Bumper wisdom

Yesterday I saw this bumper sticker on the back of a big truck:

THIS IS AMERICA.

SPEEK ENGLISH.

At first I chuckled, thinking that the misspelling was intentional.  A bit of ironic humor.  But then I determined that it was not a comedic bumper sticker.

And that is a sad, sad mark against English-speekers everywhere.

My daughter, the magician

I would have thought this feat impossible, as a simple knowledge of solid matter, time, and space would suggest.  But Madelyn either found a way to defy them all, or has mastered the fine art of performance illusion. 

We had just returned from picking Madelyn up at preschool.  I set her new Mickey Mouse plate on the kitchen table, and Madelyn climbed up into the stool to survey the various options portioned out between Mickey's big head and two little round ears.

Madelyn was fully dressed from her morning at school, including the Hello Kitty underwear she likes in spite of the fact that they really are too big. As she climbed up on her stool, I was reminded of the way they constantly stick out above her pants and look a little silly.  But looking a little silly is low on my list of concerns while trying to navigate the treacherous parental waters with an opinionated 3-year-old.

While Madelyn began picking at her lunch, I turned around toward the counter to put the finishing touches on my own sandwich before joining her.  My back was turned for approximately eight seconds before I heard Madelyn dismount her stool and shout, "My underwear came off!"

Incredulous, I turned around to see her running gleefully toward me, holding above her head the very underwear that I had noticed on her body, under her jeans, only moments before.  I was speechless. What could I say? I would have laughed except I was busy trying to figure out how it could have possibly been accomplished! And then, how could I possibly not play THIS scene in my head?:

See the expression on Bart's face while Grampa reads his underwear? I can relate.

My assumption is that when she used the restroom by herself at school, her pants and underwear fell off her dangling feet. When she put them back on, she got her feet into the pants holes, but didn't line them up with the underwear holes, so her underwear was simply riding along behind her, tucked neatly inside her jeans. The error wasn't noticeable since this particular pair always looks that sloppy.

A baker's dozen books

A year has now passed since the end of my literary hiatus.  After the embarrassing realization that I could count on one hand the number of books I'd read in the previous five years (or more?), I grew determined to improve that figure in 2009.  Not for bragging rights, I assure you, but because I began to recall the positive influence literature could have in my life if I allowed it.  The rediscovered desire to read only solved part of the problem, however, as my careful research revealed that a genuine deficiency of spare time would place a burden on the ambition.

The year started off with great momentum, where I finished the four books in the Twilight series in about as many weeks. After that I averaged less than one book per month until July when I read three. The difference? I returned to fiction in July, beginning with my standout favorite novel of the year: The Host by Stephenie Meyer (yep, the author of Twilight, meaning the first five novels I've read in ages were all written by the same person).  It is one of few books that I have to avoid thinking about because that mere mental imagery makes me want to read it again. I wanted to start over from the beginning the moment I read the final sentence.  And I kind of did, because after finishing it I read the first few chapters aloud to my husband on our road trip.

I joined some girlfriends in a book club at the beginning of last year, but it was several months before the group's choice appealed to me enough to read it (actually it wasn't until my turn to suggest books). I can't afford not to be selective considering my spare moments are short and the list of titles I'd like to catch up on is long.  My choice was Desperate Passage by Ethan Rarick, a chilling account of the Donner Party's tragic journey.

I finished a total of 13 books in 2009, an accomplishment I feel sheepishly proud of, if that is even possible. I started an additional three books, one of which I chose to set aside; the other two are still in progress. My list consists of nine works of fiction and four non-fiction. While I probably had more fun reading the novels, my more consequential reading experiences were certainly gleaned from some of the others.

My fiction list for 2009:

1. The Host by Stephenie Meyer. I just told you how I feel about this one.

2. Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer. It really was a funseries, and a great re-introduction to the wonderful world of being engrossed in a story to the point of distraction from more important tasks.  You can read my musings about that here.  I think my favorite in the saga is the first book--I'm such a sucker for crushes and exciting new love.  Actually, if I can count Midnight Sun, Stephenie Meyer's partial draft of Twilight written from Edward's perspective, then that is my favorite.

3. Chasing Harry Winston by Lauren Wieseberger (author of The Devil Wears Prada).  No grand, life-altering message to learn here. Just pure girly entertainment. And a bit of vicarious thrill.

4. The Familiar Stranger by Christina Berry. In spite of my lighthearted mockery of its religious theme, the story was quite interesting. Plus I got to meet the author, so that's a bonus.

5. Sarah's Key by Tatiana de Rosnay. The first half of this book was compelling and emotionally charged. After that it really lost momentum for me.

6. The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. I was disappointed in the execution of what sounded to me like a very interesting concept: a young victim narrates from her Heaven the effects she witnesses on her friends, family, and community after her death. This book was more about characters than plot, but even in such an instance there must be a storyline to drive the reader forward.  Shortly after I finished this book I saw a trailer for a movie based on it!  I am anxious to see the film, because I imagine (and hope) it will do a better job of relating the very good elements of story that did exist here and there in the novel.

My non-fiction list for 2009:

1. Left to Tell by Immaculee Ilibagiza. Why was I unaware that an appallingly brutal massacre was taking place on the other side of the world about the time I was entering high school? It is difficult for me to even comprehend modern humans slaughtering their own friends and neighbors; I find it inexcusable. And yet this Immaculee, who survived the Rwandan holocaust for 3 months in a bathroom the size of a tiny closet with nine other women while her parents and brothers were viciously murdered, finds a way to look into the eyes of one of their guilt-tormented killers. And forgive him.  You will not forget this story.

2. Desperate Passage by Ethan Rarick. I also knew literally nothing about the Donner Party--although at least their tribulations occurred before my lifetime.  I was enormously intrigued by this story and felt that the author did a tremendous job of piecing the facts together in such a way that made his historical account read as smoothly as fiction, and be just as captivating. I even shed a tear or two.  Perhaps this story should have accompanied our hours spent in the school computer lab playing "Oregon Trail."

3. Why We Buy by Paco Underhill. I like the description of this one that I wrote while only partway done reading it: "...a very entertaining bit of scientific analysis of our shopping culture. My dad randomly passed this book along to me, and since I was in need of a new book to take on a short trip, I accepted it despite the fact I wouldn't have ever chosen it off a shelf. Probably because I would have assumed the same as my friend who, upon seeing the title, thought it was a book about (and condemning, I presume she meant) our societal "consumerism." Such a finger-wagging at capitalism would never interest me, but Why We Buy could be considered the antithesis to such a book: written by a man who runs a company which covertly observes and analyzes minuscule movements and reactions of shopping humans, with the goal of aiding merchants in the quest to provide a more shopper-friendly (and therefore more profitable) store environment." 

4. Unconditional Parenting by Alfie Kohn. Okay, I bought this book for my husband as a Father's Day gift during my pregnancy. The theories described on the book jacket sounded a lot like the way Gary and I intended to parent. I finally got around to actually reading the book when our daughter was two. A few concepts resonated with me.  For example, preserving the relationship between the parent and child should always take priority--even in matters of discipline. But as an entire parenting methodology, I disagreed on many more points. I actually know a few people who disciples of this practice, and I don't admire the results.

So there you have it! Please let me know if you've read any of these books. Or if you decide to check one out, I'd love to hear your feedback afterward! We'll see if my 2010 list is also short enough to include all in a single post...

Six favorite movies of 2009

Just like on last year's list, some of these movies were not released in 2009, but I mostly watch movies through Netflix, so I get them when I get them. It's like Christmas in the mailbox every few days, I love it! In compiling my list of favorites, I discovered that in 2009 I only watched around 40 movies, compared with around 60 movies in 2008. Interesting.

My top six movies watched in 2009:

1. SEVEN POUNDS: This tale of personal redemption starring Will Smith will leave you wiping tears of disbelief.

2. TAKING CHANCE: Based on true events, Kevin Bacon portrays a USMC Lt. Col. who unwittingly ends up accompanying the body of 19-year-old Chance Phelps, a soldier whom he did not know, back to his family. The movie follows his journey and subtly conveys a message of hope and patriotism that still exists across the country.  I was especially humbled by the representation (said to be accurate by real-life Marines) of solemn ritual surrounding each step of the young man's return home.  It was a beautiful movie; unfortunately not released in theaters.

3. BURN AFTER READING: Unpredictable. Hilarious. Thought-provoking. It's one of my favorite experiences to start a movie without a clue about the story, and then love every minute of it.  Brad Pitt's character was perfect.

4. 500 DAYS OF SUMMER: The story elements were so real and vivid, but captured very creatively. I love me a uniquely portrayed story, and this one had the jumping forward and back in the relationship (tracked by number of days), the random, totally relateable musical outbreak, and the duality of expectations vs. actual events displayed simultaneously in one scene.


5. RUN, FATBOY, RUN: Quirky and hilarious tale of triumph. These independent type films are a crap-shoot, but this one goes on the 'worth it' list. Also on that list from this year are Lars and the Real Girl and Henry Poole Is Here, although they were not as outwardly funny as this one.
6. FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL: The romantic comedy usually follows a certain predictable pattern, but I found this particular movie to be fresh and distinctive. I guess male frontal nudity will do that, but the context allows it to remain goofy rather than obscene. It's just Jason Segel anyway. Ew. I'd put The Proposal and He's Just NOT That Into You next on my list for excellent rom-coms of the year.
I hope you'll watch some and let me know what you think!

A very Diznee Christmas

I must preface the forthcoming disparagement of a quaint, local holiday tradition with this disclaimer:  My family enjoyed meandering along the wooded paths of Storybook Lane viewing hundreds of painted cutouts of (mostly) beloved storybook characters. It is clear that this family-friendly exhibition on a resident's personal property is the result of years of hard work and passion, and the fact that it is offered to the community for free is greatly appreciated.  I happened to find the occasional bit of unintended humor along the way, and would like to share it with like-minded friends. But I mean no disrespect.

It was our first visit to "Storybook Lane," which is presented bi-annually by three generations of a local family at their estate. I'd heard about it. I'd read an archived newspaper article about it. But I did not know entirely what to expect. My imagination conjured up something like a very amateur Enchanted Forest (please tell me you know what I'm talking about), and that is a fairly apt description of what we found.

The very first display made me worrying about what we'd find by venturing further.  That's really not a bad rendition of Ms. DeVille. But look closely at her name on the sign.

I worried that we'd also find "Mickeney Mouse" and "Ronald Ruck" as attempted legal protection, but since the rest of the characters were clearly labeled with their Disney-given names, it became apparent that somebody simply misspelled "Cruella."

The army of mechanical snowmen was just a little too creepy for my taste.

Whoa, slow down! Carousel on fast-forward.

Here's Robin Hood hunting down his Thanksgiving turkey. Or Bambi and friends. Or some of the 101 Dalmations.  Look out, cute little animals!

I am so confused. The one character without a name tag looks suspiciously like Harry Potter ("or," as Gary dared to say, "his lesbian sister").  The glasses, the broom, he's the famous wizard, right? But "Harry" is navigating some sort of Christmas bubble helicopter, which was labeled as the Santa Express or something. Now, I didn't actually read all those books, so maybe I'm missing something when I say, "Huh?"

This video gives a nice representation of one of the more elaborate displays. You can see that this has been a labor of love, and I admire and appreciate that. A little WD-40 might make the experience slightly more magical, though.

Slow (comma) children present

I have some issues with School Zones.

First of all, why are the circumstances under which the Speed limit is reduced to 20 MPH different for each school? When children are present. School days 7am to 5pm. When flashing. When the third moon of Jupiter is in its second phase.

I like the flashing yellow light because it does not require me to back up and re-read the sign and there is no way to misinterpret that boldly blinking orb.

On the other hand, does "when children are present" encompass only the times when you can physically see children, or is that supposed to mean "during times of the day when children could possibly be in the vicinity of this school"?

And the sign specifying hours on school days doesn't give me the break from a snail's pace on any teacher work day I'm not aware of.

Secondly, I find that being forced to drive 20 miles per hour only gives a false sense of security.  At that dreadfully slow speed, I become easily entranced with a bird flitting about in the soccer field or a leaf caught mercilessly under my windshield wiper. The world becomes distracting when I'm not moving fast enough to require focus on the road.

But here's the biggest concern I have by far. It's similar to the first one, regarding a lack of consistency.  But rather than circumstances, this is about existence. In my town, there is a giant upper-elementary school (it looks big enough to be a high school but has only 4th and 5th graders enrolled) that boasts a half-mile school zone, coordinated by lovely flashing lights at both ends. I miss this one as long as I'm on time getting Madelyn to school, but have to drive through it on my way home.  I might see one or two children along that half-mile route on a good day, and the actual school building is at least 50 yards away from the road.  In addition, the entire campus is enclosed by a chain link fence, meaning that once on the property, students are only in danger of being struck by a vehicle in the parking lot.

Several blocks away is the relatively new "Community School."  This is a "free public charter school" in our district, which means it's paid for by taxes but runs more like a hippie-ish private school (and I mean that in a good way).  The school is housed in a quaint commercial building along one of the "downtown" streets of our small city.  Every morning on my way home from dropping Madelyn off, I drive along the two-lane, major one-way street in front of the Community School.  And every morning I see at least a dozen children on the sidewalks around the building, parking their bikes in front, or being escorted across the street by a parent.  I don't think this school even has a parking lot to speak of, and I highly doubt there is bus service, so parents pull into street parking spaces and shuffle their kids across to school if the children don't just walk there.  

There is no school zone for the Community School. Not one sign indicating to reduce speed for these particular students.  The front door of the school is literally a stone's throw from the cars passing by. So why doesn't the Community School get a School Zone when the safety of those children is clearly much more compromised due to its proximity to the street?

I really don't think that School Zones magically create a safe environment. I even admitted that I think in some ways only a false sense of protection is achieved. But it seems like if these zones are going to exist, it should be consistent, or if anything, they should only be enforced where danger from nearby traffic truly does exist!

At least Oregon repealed that crazy law we briefly had to endure which mandated School Zones be in effect "at all times."  Twenty miles per hour, 24 hours a day, seven days a week.  Just in case there are some kids having a cram session on the playground at 2am on Sunday night, you know.  I'll be happy with my flashing yellow lights, thank you.

Latest 'oh crap' moment

You know those moments where life is going along pleasant as pie and then you see something, remember something, or reach for something and everything suddenly changes? Do you ever have those "oh crap!" moments?

My most recent occurred Sunday night when I was gathering my family's things and preparing to leave my brother's house toward the end of a birthday party for my daughter and two nieces.  It had been a busy day and a very fun party, and I was looking forward to getting home, with a 30-minute drive home still ahead.  We piled Madelyn's newly unwrapped presents in a box and leftover cake in another. Coats had been donned and Madelyn was graciously saying goodbye to the family members that still remained.

The moment hit me specifically as I braced myself against the impending chill to take an armful of stuff out to the car before laying down the final "it's time to go" ultimatum. I went for my keys, and instantaneously recalled where I had put them: inside the blue bag I brought for my husband containing a change of clothes since he had to join us there directly from work.  After a long day of said work, he left the party about an hour earlier than we, and--you guessed it--took the bag home with him.

OH CRAP.

A quick glance around the room allowed that distinct probability to fuse its way into reality.  I made the dreadful call to my exhausted husband, who had already made the 30-minute drive home: "remember when I told you I was putting the keys in that blue bag?" The question was at first met with aggravated silence, understandably.

Now, my sister lives near me, so perhaps Madelyn and I could have ridden home with her family and returned to get my truck the next day.  I had even left it unlocked, so having a carseat for Madelyn would not be a problem. One minor detail prevented this reasonable solution, however. I had chosen to park in my brother's narrow driveway directly behind his carpet cleaning van--and he had jobs scheduled early the next morning.

We also considered a convoluted plan of riding with my parents to the extra car they had left at their church, then having my mom take me to meet Gary partway and get the keys from him. But when we realized that either my mom or Gary would have to drive me all the way back to my brother's house anyway, it became obvious that having Gary just bring me the keys was the simplest, least burdensome solution under the circumstances.

Such a bummer.  Mostly for Gary, unfortunately, since he had to leave home and spend an extra hour driving, whereas I (despite my eagerness to get home) was able to enjoy a few more minutes visiting with my brother, and Madelyn got to play with her cousin's new Tinkerbell dress-up dolls.

What are your memorable "oh crap" moments?