born Scout, I just couldn't, as Demi Moore had just done so, and I was sure that people would think I was attempting to go Hollywood.

It was Andrew Bernstein, my neighbor when we lived in the condo on Monroe Street, who actually gave us the idea for Harper's name. I think it went something like this,

"Why don't you name the baby Harper if it's a girl?"

It was perfect.

Now, my Grandma's name is Lee, but seriously, could I really name my first born Harper Lee? No one would even believe that the middle name was her Great Great Grandmother's name. No, they would just see . . . Hollywood. And, out of respect for Harper Lee herself, who would find it absolutely ridiculous that one would even name a child after her, I decided against Lee as the middle name. Instead we went with Ella, after George's Grandmother.

I've told Harper how much I love reading and have shown her the card, above, which is actually in her baby book - a vision of a quality I saw in the daughter I carried. A painted prayer, if you will, that my daughter would embrace reading as I do.

So, you can imagine my glee when Harper came home from school today with her very own paperback copy of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer Stone".

"Mom, look what I bought at the school bookstore!"

Harper has an account so that periodically throughout the school year she can choose and purchase the books of her choice.

"Honey, we have all the Harry Potter books", I answered, secretly excited that she had chosen the books (as she also picked up "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets"), but thinking more about the money wasted on books we already owned, rather than the fact that Harper had made her own choice.

"Yeah, but they are too big and heavy to hold."

She had a point.

She then ran upstairs, settled into the beanbag chair under her loft and read Harry Potter.

I found her in bed later that evening finishing Chapter One.

The funny thing is . . . I first began reading Harry Potter while pregnant with Harper. In fact, I remember clearly my father purchasing one of the books for me the summer of my pregnancy with her.

And now? She's hooked.

I am awestruck at how much she has grown since February when we first began to investigate options for helping her. She has had an incredible inner growth spurt this year. Incredible. She's vivacious, inquisitive, enthusiastic, funny, effervescent, imaginative, and becoming more and more of a risk taker.

Many have told met that she's a new kid.

Nope. She's my old kid. Returned. As all those adjectives above actually described Harper at age 3 and 4. They just quietly disappeared around 5, and have now begun to resurface.

And wouldn't you know, that after all the discussion I've had with her about my favorite book and my favorite line in a book, she now knows that she can just tug at Mom's heartstrings by simply tilting her head, staring at me with those huge, expressive blue eyes, and muttering, "Hey, Boo."

I love that line. Scout discovering Boo for the very first time and yet realizing that even though they'd never actually met until that fateful night, she had truly known the real Boo all along.

Hey, Harper.

Bookworms

Recently, George began reading "The Hobbit" to Harper and Zane. They are really enjoying it.

Not to be outdone by my husband, I decided to begin reading the Harry Potter series to Harper. Zane listens while playing with blocks or Lego's on the floor, and just like when we read "Prince Caspian" is actually catching the major themes of the story. This is evidenced by his outfitting two kids at the park with magic wands (sticks) at the park today.

I love reading chapter books to my kids.

Yes, they really do sit and listen.

No, they don't constantly ask, "Where is the picture?"

Harper and I have read "Little House in the Big Woods", "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe", "The Incredible Journey of Edward Tulane", "Prince Caspian", "Because of Winn Dixie", etc. In fact, Harper has become a fan of Kate Dicamillo, and is now reading a series she's written about a pig named Mercy. It's cool that she is finding authors that she enjoys. Her ultimate favorite has got to be Mo Willems. She is really coming into her own with reading, even enjoying a A to Z Mysteries which she'll read while curled up in bed at night. I have this vision of her staying up completely passed her bedtime reading under the covers with a flashlight. Yes, I'd be overjoyed if she were that kid.

I've always prayed that my children would have a love of reading. And for Harper, that spark has really been ignited this year as her confidence with reading has grown.

And, now, I get to read Harry Potter again! WITH VOICES! And I get to delight in my son coming down the stairs covered in a blanket proclaiming to be Hagrid, "who is a giant".

What I need to find are stories about robots for my little man. And beavers. We're still on beavers. In fact, we're on to being robot beavers. He's my little imaginative robot beaver.

Thank you, my dear treasures, for allowing me the ultimate pleasure of reading great books to you.

And thank you for finally allowing me to do the voices!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"It is better to LOOK good, than to feel good"

And Mrs. Palin, "You look mahvelous!"

According to the little gaggle of women I overheard at an area coffee shop this morning, you are "very pretty"! And that is sooooooooo exciting!

Seriously, folks. I think I should be a private eye. I just blend right in with my latte, biscotti, and reading material, which is currently, "Understanding Girls With ADHD". No one would ever suspect that I have a bionic ear.

As I listened to the "political" discussion at the next table, I was embarrassed to be a woman. And this, from a woman who actually sells lipstick! To pit bulls! And pigs. NOOOOOO! That was NOT directed at anyone in particular. Just calm yourself down already.

Although, I must add that lipstick sales are UP! Thanks, Sarah! Thank you, Obama.

Ugh. Digression. Sorry.

Here's how the discussion went down.

Lady #1: Are you excited about Sarah Palin?

Lady #2: You mean our next Vice President! Yes!!! I mean, I really don't know anything about her, and I haven't watched any speeches, but she is fantastic!

Lady #3: And she's really pretty!

All: Yes. Oh yes. Isn't she so pretty. Tee hee, tee hee, hardy har, har, har.

WHAT?????!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is your criteria? Quit sniffing and/or swallowing the product you are purchasing from me. It's not meant to be ingested!

I have watched every speech. I am reading everything I can get my hands on. I am watching every interview. This woman has been so coached to deliver the scripted and "approved"answers she has been rehearsing since the RNC, that she has to refrain from even blinking during an interview (a good sign that you can tell her head was spinning to retrieve the correct, manufactured answer located in the information Rolodex in her head, and yet she didn't want to lead on that it was spinning). Take it from one who used to coach speeches, interviews, and monologues. Sarah Palin did not look comfortable. Her eyes were transfixed, almost vacant, overdoing the eye contact, (which is what one does when they are relying soley on memorization), her hand wagged on each point as a crutch to help her remember the answers, and not even dropping a "Charlie" every so often to create a sense of relationship really worked in her favor. She didn't look relaxed.

But, yeah, she looks really pretty.

Doesn't that make you feel good?

Quiet Sanctuaries In A Busy City

I took the kids to the Lincoln Park Zoo on Tuesday, and was so startled by the lack of morals that were paraded in front of my innocent children, that I completely forgot to share about the treasure of a sanctuary we stumbled upon as we trekked back to our car after our primate education.

And that, my friends, was a really long sentence.

I can not stand paying for parking, so our spot was a bit far from the zoo, at least for child legs, but I secured it after a well fought circling expedition. And boy did I squeeze into a dandy space. I am a fantastic at parallel parking. A skill I picked up after years of auditions downtown where street parking was the only option I would choose for 5 minute auditions. Fifty cents in a meter was one thing, but no way was I going to pay anything over a buck to run inside, spew my talent in front of a camera for 5 minutes, only to be back in my car before the engine cooled.

So we parked. And between walking to the zoo, walking through the zoo, and walking from the zoo, Zane's little three year old legs were spent. As we left the zoo, I could tell he was dreading the walk back to car. I was trying to distract him from the distance with stories about the zoo, the clean stories, rather than the sordid tales, but my efforts weren't working.

And then, we passed a gate. A gate I've driven past several times over 16 years living in Chicago, but one I've actually never walked by. Driving by, I always assumed it was some sort of service entrance for the zoo or the Conservatory.

This time, on foot, we glanced in.

All of us squealed and ran in. We stopped and looked upon what could only be described as the perfect urban oasis. For located smack dab west of Lake Shore Drive, right behind the Lincoln Park Zoo, and a spit East of the Conservatory, we discovered, for the first time, the Alfred Caldwell Lily Pond. The sound of cars? Gone. The tops of buildings? Covered by trees. Sitting on the bank of the pond? A painter. Settled on the rocks? A couple having a picnic. How could we have lived here for so long and never known that this place existed?

Harper, Zane, our neighbor Bradley, and I followed the stone path as it curved around the pond which, yes, as the name suggests, was filled with lily pads. And it was quiet. Quiet. In Chicago. Zane kept commenting about the "journey" we were taking. Harper, my nature lover, expressed surprise at every little bend. Bradley, couldn't believe the Atkins were still walking after hours at the zoo and just wanted to sit by the edge. To reflect, I'm sure. Although secretly, I think our energy was too much for him.

We came upon a rock formation and noticed that there were people above us. So, we too, decided to climb up and see what we would find.

What we found at the top was a the perfect picnic spot, complete with a mini fresh water pond/waterfall. Yes, all man-made, but absolutely refreshing. We removed our shoes and just sat with our feet in the frigid water. It was there and then that we decided we would surprise George by bringing him back to this exact spot this morning for a picnic breakfast. I knew he didn't know this place existed and that he would be just as moved as we were when we first stumbled upon it.

After picking up bagels and coffee this morning we headed downtown and arrived just before 9. Zane was very close to giving away our secret by sharing with George that we were headed to the "water and the rocks". But even so, our secret was pretty safe.

He was floored when he entered. Just as I expected. "Has this always been here?" seemed to be the question of the week with regards to this hidden piece of solitude. Speaking with some neighbors tonight, we learned that they too, had no idea that the Alfred Caldwell Lily Pond existed.

We took the path around until we reached our picnic spot. When George went to put our things down we took delight in telling him "no". He would need to actually climb up to find our spot. We climbed and sat.

"Guys, this is the best gift I've been given all year" was George's response.

We ate. We splashed. We guzzled coffee. No, not the kids. I may be an addict, but I'm not a pusher. We took turns grabbing Zane's hands so he wouldn't slip on the rocks. We took a few photo's with our "loaner camera" from Ritz (can't wait for ours to be repaired) and enjoyed our family.

After breakfast, we went to the Conservatory to see more beauty.

Afterwards, Harper and I actually jogged the path back to the car whereupon she announced that we should begin jogging every morning. Hmmm.

George and I actually watched many joggers and marathon training teams running the path this morning and both thought, although we didn't speak it, "That was once us." I could tell by looking at him, and he could tell by looking at me that we both felt we were missing something from the beauty of the day - a healthy run, as we once upon a time knew.

For me, witnessing joggers makes me feel as if I could run again. At least the 5K's. No more half marathons . . . just a thought. I don't know yet. Don't hold me to it.

It was a perfect Chicago morning. Followed by a perfect Evanston afternoon with my daughter.

Bookman's Alley: Evanston

Before having children, I invested (not wasted, mind you) a lot of time and money in used bookstores, and even dabbled in collecting First Editions of my favorites books. One of my favorite quiet spots, was Bookman's Alley in Evanston. Bookman's Alley is the complete opposite of a stuffy antique book seller, in terms of attitude, and yet very stuffy as it pertains to feeling cramped, books piled everywhere, the smell of must, dusty old furniture, and various pieces of military uniforms and other antique treasures strewn about, all creating a general feeling of being launched back in time.

It's glorious.

After Harper was born, and the budget got crunched, I actually sold a few books back to the owner at Bookman's Alley, and because I respected the quiet nook that is this place for so many, I really never returned with baby in tow. Plus, I didn't have the expanded time or money to just browse without care or responsibility once having children.

Today, while on a date with my SECOND GRADER I decided to share with her my long lost friend, and we ventured into Bookman's Alley.

Her response only confirmed that she is indeed my daughter. Yeah, yeah, everyone knows she's physically my kid, but her reaction to Bookman's Alley confirmed that soulfully, she's my girl. For upon entering the bookstore, she immediately exclaimed, "Oh! This is the greatest place!"

I could have cried as she found books on Egypt tucked in a corner.

I cringed as she attempted to touch the rare first editions, and found the owner very gracious and patient as I explained to her that I didn't have $400 on hand, and thus she should probably not be taking them off the shelf.

She saw Zane Grey books, got excited for Zane, and asked where she could find "To Kill a Mockingbird".

"Oh, Harper, First Editions of that book are rare and run something like $2500. I don't think there is one there."

We found the children's books and she chose to purchase, with her own money, a rare riddle book called "Cleo Catra", a book of riddles involving the theme of Ancient Egypt and cats. If you know my daughter, she is an expert on anything ancient Egyptian and loves jokes and riddles. She picked the book off the shelf and then tucked herself away in one of the many little crannies that are all over the store, in order to read her find. She explored drawers of old desks, finding old papers dolls and postcards, and asked repeatedly if I would purchase a $50 copy of Robinson Crusoe because, " . . . it's so old!" She didn't want to leave. Neither did I.

Could it be that after 7 years, I can rekindle my love affair with used bookstores while sharing this passion with my daughter?

And this is how Harper, who was complimented by the owner on her "coiffure", became a first-time collector of books with her first purchase at Bookman's Alley. And although she requested that we return after school so that she could complete her homework there, I fear that it would be too distracting for her. Plus, there's no way we could visit with our little wrecking ball in attendance.

But, I love my son. I named him after an author whose books are all over that shop.

I just can't bring him anywhere near it.

Regardless of whether she is every able to sit there to finish some homework, it most definitely won't be our last mother/daughter visit.

The day ended with a neighborhood movie on the Klamm's block. Families all gathered in front of a makeshift screen to eat popcorn and watch "Monster's Inc."

Today was a day of quiet sanctuaries in two busy cities.

Gee, Thanks Borders!

I bought two new books today.

"Eats, Shoots, & Leaves" and "Camp Rock" (the junior novel - riveting).

"What? You actually purchased books?! Why, you don't do that!"

Ha!

I do when I have credit . . . from returning my Barnes & Noble copy of "Public Relations for Dummies"!

Yeppers. Borders took the book back without hesitation, and, I might add, incredible customer service, a run to the back of the store to get my exchange (Eats, Shoots & Leaves), a suggestion that I may want to pick up Lynne Truss's latest book, a smile, and actions completely worthy of my decision to refrain from ever giving my hard earned book buying money to Barnes & Noble in the future.

Seriously, I'm sold.

It was just so easy.

There were no questions. I didn't even need to explain. And I didn't feel like an idiot, as I did in B & N while being given the once over when I shared I had lost my receipt. Yeah, I bought it at YOUR store. Dorks.

Borders just took the book and handed me a gift card in exchange.

And what do you know? I turned around and immediately spent that gift card.

At Border's.

Gee, thanks!

Gee, Thanks Barnes & Noble!

I used to buy all my books.

When the stunning new chains of bookstores opened years back while George was in Seminary, we spent many a Friday night date combing either Barnes and Noble or Border's (which was conveniently located across the street) for deals on the sales tables. It was a luxury to buy a new book, although in all honesty, I've always preferred used books over new.

For awhile I read a ton about book collecting and even have a few 1st editions of books I treasure. Every Saturday that George worked at the coffee shop, would find me exploring used bookstores for rare titles and finds that I wanted to claim as my own. I couldn't then (and still can't now) afford a 1st of "To Kill a Mockingbird", but I do have a First Edition Truman Capote and a full set of Chaim Potok's books, my favorite author after Harper Lee.

I like books.

Although, now, I am more apt to borrow from a friend or from the library rather than plop down coin for a book. There is the rare purchase at Amazon.com, but gone are the Friday night browsing sessions where time didn't really matter - other than closing time.

So, it was kind of a big deal when I walked into Barnes & Noble the other day to find a book on PR. Something light . . . like, Public Relations for Dummies. Which is just what I chose. Proudly, I purchased my book and left. I was pretty high. Having just gotten hired to write, I felt good about purchasing a "text" for this new phase of my life. A purchase that can now be considered a write off as well. It may not have been the best book on the subject (I also purchased a used PR text off of Half.com on the recommendation of a friend who actually teaches PR) but it certainly met my goals of finding a simple course.

I then come to find out that my gem of a sister also had Dummies on the mind . . . um, thanks? No, seriously, she too purchased a book for me, Public Relations Kit for Dummies, which upon researching it had a much better rating in terms of helpfulness to those starting out in the business.

Not being able to find my receipt, I went back to B&N, knowing that in the past they have just scanned a book to prove it was from their store and then given credit. My plan was to just treat myself to something else.

Well, apparently they've changed their policy.

I was told that without a receipt there would be no return and no credit. Zilch. I am now left with a book I don't need. What's up with that?

Wouldn't scanning it show the SKU number for their store? 'Cause, well, it sure did used to!

What happens now when I receive gifts without a gift receipt? Regift?

Is there seriously no way of returning an item without any sort of receipt? Are they losing money on returns? Is that the reason for the policy change?

I do understand that store's get taken with fake returns, but I really did buy it there and a simple scan would have revealed that truth.

But, nope.

I now have a book that I don't need. I'm annoyed.

So, gee, thanks, Barnes & Noble!

If I do happened to find that receipt, I'll be back.

But not to purchase books.

Character Analysis

Tonight, we finish Prince Caspian.

And if I had any doubt whether Zane has been listening and comprehending the story over the past 3 weeks, that doubt has now vanished.

Today, while asking me for the zillionth time if he could see the movie (which, we're not so sure about), I had the cleverest of clever ideas.

Thank you BBC for making a version of the Narnia books years ago. A quick hop over to the library and a very ordained stop in front of the children's dvd's placed me directly in front of their version of Prince Caspian.

Zane was ecstatic.

"Mommy! Does it have Caspian?"

Yes.

"Trumpkin?"

Yes.

"Nikabrik?"

Yes.

"Trufflehunter?"

Yes.

"The mouse? Reepy Cheepy?"

Close. Yes.

"What about the children? Peter, Susan, um, what's the other girl?"

Lucy.

"Oh, yes, Lucy. And the other boy?"

Edmund.

"What's the bad King's Name?"

Miraz.

"Right. Miraz. And Peter fighted him."

Yes.

"And this is my Prince Caspian to watch?"

Yep.

Book read. Money saved. Boy happy.

We then went on a date to Panera where he ate his yogurt and turkey before his cookie.

Ah, the magic of Narnia is most certainly upon us.