Book Review # 8 - Loved Walked In

I liked this book. I really did. But it's not going to sound like it.

Loved Walked In was recommended to me by Becky K., a blogger whose taste in books I take seriously. Once I began reading, I couldn't put the book down because the writing is intimate - very conversational - so you feel like you're reading a lengthy, but funny and interesting, personal letter from your best friend. I admit that I was disappointed with de la Santos's too frequent and flippant use of the F bomb because the other language she uses is so enjoyable. She's a poet, after all, and can string together some really pretty words. I suppose her defense is that it went with Cornelia's conversational tone, and, like many people nowadays, Cornelia casually peppers her everyday language with vulgarities, but I felt like it took away from a book that was on track to be great.

If the unnecessary language was strike one, then the overly tidy ending was strike two. Love Walked In begins when Cornelia Brown, a pretty, 85 pound 31 year-old woman obsessed with old-style Hollywood romances and working in a Philadelphia coffee shop, meets Martin Grace, a Cary Grant look alike who changes her life forever after he walks into her cafe. Cornelia's story, told in a funny parenthetical filled first person narrative, alternates with eleven year-old Clare Hobb's, who describes her increasingly desperate situation as her mother succumbs to manic depression in a much more direct third person (I mention the different voices because the change really is noticeable and, at first, a little disconcerting). Cornelia and Clare cross paths halfway through the book.

It doesn't feel predictable until it is. There were so many plot twists throughout the first two-thirds of the story, things not going the way you'd expect them to, that its tied-up-in-a-pretty-bow ending didn't feel right. It's a good ending in that everyone's happy and everyone wins (at least the characters whose relevance still matters by the end) , but happily ever after isn't always the best way to end a story.

I AM glad I read it. It's charming and well written, interesting and funny. The criticism comes from it not being as great as it could have been.

End of an Era

Today is school picture day. By 7:30 am (which is the time everyone has to be dressed, fed and in the van) my boys were looking absolutely dashing in their matching brown GAP shirts, dark denim jeans and newly groomed short haircuts. With Sam's missing bottom teeth and in spite of the crowding problem in Seth's own mouth, I've no doubt that I'll love these pictures (although I wasn't given the option not to since the order was due upfront. Scam).

Feeling nostalgic, I went and looked at Seth's past school pictures. He looks so young in his kindergarten picture where he's wearing a vivid, orange polo. First grade is much more subdued as he opted for the toothless smile in his red, cream and black rugby. And his second grade picture contains the new, too-large teeth in his...er....orange polo (apparently I like orange polos, although this particular shirt was much more of a burnt orange than its predecessor).

In each picture, his hair looks pretty much the same. Short. Side part. Subtle flip of his bangs in front. The exact hair style both he and Sam are sporting today.

After looking at Seth's pictures, I found the stack of my own 5 X 7 school portraits I acquired from my parents. It was then that I realized that this may be the last year I have any influence over Seth's appearance.

How I came to this realization can be seen by looking at my own history.

Kindergarten:

A little shell shocked, I think. Or post nap. No doubt I looked a little better earlier in the day with a more coiffed bowl haircut. But my matching purple shirt and skirt were adorable.

1st Grade:
I'm not sure why I'm wearing this polyester ensemble, as I have photographic proof that it is a hand-me-down of at least five years (Maureen is wearing it on Christmas day some years back), but I clearly had my hair curled that morning and my mother must have convinced me that I looked pretty.


2nd Grade:

I loved this dress. I remember it well because my sister, Jennifer, had a matching red one, only hers didn't have the lace sewn into the sleeve, and I loved that strip of lace. This was my favorite school picture for a long time. Probably until my senior year of high school.

3rd Grade:

My personality starts to poke through with the super grin to show off my new super teeth. Another pretty dress with sheer sleeves (hmmmmm). Bought by mother (although I'm thinking I may have had some say in it).

And then it happened. I, and not my mother, gained artistic control over my school picture "look". The results? Well....you'll see.

4th Grade:

I got myself a perm, a mullet and...wait a minute...a polo. I remember feeling good about this choice. But fourth grade was a bad year. A really bad year. It might have been the perm.

While he may choose his green shirt and red track pants next year (please, no) I admit it's probably time to cut the apron strings and let him start dressing himself. Well...he does already. A lot of the days. But, for school, I always have veto power and since I still buy his clothes, it's kind of a puppet regime anyways. No matter what he wears, however, I fervently hope that he won't follow in his mother's footsteps and scribble out the checked box next to "traditional background" and insert his own check mark next to "scenic background" like I did in sixth grade.

I don't know how I thought I'd sneak it past my mother. It's not like she wasn't going to notice the busy fall background that stuck out like a sore thumb next to her five other children's conservative grey/blue. But, once I knew about that fake wheelbarrow, there was no turning back.

Sorry, Mom!

Book Review # 7 - Dress Your Family In Corduroy and Denim

What if you could write about whatever you wanted? What if no topics were off limits, no person's feelings or privacy taken into consideration, no personal flaws purposely left unmentioned in order to be protected from ridicule?

You would probably write exactly like David Sedaris.

To actually write like David Sedaris, however, you'd also have to be intelligent, impeccably attentive to details and most importantly - uncommonly funny. With that winning combination, Sedaris's unencumbered writing creates a truly fascinating look into his life and way of thinking.

Take, for instance, a neighborhood family that supposedly doesn't watch any television. You've know them, or at least heard about them. But have you hidden yourself in bushes outside their house watching them at night? Sedaris spied on this family with fascination, watching them interact at the dinner table during the evenings and feeling sorry for the absence of television in their lives. After watching one of their children at school being left out of a joke that made reference to a TV show, Sedaris writes, "It occurred to me that they needed a guide, someone who could point out all the things they were unable to understand. I could have done it on weekends, but friendship would have taken away their mystery and interfered with the good feeling I got from pitying them. So I kept my distance."

Then, when this same family showed up for Trick-Or-Treating the day after Halloween, Sedaris expresses what must be universally believed: "Asking for candy on Halloween was called trick-or-treating, but asking for candy on November first was called begging, and it made people uncomfortable. This was one of the things you were supposed to learn simply by being alive, and it angered me that the Tomkeys did not understand it."

The subject matter varies wildly from chapter to chapter, but each contains Sedaris's hilarious spin on what would probably appear to most outsiders, nothing to write home about. Although there are several uncomfortable chapters that touch on situations involving his homosexuality, his willingness to expose himself, and, I suppose his willingness to expose his loved ones, give his writing an important and appreciated perspective. It's so enjoyably honest! I mean, he writes about going through the Anne Frank House while simultaneous apartment hunting and wanting to live there because it's "cute." Totally irreverent. But when he talks about ripping out the wood stove so that the fireplace would be the focal point and thinking the attic, with its charming dormer windows, could be his office...it ends up being really funny.

The best chapter for me was called Six To Eight Black Men when he describes in laugh-out-loud detail the Christmas traditions in the Netherlands. Of course he begins the chapter by pointing out some of the more unusual local gun laws in various states of the USA, mentioning as an interesting fact that in Michigan - blind people are allowed to hunt...alone. As the chapter nears its end, and you wonder what the two stories have to do with each other, he finishes by sharing his thoughts while sitting in a Dutch train station. "I couldn't help but feel second-rate. Yes, the Netherlands was a small country, but it had six to eight black men and a really good bedtime story. Being a fairly competitive person, I felt jealous, then bitter. I was edging toward hostile when I remembered the blind hunter tramping off alone into the Michigan forest. He may bag a deer, or he may happily shoot a camper in the stomach. He may find his way back to the car, or he may wander around for a week or two before stumbling through your back door. We don't know for sure, but in pinning that license to his chest, he inspires the sort of narrative that ultimately makes me proud to be an American."

Funny, funny stuff.

Book Review #6 - Crossing To Safety

Written by Wallace Stegner, author of one of my all-time favorite books Angle of Repose, Crossing To Safety describes with beautiful prose the art and act of friendship.

Two couples, Larry and Sally Morgan and Sid and Charity Lang, are both young couples living in Madison, Wiscosin during the Great Depression. Larry and Sid both have teaching jobs in the English Department at the university and Sally and Charity are both pregnant with similar due dates. The friendship between the four of them are instant and fully requited, and, as the novel begins with the Morgans visiting the Langs in their later years, obviously life long.

The title of the book comes from a poem written by Robert Frost that goes:

“I could give all to Time except-except

What I myself have held. But why declare

The things forbidden that while the Customs slept

I have crossed to Safety with? For I am There

And what I would not part with I have kept.”

I regrettably admit that I don't usually understand poetry without someone explaining to me its meaning. I think...I think this has to do with the intangible but still very real benefits of meaningful relationships. That those benefits exist even after death. But I could be wrong.

Like many, I assume, I long for that kind of meaningful friendship. One incredible thing about this book is that it adds to my longing without particularly making me want to BE a part of the book. The characters Stegner creates are so vividly real, I know...just know, that I couldn't be great friends with Charity. She's way too controlling. Likewise, I'd walk all over Sally. I need an equal sharer! Unfortunately, like almost every other character in the book, I don't have enough respect for Sid and Larry is much too full of himself to enjoy for long periods of time.

While I don't want to be their friends, in particular, I still envy their friendship. I want something similar. Only I want that one great friendship to be with people that don't bug me.

This book contains no great drama - no affairs or divorces, deaths or mysterious crimes - the journey of their friendship is compelling enough. He describes with such detail the universal jealousies, the generosity and benevolence of close friends, as well as the inevitable judgment that we make about others' relationships.

It's more than just a story about friendship and marriage, however. The characters themselves are literary looking glasses, exposing our own ambitions, priorities, tolerance, vices, pride, loyalty and egos. If you enjoy literature, and don't need an exotic story but find satisfaction in honest reality, you'll probably enjoy this quiet gem.

SPT - Because of a Blogger

I don't decorate, or throw elaborate parties, so I've felt unable to contribute to this past months' SPT weekly themes.

That doesn't mean that there haven't been many bloggers who have influenced my behavior and world since this online era of my life began.

Because of a blogger, I.....

• sometimes attempt to de-oil my hair with baby powder on the days I don't wash it.
  
• have some rockin' tunes to listen to when I exercise.
• found a bookclub during a transient year.
• discovered the joy that comes with the delivery of a fruit bouquet.
• found a speck of courage within myself I wasn't entirely sure I had.
• have several pieces of fabulous jewelry.
• made a delicious peach cobbler.
• have read Joan of Arc by Mark Twain.
  
• have recently tried using rubbing alcohol in place of antiperspirant (It works!)
• think of staying at Hampton Inns first.
• have a summer cookbook that I love and use as much as I can.
• know the words, or at least one variation, to the song "I'm Going On A Bearhunt."
• Have been on a street named 0.5 road.
• know where to find fantastic personalized stationary.

There are, of course, many more things I could add. I don't think the specifics are my exact point, however. The point is..

my life is sweeter because of.....

YOU!

taking my freshly baked peach cobbler to Enrichment

Book Review #5- The Host

Stephanie Meyer breaks away from her vampire romance juggernaut to introduce a new story involving alien parasites called "souls"- shiny centipede looking species, that invade planets around the universe, take over the dominant species and, in their altruistic view, make them better.

As they overtake Earth, and secretly begin invading the bodies of humans, relationships are torn apart as loved ones bodies remain in tact, but the person inside is replaced with a higher evolved and peace-loving soul - the only physical evidence of takeover being eyes that are now reflective. Humans struggling to remain human take desperate measures to hide and survive. Melanie Stryder and her younger brother, Jamie, both human, are discovered stealing food when another rogue human, Jared, discovers them. Jared and Melanie form an intense bond and the three become a tight-knit family. When Melanie is discovered by a Seeker, a member of this alien race whose main purpose is to discover, catch and transform any remaining humans, her body become inhabited by a soul who goes by the name of Wanderer. Wanderer struggles to control Melanie's being as flashes of Melanie's memories, feelings and urges all complicate the normally peaceful process. Eventually, Wanderer chooses to leave her peaceful peers and, using Melanie's memories, discovers where Jared and Jamie are now hiding with other human rebels.

First of all, this book should never have been given the title The Host. The host is Melanie and this is not Melanie's story. It is Wanda's (the name Wanderer is eventually shortened to). Melanie is a strong character and certainly influences the direction of the plot, but as Wanda is developed more and more, and establishes her own relationships with supporting characters, the conflict, climax and resolution all focus on Wanda and her journey. Call it The Wanderer. Or The Soul. Or The Beautiful Shiny Centipede-looking thing.

Secondly, the entire story was too long. Wanda, separate from Melanie, falls in love with another human, Ian. But she looks like Melanie and is influenced by Melanie's feelings so she's attracted to Jared. Jared hates Wanda, because she essentially killed the woman he loved. Except that she looks like Melanie. And he is attracted to Melanie. Ian falls in love with Wanda, and her gentle altruism, and becomes convinced he'd be attracted to Wanda regardless of what form she takes - even her shiny centipede form. I don't think so, but Ian was one of those good-all-the-time-guys so...I guess. Ergo conflict. Jared-Melanie-Ian. Jared-Wanda-Ian. Wanda-Melanie-Ian. Wanda- Melanie-Jared. I found this love triangle storyline interesting and complicated. Unfortunately, it was too drawn out alongside several other different story lines, including Wanda's life being in danger from angry humans, Wanda's realization that her species was wrong to eradicate human beings, descriptions of Wanda sleeping on hard dirt (again and again), the angry Seeker who inexplicably won't go away, the plot to get medicine, the plot to get food, the plot to recover other humans, the plot give Melanie her body back and on and on and on. By its end, I was tired. Overloaded with perhaps interesting, but too much, information. The idea of sequels makes me shudder.

If it sounds like I'm Stephanie Meyer bashing, I'm not. I think she comes up with unbelievably original ideas. I simply don't like how she tells them. I think her stories are better suited for movies, or - if she would really, really try - shorter books. There should be a really good reason to justify publishing over 600 pages and this doesn't seem to have one. Except that all parties involved must have known that based on the Twilight series success, this book would sell like hotcakes. Why not make it heavy and charge more?

In the end, this is an average book. Not awful but not great. For me, the ride ends here.

I Love Three Things

"I love three thing," Sam announced out of nowhere. "Star Wars, Transformers and Rock and Roll."

"Just those three? What about The Backyardigans?"

"Oh yeah. I love the backyardigans."

"What about pizza?"

"I love pizza!"

"What about your family?"

"Yeah. I love my family. And my friends. Alec and Matt and Clark."

"What about your kindergarten teacher and art?"

"I know! I love art."

(he looks at me with the cutest smile ever)

"I guess I love a lot of things."

"Me too. You're one of them. You and Rock and Roll."

Maybe I've Had It Wrong This Whole Time...

I just finished making cheesy potatoes. At 8:30 in the morning. That means, for the last 45 minutes or so, I've already peeled and boiled potatoes, chopped onions, grated the potatoes and cheese, made a creamy soup base on the stove (I miss dumping cans of soup in!) and mixing it all together to create something cheesy and delicious. Why have I produced such starchy goodness so early in the morning?

For a funeral.

It's not for anyone I know. Well....Jay knows of him. A patriarch of a large area clan passed away and if any of his 13 children, 50 grandchildren or 77 great grand children show up (of course they will), they'll probably need some food afterward.

The compassionate service leader who called asked me asked if I'd make a salad or "funeral potatoes". I've long since translated that misnomer into what I believe should be called "cheesy potatoes". However, this is the first time I've made them for an actual funeral. If this is standard fare...perhaps the best name for this dish is "funeral potatoes." Kind of a dark and dreary title - but if they provide a service in a time of need? Then no.

This realization is forcing me to rethink some things. For instance, maybe... just maybe, Jay's calling the small storage area in cars and boats a"glove compartment" is more appropriate than my calling it a "jockey box." Although, you have to admit, "Jockey Box" is A LOT more fun to say.

Do you have any wrong names for things?

Book Review #4 - Anna Karenina

At the conclusion of Karenina's 800 plus pages, I add my name to Tolstoy's long list of admirers. What a thinker! Like a talented photographer, Tolstoy has an eye for realism and his writing inside the heads of his characters is perfection. For a book where nothing really happens (besides wealthy people hanging out in various places...and a few people dying) to still manage to have such a fascinating effect on readers takes a certain kind of genius. So many times, while reading, I thought to myself, "Nothing is happening. How did Tolstoy get away with writing this and why are we all convinced it's one of the greatest novels of all time?" Continued reading converted me, as it has the masses, but it reminds me of an old movie, where the story stands alone, without being propped up by special effects and dramatic music. It's good - naked.

These are my take-away overall impressions. But, there were some very frustrating moments that happened along the way. Sometimes, my eyes blurred as I waited for Levin, a wealthy land-owner who has no understanding or appreciation for insincerity and falseness (characteristics that run rampant among his aristocratic peers), to finish his conversation with the peasants or friends about farm management. The amount of time Tolstoy dedicated on a Russian painter living in Italy, and his opinion about art and technique and style seemed wholly unnecessary to me. Almost like Tolstoy introduced the portrait, knowing he'd need it later in the story for contrast, but couldn't simply write leave it at that. Instead, he had to include whatever obscure experience or knowledge he had about art too...throw it into another character. I felt, a bit, like I was being taken on a ride.

Obviously, I am a modern reader, and need my greatest-novels-of-all-time written modernly! Imagine, me...little reader from nowhere, thinking, "This Russian guy needs an editor!"

I include the critical thoughts along the way, because I don't think I'm alone in thinking Anna Karenina is, perhaps,a little bloated. However, bloated or not, this is an incredible, incredible book. Embarrassingly incredible. Like, how in the world does Tolstoy see the ridiculous inside everyone's head? How does he know how insecure a man like Levin is - a man, who from the outside, appears to have everything? How does he understand how a woman can be instantly irritated and irrational from something that her lover has said, or...more frequently, has not said?

It's not only the realism that makes this book famously good. It's the artful way he makes his case against falseness. Through one of his dual protagonists, Levin, he cleanly paints his case with soft, muted colors - conversations, thoughts, and actions - that reflect,ultimately, a very likable character. Levin does the right thing, usually thinks the right thing - so his thoughts are beautiful, enjoyable thoughts. If Levin hates falseness - well...I will hate falseness too!

Then, on a canvas located directly beside the pretty picture, he paints Anna, with dramatic boldness - including the vividness but also the awful, the disturbing, and chaotic result of a woman, who, every bit as passionately, hates falseness too. Whereas Levin is ultimately rewarded for his inability to accept hypocrisy, Anna, a woman we know isn't really bad, but who makes choices that aren't sympathetic either, is punished for it.

It may seem bizarre to review a book named Anna Karenina and only now mention her. I was surprised that this isn't more her book. Her story, along side Vronsky's, is certainly the most intense and tragic, but the novel's overall point isn't limited to her infidelity, or about her choice to leave her husband and child (which is what I thought it was going to be about. Even my husband, when he saw I was reading this said, "Oh. Reading the adultery book, huh?").

In fact, it's about a group of Russia's aristocratic upper class, and their motivations and justifications about the way they live their lives. Their stories are all tangled together and each of their decisions and actions create shock waves throughout the group. Tolstoy shows how, even within a privileged group such as this, where access to information, money, justice etc., supposedly is the same, how differently they think and choose to behave. There's the brilliance. I read a quote from another famous author who said that if the world could speak on it's own, it would sound like Tolstoy. Exactly.

Thousands of reviews have been written about this book, and I certainly have nothing new to add, but, if you have hours and hours of spare time or a penchant for 19th century Russian socioeconomic exposés or simply enjoy the thoughts of a great mind - read this book.

For The Love Of Hunter

Believe me. Pete has nothing on Hunter.

On Monday, Seth and Sam were outside in the backyard playing with their light sabers. At some point, a neighbor boy who shares our Backyardigan-like common area came over to where they were playing, introduced himself, and then played with both of the boys for awhile. When it was time for dinner, Seth and Sam dominated the conversation gushing over their new friend, Hunter.

At around 7:00 that evening, the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, I found myself staring at a cute, curly-haired boy with dimples.

"Hi. I'm Hunter. I met Seth and Sam outside today. I just wanted to come over and introduce myself."

Every mother's dream, right? I was completely impressed with this very polite boy.

Hunter is in fifth grade so there isn't many opportunities for friendship except in the backyard, after school. Still, that didn't stop Seth and Sam from attempting to scope out their new hero at school. When I picked them up from school on Tuesday, I could only listen as they excitedly told each other about their independent Hunter sightings.

Seth: "I think I saw him in line outside."

Sam: "I saw him! I yelled, "Hunter!" but he didn't notice me. I think I'm too tiny."

In unison: "MOM? CAN WE PLAY WITH HUNTER WHEN WE GET HOME?!"

Of course, homework came first, but I was surprised that as soon as they were done (which was fast as lightning...I've got some sweet motivational tools now), Hunter was outside waiting to play with them as well.

I admit to eavesdropping. Seth is a very enthusiastic friend, and I worry that he'll exhaust this older boy with his eagerness. He clearly has a crush on his new friend. Although, so far, Hunter doesn't seem to mind. He even happily includes Sam (who, by the way, refers to Hunter as his new best friend).

Now, everything comes down to playing with Hunter. Cub scouts on Friday...Seth's former favorite extracurricular activity? "Awww. Do I have to go? I wanted to go home to play with Hunter!"

College football games on Saturday? No...BYU football on Saturday? "I'm going outside to see if Hunter is home from soccer yet." It's amazing. Hours go by without any requests for snacks, watching a Transformer episode, or playing the Wii (which, now that school has started, is only an option on Saturdays). Every minute of their free time has been spent in either hopeful or actual play with our new neighbor friend. In fact, as I'm typing this, I'm listening to my favorite sound in the word - my boys giggling and being genuinely happy while they play. With Hunter, of course. (Written on Saturday evening).

It all began with light sabers - which is still the game of the day.

Truth be told...I think even I have a crush on Hunter!

Be Happy...And Do Good Stuff

This is what I would have titled my Sacrament Meeting talk, if talks got titles. I mean, they do receive titles when published in the Ensign, but that isn't going to happen to this talk any time soon.

Mostly, it's for my parents, who always want to know what I had to say. We were assigned the topic of the 13th Article of Faith, which was a fantastic topic for me to think about all week. It really helped to combat against the angst that came from having my sweet boys introduced to some of the ugly in the world.

It’s probably not very politically correct to admit that I rank sacrament meeting topics. I mean, obviously, I think any topic the bishopric chooses to edify and uplift its congregation is the best topic of the day. However, anyone that’s had to prepare a talk knows this truth - that some topics that are simply easier, more pleasant, more interesting, and have more sources than others. When Brother Brown told us our topic was the 13^th Article of Faith, I admit to doing an imaginary sacrament meeting talk assignment happy dance – which, by any standard, is still pretty subdued.

While I still feel enthusiastic about this topic, I must admit that thinking about it is much easier than actually speaking about it. Like most speakers, I imagine, I hope that the things I’ve studied and feeling, combined with the spirit of the Lord, will effectively be communicated to you today.

I’ve spent the majority of my post-BYU ward life serving in the primary where there is an emphasis placed on learning and memorizing all 13 Articles of Faith. The primary songbook has a song for each article of faith and I’ve recently discovered that in our own ward’s primary, every fifth Sunday, the sharing time is devoted to teaching the young children of our ward these basic tenets of our beliefs. There is a thrill when a primary aged member of the church tackles and successfully memorizes the 13^th article of faith. It’s the longest of the bunch and when you can finally spew the whole thing out, you know you’ve done something special. As much as I admire this focus in the primary program to know each article of faith, by its number, I also think it’s a good idea for all members of the church, regardless of age, to reflect on the words of the articles of faith and develop a testimony and personal code of conduct that reflects these beliefs.

L. Tom Perry told us in a 1998 conference address that the 13^th article of faith “tells us how we, members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, should conduct our lives and present ourselves before the peoples of the earth.”

The 13^th Article of Faith states: “We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men, indeed, we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul – We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.”

See what I mean about a good topic? There is some awesomely meaty stuff in it and any one of those adjectives or actions could be a subject matter all by itself. When attempting to narrow down the subject matter, it’s hard to get past the very first word, “honest” without wanting to “hold the horses” and get more specific. Imagine how much better would the world be, and our own personal and family lives, if everyone were all honest all of the time? It almost seems negligent to give a talk containing that subject matter and only briefly mention .

In fact, I found myself pausing at each word that followed, “true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, doing good to all men, etc. etc.” and thinking “Oooooh…. I should talk about that!”

My mind hasn’t settled on any of these particularities this past week, but, rather, I found myself focusing on the 13^th article of faith as a whole. Additionally, I thought of its placement as the caboose of the 13. It’s as if Joseph Smith, when organizing this explanation of what we believe, which contains radically different doctrine than most other Christian faiths, he finished with an explanation point at the end of it all declaring, “And look! We’re happy and do we do good stuff too!”

We are, or we really should be, happy. And we do, or really should be doing, good stuff. President Hinckley was a known beacon of optimism throughout his lifetime of service in the church. After he was newly ordained as the 15^th president of the church, he declared in June of 1995, “I see so many good people everywhere – and there’s so much of good in them. And the world is good. Wonderful things are happening in this world. This is the greatest age in the history of the earth. “

There really is much good in the world. You wouldn’t know it by listening to the radio, watching TV or even reading most books these days. Since goodness is not being handed to us on a silver platter, it is our job to go looking for it. The happiness will come when we discover these nuggets of goodness hidden all over the place.

That doesn’t mean that we aren’t surrounded by horrible awfulness. We are. It would be understandable to feel overwhelmed with fear, stress and concede to Satan’s apparent lop-sided victory right now. But the Lord tells us in John 14:27, “Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid and again in D&C 25:13 to “Lift up thy heart and rejoice, and cleave unto the covenants which thou hast made.”

President Hinckley knows this admonition from the Lord is possible to accomplish when we possess a spirit of optimism and actively “seek anything virtuous, lovely, of good report or praiseworthy.” He said in April of 1986, “I am asking that we stop seeking out the storms and enjoy more fully the sunlight. I am suggesting that as we go through life we “accentuate the positive.” I am asking that we look a little deeper for the good, that we still our voices of insult and sarcasm, that we more generously compliment virtue and effort. I am not asking that all criticism be silenced. Growth comes of correction. Strength comes of repentance. Wise is the man who can acknowledge mistakes pointed out by others and change his course. What I am suggesting is that “each of us turn from the negativism that so permeates our society and look for the remarkable good among those with whom we associate, that we speak of one another’s virtues more than we speak of one another’s faults, that optimism replace pessimism, that our faith exceed our fears. When I was a young man and was prone to speak critically, my father would say: “cynics do not contribute, skeptics do not create, doubters do not achieve.” Close quote.

More and more, these days, seeking out the good, shunning the bad, and remaining positive through it all will surely separate us from the much more popular trend to view the world with sarcasm, cynicism, and a spirit of superiority. It can be a scary thing to stand up for virtue, chastity, benevolence, and truth when someone with more money or fame declares these values to have little to no worth. But, as our article of faith declares, “We seek after these things.” We should not be afraid of our creed. The Lord said, in D&C 6:33-34, 36, “Fear not to do good… for whatsoever ye sow, that shall ye also reap…Fear not, little flock; do good; let earth and hell combine against you, for if ye are built upon my rock, they cannot prevail….Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.”

I believe amazing things will happen if we, as a church, truly live the 13^th article of faith. First of all, we, individual members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, must make it a personal article of faith – tuning our attitude in perfect harmony with these principles of virtue. There is a poem that goes:

Your task; to build a better world, “God said.

I answered, “How?”

The world is such a large, vast place, so complicated now.

And I so small and useless am. There’s nothing I can do”

But God in all his wisdom said, “Just build a better you.”

In September of 2004, President Hinckley instructed us that, “Reformation of the world begins with reformation of self.” President N. Eldon Tanner encouraged church members in 1982 that “It is the individual responsibility of each of us to so live that we may extend our influence for righteousness to others who, seeing our good works, will be led to glorify our Father in Heaven. As we have often heard, the way for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.”

Brigham Young stated, in his uniquely straightforward way, “We want the Saints to increase in goodness, until our mechanics, for instance, are so honest and reliable that this Railroad Company will say, “Give us a “Mormon” Elder for an engineer, then none need have the least fear to ride, for if he knows there is danger, he will take every measure necessary to preserve the lives of those entrusted to his care. I want to see our Elders so full of integrity that they will be preferred by this Company for their engine builders, watchmen, engineers, clerks, and business managers. If we live our religion and are worthy of the name of Latter-day Saints, we are just the men that all such business can be entrusted to with perfect safety; if it cannot it will prove that we do not live our religion”

President James E. Faust said much more demurely, “I plead for greater consistency between our beliefs and actions.” Yes. That makes sense. We must actually do what we say we believe. If we aren’t doing this, aligning our actions with our beliefs, then we become just like the scribes and Pharisees spoken of in the New Testament who were condemned by Christ when He told them “This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, and honoureth me with their lips; but their heart is far from me. But in vain they do worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.”

This past week, I’ve experienced an interesting mixture of goodness and vice. To begin with, I had this wonderful opportunity to spend hours of my time studying the words of prophets and inspired church leaders, finding new meaning in the scriptures and more closely understanding Heavenly Father’s plan when He said, “Men are that they might have joy.”

On the other hand, three separate times this week….three, my young children have come home from school with new, and not at all virtuous, information. I’ll spare you the specifics, in case your own children are still safety sheltered from these topics, but it’s forced some interesting discussions in our home. The overall theme of the week has been “Our ways are not their ways.” More importantly, “The Lord’s ways are not the worlds’ ways”. When things like this happen, and ugliness is planted in front of our doorstep, It’s slightly tempting to hate the world. Yes, these realities exist, but do you want to know what else happened this week? Yesterday, when going through my son Sam’s Friday folder, I pulled out a handout recruiting volunteers to help stain the concrete in the Kindergarten courtyard in order to reduce the glare from the sun for the teachers. I smiled as I recognized the name of a ward member organizing the effort. That member out there being happy and doing good stuff! On Wednesday, I took my youngest to an informal preschool that has been organized by another ward member for 2 and 3 year olds. Henry came home so animated and happy and excited about his decorated square block. This member is out there being happy and doing good stuff. Thursday evening, The Relief Society put on a beautiful program and dinner, serving us sisters in the ward and providing us uplifting, lovely, praiseworthy things to think about and enjoy. I watched those involved and they were happy and doing good stuff. This weekend, the young women’s program offered a night of babysitting so that couples could strengthen their relationships; parents could get recharged and goes to the temple. They were happily doing good stuff. These were things that I saw with only my own two eyes. What did you see? Or, more importantly, what did you do?

You may have noticed that I’ve quoted President Hinckley a lot throughout this talk. Admittedly, when searching for talks on the subject of optimism and good works, which have been given throughout the years, President Hinckley’s past words flood the results page. It’s no secret why this is. He embodied the qualities and behaviors found in the 13^th article of faith in his everyday life. He was honest - always – so that he had nothing to hide from the surliest of all journalists. He was true – he never waivered in implementing his vision for the saints. He constantly promoted chastity and faithfulness - both to the youth and to adult singles, but also to married couples who still need this virtue for strong and healthy relationships. Benevolence – he exhausted himself with his benevolence. His worldwide travels, the establishment of the perpetual education fund, increased humanitarian aid and relief efforts - he worked tirelessly for the benefit of mankind. He hoped for all of us to do a little more….be a little better, he certainly endured a lifetime of service, and he sought after the beautiful, the virtuous, the lovely, the praiseworthy by building beautiful temples around the world as well as the conference center in Salt lake City where incredible concerts and world class talent comes to perform.

We should all equally strive to live the 13^th Article of Faith. We should be honest – all of the time. Mark Twain said, “If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.” Funny, but still good advice. We should fulfill our responsibilities in the things we’ve committed to. Return phone calls (I really need to work on this one). Check off that New Year’s resolution. Follow through! Now, we may not have the means to establish a perpetual education fund but we can certain contribute to the church’s. Moreover, we can seek after our own education and the education of those around us so that we are able to gain knowledge and skills that will benefit us and those around us. We can attend the temples that now dot the earth and, like the young women’s program did this week, make it possible for others to have the opportunity to go. We probably won’t have to endure an intense calling in life until our 96^th year, but we can serve and enjoy the callings we do have. Look for the good in them. Durango seems filled with so many things that are lovely and praiseworthy – support these things. Supporting good things encourages more good things in the future. President Hinckley said, “In large measure, we get what we ask for. The problem is that so many of us fail to ask and, more frequently, fail to express gratitude for that which is good.”

Men are that they might have joy. We are that we might have joy. Christ – in the Garden of Gethsemane, suffered to take away our pains, our stresses, our worries, our sins. This central act of the gospel makes this joy possible. Live the 13^th article of faith. Live the gospel and you will find yourself happy….and doing lots and lots of good stuff.

Forgive the errors. I realized while giving my talk, that some of the wording doesn't come out right, and I changed it on the spot, but don't feel up to editing.

Jay gave a great talk about what we believe in being and what we seek after. Being the lover of history that he is, he included lots of historical background, which I found very interesting. We're glad it's over, but we're also glad that we had this opportunity.

A Spectator No Longer

Moments ago, in the buzz of excitement that comes with going through Friday folders and upcoming weekend freedom, Sam, in his non-stop post school jibber-jabber, said, "Did you know that boys can marry boys?"

This out-of-the-blue statement was met with a moment of silence and frustration.

Once I was mentally ready, I replied, "Where did you hear that?"

"At school. A girl in my class, Ellen, said that her uncle just married a boy."

As Seth was listening, and obviously interested, I couldn't simply give an age appropriate answer followed by distraction. No, I had to explain the difference between what we believe as latter-day saints, and how some parts of the world, including several states in the United States of America, view things.

I had to explain - to my five year-old, that we have been taught, by a prophet of God, that marriage is between a man and woman - not a man and a man and not a woman and a woman.

I had to explain - to my five year-old, that while we are commanded to love everyone, we are also commanded to only be "in love" with a person of the opposite gender. For me...a boy. For them....girls.

I'm really, sincerel and earnestly hoping that Seth, with his newly acquired knowledge about the mechanics of sex, is not forced to apply his eight year-old maturity and understanding to this new addition to the equation.

Again, my problem is not having the discussion. I have no doubt that in our current times and seasons, that these statements and questions will be addressed, corrected and answered in every household at some point. I can imagine that there are some parents who will be delighted to have their five and eight year-olds coming home from school not only knowing, but also believing, that it is fine and just for a boy to marry a boy. That is what the current popular wave of propaganda is desperately trying to convince the masses..

However, I have come to my own realization this week, while being forced to explain the world's moral decline, that there is a growing difference between what is accepted by society and what is right.

I believe that marriage is between a man and a woman. That is what I believe. I think this unit of society is the ideal structure for children to be raised in and I think the ideal should be granted the highest possible benefits - both on earth and eternally. That may leave out a few members of society from being "married". I have wrestled with that exclusion. But, on a fundamental level, I must do what President Hinckley encouraged us to do when he said, "Rise, and stand upon thy feet, and speak up for truth and goodness and decency and virtue."

I suppose the silver lining of all this week's many discussions, is that it got me off the sidelines. I have decided to stand and I will stand for truth.

Oh, I Think They Must Be Growing...

I took all three boys to the pediatrician today after school for their annual check ups. For some CRAZY reason, I thought having all three at the same time would reduce the stress in my life.

I was so wrong.

That hour and a half (from start to finish) about did me in. And, of course, I couldn't lose my cool there because the place is swarming with all sorts of higher-ups who have CPS on their speed dial.

Thankfully, while they may have been a handful to contain in our small 9 X 12 exam room, they were actually really good for the doctor and, in general, very healthy boys.

For the record, here's how they've grown:

Seth
55 in (94% for height)
63 lb 8 oz (65 % for weight)

He has a hard time keeping his eyes open during outdoor pictures.

Sam
46.5 in (78% for height)
48 lb (74% for weight)

Two bottom teeth gone. Like the purple mustache? And the squished eyelashes? So cute.

Henry
35 in (18 % for height)
29 lb (35 % for weight)

Dirty and a little overexposed, but you can't beat that smile.

They are all following their typical growth curves, although Sammy has slowed down with his height. And Henry, while small, has moved up from his usual 5th percentile curve, so we're thrilled.

Yes, they're growing, all right. In more ways than just physically. Tonight at the dinner table, Sammy showed us his middle finger. Not knowing if he knew what he was doing, we asked him, "what about it?" I guess two of his friends AT KINDERGARTEN taught him that it's the finger you're not supposed to show people.

I'm glad he didn't interpret "people" to include us so that we could have yet another important conversation with our children about what we do and what we don't do. I know we can't raise the boys in a bubble, and I've never even wanted to, but.....

C'MON PEOPLE! Let them be innocent for more than a day.

The Talk - Part I

Last week, I attended the elementary school open house to visit my children's classrooms, sign up for various volunteer opportunities and meet their teachers.

I loved Sam's kindergarten teacher. She embodies everything a kindergarten teacher should be: warm, kind, loves learning, loves teaching, loves children. Nothing but good feelings in that room.


I had much more of a lukewarm reaction to Seth's third grade teacher. Nothing that made me strongly dislike her, but she seemed....ambivalent....aloof even. When I asked her how she thought Seth was doing, I almost got the feeling that she wasn't quite sure who Seth was. The only information I got was that he's quiet (but she likes quiet boys) and that his handwriting needs work. I admit, I'm more used to teachers that gush about Seth, because he's generally gush-worthy, so perhaps I'm simply reacting to my own bias. I hope not. I signed up to volunteer in the classroom to get more information.

My background check hasn't cleared yet, so I still haven't been in, but yesterday, something happened that gave Seth's teacher another demerit on her scorecard.

Jay didn't get home until after 7:00 and the boys were just finishing their baths in our bathtub. Jay changed into his running clothes, we had family prayer and as I lay Henry down in his crib and then sat on Sam's bed while he read me Goodnight Moon, Seth told Jay about his day at school.

With the kind of nervous silliness that only eight year old boys seem to possess, I heard Seth declare out of the blue, "My teacher had her baby BEFORE she was married." I'm sure he made this announcement because it was something he didn't understand and wanted help making sense of it.

I could feel Jay's discomfort from the other room. As we've always told the boys the proper order of things (high school, college/mission, marriage, family), Seth was really asking how it was possible to have a baby without being married.

Excellent question. I've been wanting to have this conversation with Seth for months but couldn't seem to create the right situation to discuss it. I've always imagined a day or evening, either at a restaurant or park, where all three of us are present (Jay, me and Seth) and me doing most of the talking, because I'm so much more comfortable with this kind of information than Jay, but having Jay give the necessary boy's perspective when needed.

With my brain split right down the middle, one ear listening to Sam and encouraging his reading, and another straining to hear the conversation in the other room, I vaguely heard Jay telling Seth about Heavenly Father's plan and the importance of families and about how the best time for babies to come is when there is a mom and dad, married to each other, ready to love and raise that baby together. Seth seemed to have heard all of this before though and, later, Jay told me that our usual answer didn't satisfy him anymore. There was still a look of confusion on his face.

Right after Sam said, "Three little bears sitting on chairs", I hear Jay ask, "Do you know what sex is?"

Oh my gosh! I'm missing it! I'm missing the talk and Seth's reaction and I'm missing sharing what I think is important and I'm missing this perfect opportunity when it's Seth's that's curious and not me that decides it's time to give him his dose of life knowledge.

I couldn't hear all of it. I heard body parts mentioned and I heard Seth say, "Have you done that?" Later, I got the full story from Jay, including all of what was said and Seth's reaction. It was a sweet (albeit uncomfortable for Jay) moment between this particular father and son and there really isn't anything else I would have added. It was a great start.

I'm disappointed that I missed Part I, but I know this will be an ongoing conversation for the next 10 or so years. I'm so proud of Jay for giving our son good, honest, and real information - full of love and respect and trust. I'm glad that Seth has this information now, to guard against the onslaught of distortions that are sure to come his way from a variety of different sources in the future.

Bring it on, third grade!

Tough Guy

Last Saturday, Jay ran his first Imogene Mountain Run. They don't call it a race, because it's more a feat of endurance than a competition for first. Or at least that's what they tell all the people who come in after first.

Many hours and miles of training have gone into this kind-of-like-a-marathon-only-harder run. Jay might get home at 7:00 pm, but before he will eat, he'll go on a quick three mile run...just to move his legs. On days where he has more time, he'll take off on a 7, 10, 12 or 15 mile run...on mountain trails. He knew this seventeen point four mile race over a 13,000 ft mountain pass would be hard, but come Saturday, he felt ready.

We left after school on Friday and took the scenic drive to Ouray, Colorado. They call it the Switzerland of the West and it's really stunning. Jay checked in, got his bib number and then fed the fan club at a local grill.

"Hey, let me get a picture of you with your shirt."

"Why don't you try smiling this time?"

Well, okay then.

Main street, Ouray, Colorado. The starting line was at the end of this street.

"Jay, pretend that you're running"

"Why? So I can look like a dork and you can post it on your blog?"

"Yes! And so everyone can see how willing you are to make me laugh"

Good sport.

We then drove to Telluride, an exquisite-but-not-real-life-small-town (because even the tiny, cute homes cost in the millions), drove around a bit to get a feel for where the finish line was, and then checked into our hotel. We're right on that cusp of needing two hotel rooms, because the only way to put the kids to bed (especially Henry) was to finally shut off all the lights. Poor Jay had to eat his Thai Kitchen noodle bowl in the bathroom.

Jay getting everything ready the night before. He wanted to make sure the safety pins wouldn't call what Andy Bernard calls "Nipple Chaffing" He later moved his number to the leg of his shorts.

He caught an early morning shuttle back to Ouray at 5:00 am and the rest of us sadly woke up shortly after 6:00 am. It's hard to keep kids quiet in hotel rooms without anything for them to do, but luckily found some Tom and Jerry on TV until the office opened for breakfast at 8:00 am.

We loaded up the car and took the free gondola ride up to Mountain Village, where we enjoyed the beautiful sunshine and panoramic views. At about 10:30, I started to feel panicky that we'd miss Jay finishing his race (which started at 7:30) and took the gondola back down to Telluride. As we were riding down, I spotted a line that looked like little ants coming down a mountain and realized that the racers were already finishing.

Enjoying the view on the way up.

Everyone taking a turn rock climbing (except for me).

Go Sam!

Just like brother

and just like brother...in his own way.

You can see the dirt road that the runners were coming down. And the mountain that they had all just run over.

At the finish line, the clock read 3:37 minutes and we watched runners coming in for about ten minutes. I honestly had no idea how long the race would take Jay, but he had said how he hoped to complete it in 4 hours, so didn't have a clue whether he was still running or wandering around wondering where his family was.

Sure enough, we missed his big finish. We missed him crossing the finish line and we missed watching his body start shaking as his muscles insisted he had done enough. By the time we saw him, he had stiffened up enough to make me appreciative of my ability to walk pain-free.

He did great. He managed to run the ten miles uphill without stopping at all until he got to the top and took a minute to drink some Gatorade, eat an orange and enjoy the view. Then, he took off on the seven downhill miles and felt like he could finish in 3:00 until his right foot started blistering. Feeling like there was a rock in his shoe, he took his shoe off for inspection but only discovered angry skin. Eventually, the skin won and he had to slow way down to deal with the pain in each step.

Yeeouch

In spite of his raw foot, sore muscles, and fanfare-less finish, he already claims to want to run again next year. That's my crazy, tough guy that goes by Jay.

Adrift

Last week, after watching the Democratic National Convention, I was very much struck with the sensation of drifting without an anchor. You see, I loved Barack Obama's speech. I felt moved...inspired even. He said everything I, a woman who can't stand bias or pandering, wanted and needed to hear. I've liked him for awhile now, even when I couldn't explain to my conservative Republican friends and family members why exactly. While I'm certainly no Obama Mama, and, in spite of my attraction to his charisma, his eloquence and his powerful oratory skill, I still recognize the flaws in some of his positions - I really do think he'd be a fantastic president. I need to believe that it's possible for a good man to do good things while in a position of power. Even if, and this is when I get into trouble, he does things differently than I might. I am no longer willing to vote for someone because they promise a smaller government, a promise no true politician will ever actually implement. After all, if they followed through, how could they ever pay back all the handlers that got them into their position of power? They couldn't, so they don't.

I don't believe by electing either Obama or McCain, that our government will be able to be anything other than the bloated mass that it has become. My interest now is in having that mass contain as little corruption as possible.

I admit to voting for George Bush in 2000 because I liked him. I didn't think he was the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he didn't claim to be, either, so I didn't hold it against him. Rather, I voted for him because he said he believed in compassion, and that he was a "uniter, not a divider". Cheesy, but, in fact, exactly what I want my president to be.

With much less enthusiasm, I voted for W. again in 2004 because I didn't think John Kerry was, in any shape or form, presidential. Additionally, I still trusted that the guys in power were doing the unpopular things they were doing in Iraq because they had to know something that we didn't. Sort of like trusting, as a teen, that even though you feel your parents might be turning you into the biggest dweeb at school by insisting you wear the patriotic one-piece jumpsuit that was modestly designed and hand sewn for you, they have your future happiness and best interests at heart.

How disappointing to discover that, apparently, they didn't even consider what was best for you. Rather than caring about your modesty, they were really hoping to create some buzz for their patriotic clothing line and hadn't given a second thought to how the unflattering jumpsuit would ruin any chance of being asked out by that boy you like. Who cares that the boy is really a jerk? The motivation was wrong. I have been utterly disappointed by the reports that reveal that the motivation to send troops to Iraq was misrepresented. I feel ashamed of my jumpsuit. And, really, quite mad that it put my family in debt with its making.

Last night, I spent the evening watching the Republican National Convention on television, trying to ignore the irritation I felt when listening to the CNN commentators and their obvious bias for Obama. Really, to listen to them describe the republican party is like listening to them try and describe an alien. Republicans are foreign to them. When speaking off the cuff and in response to a speech, it is impossible for them to cover up this fact.

Anyhoo, for the first time, I listened to Sarah Palin, a woman I'd never heard of before last Friday, and found I quite liked her. I liked her style, I liked her pluck and I loved her get-it-done attitude. In fact, I think she's a great pick by McCain for his presidential ticket. But I still didn't like her overall speech. Yes, she delivered it well and had lots of good things to say, particularly about energy independence and the over-the-top nature of private jets (and yet I wonder how many members of the republican party have private jets??) but, with her words and her attitude, it seems to me that she doesn't give a damn about anyone that doesn't think like she does. While I may think like she does, at least in part, I recognize that there are a lot more of those "anyones" than she or the Republican Party would like to admit. And those "anyones" deserve a president that cares about their side of the story too.

All this thinking leaves me uncomfortable and not at all satisfied. I've wondered if this is how someone who leaves the church might feel, although when thinking that, I then immediately acknowledge that a political party holds no comparison to the gospel of Jesus Christ. But, still, for analogy's sake, I continue the comparison. I have many conservative friends and family members who I respect and admire for their values and beliefs. But I don't share all of them anymore. It feels uncomfortable to be in a room when politics comes up and there is an assumption that everyone present is on the same page. When asked specifically where I disagree, I don't have any brilliant answers. On both sides, I see troublesome inconsistencies. For Republicans, who claim to want a smaller government, they want that small government to have a say in marriage, in morality and in what we read, watch and do. I disagree. I don't think the government gets a say. God certainly does, and that is enough for me. Likewise, Democrats claim to be for tolerance and liberty, but at such a cost for the majority. Where is the tolerance for those who don't think like them? Where is the liberty for those who want to pray in school? Irritating and insufferably superior.

In Obama's speech, he captured what I personally believe when he spoke of the symbiotic relationship that should exist between the government and its people. He spoke about the importance of individual responsibility (yes! Teach a man to fish!) but also about mutual responsibility(yes! No man is an Island!). Neither should exist without the other or all that's left are self-centered individuals or groups of people waiting for someone else to do what they should be trying to do for themselves. I wish Sarah Palin would have spoke about this last night. Instead, she spent her time fighting back at the media, which must have felt incredibly satisfying after such an abysmal display of mud-slinging on their part, but sadly does not address the more important matters facing our country. Like the mortgage crisis. Or health care reform. Or really what's in store for our military. Perhaps McCain will tonight, although, from what I've already seen and heard, I think he'll stick to what he knows - talking tough and showcasing how much he loves his country (in the truest military sense).

Just so you know....I'm not convinced I'm right. I'm still opposed to higher taxes, a bit appalled at having something in common politically with Susan Sarandon, Sean Pean or Ben Affleck and very conflicted about proposition 8 in California (although I don't have to vote, I have spent quite a bit of time wondering how I would if I did live there).

These are only my feelings and current opinions and, should you disagree, I welcome your view, as long as you're fair when presenting it and promise not to quote Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, Michael Moore or any of the high-profile "journalists" who should all be forced to work for Fox News for one year, just to see how the other half live. I think fair-minded people need a safe place for political discussion, and I promise you'll get no attacks from me here.

Not even when you call me a Marxist.

Book Review #3 - The Birth House

I should have known better than to read this. One thing I am not is pro-home birth. I'm not anti- home birth, but the more I read about the "exquisite, spiritual, satisfying" birthing of their babies, the more turned off I am by the usually-not-said-but-rather-implied understanding that any other kind of birth is not.

I know it's not true. Birthing a child is exciting and scary and hard and wonderful and one of the most memorable things any woman will do in her lifetime. But, ...more I should have known better than to read this. One thing I am not is pro-home birth. I'm not anti- home birth, but the more I read about the "exquisite, spiritual, satisfying" birthing of their babies, the more turned off I am by the usually-not-said-but-rather-implied understanding that any other kind of birth is not.

I know it's not true. Birthing a child is exciting and scary and hard and wonderful and one of the most memorable things any woman will do in her lifetime. But, the variety in which we can, and choose, to do it is wide and, thankfully, available. Writing that glorifies one means over another annoys me.

That being said, it was impossible for this book not to annoy me. With a protagonist that is an ever understanding, compassionate, holds-to-her guns midwife and the villain a heartless, thoughtless, passionless.....MAN doctor, the story was too black and white to be good. Yes, it had other merits including its vivid Nova Scotia backdrop, the increasing acceptance of independent, feminine thought during and after WWI and a somewhat interesting love story, but the bias was clear even when the writing was not (which, with all of the journal entries and articles occurred frequently).

I think women who line up on the home-birth side of the debate will love this book. It champions their clear superiority. Unfortunately, it doesn't really champion the beauty of all birth, or the most important thing of all...the availability of options.