Trick or treat, smell my feet

For some obscure reason, our county holds the "trick-or-treat" part of Halloween on the Thursday prior, so we are venturing out tonight. Costumes are ready, bowl of candy is full.

I know I promised a book review and I do have one ready to go, but I just couldn't resist adding another treat for mommies. If you haven't seen The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane (1976) starring a very young Jodie Foster and a very creepy and un-presidential Martin Sheen, get thee to the video store or check out Netflix and add it to your queue. It's a sleeper of a movie; very 70's, short (about 90 minutes) but oh, so tightly woven together. Not a moment is wasted. I was only 10 in 1976, so I'm sure I saw it later, syndicated on t.v. I loved it. Checked the original novel out of the library as soon as I could and devoured it.

A bright, independent girl takes on the the world with the help of an equally bright dark-haired boy. What's not to like? Besides, Rynn (Jodie Foster) has a great duffel coat! Last year I stayed up until 2 or 3 a.m. watching it on Turner Classic Movies. My sweet baboo/husband was quite annoyed. He got up to see what I was up to, watched a bit and proclaimed it a wretched movie. I guess there's just no accounting for taste or moral development. Rynn and her father are certainly quite evolved morally, reaching Kohlberg's social contract level; the end justifies the means kind of thing. If you can't quite wrap your head around that, do skip the movie. You just won't enjoy yourself. However, if you can imagine doing something heinous to protect yourself or the ones you love, don't hesitate to walk down the lane on this windy October day. Be respectful, don't meddle, and don't drink the tea if it comes with a side of almond cookies.

Flickr toys are fun!

To do list
Originally uploaded by ezramom2002

This has nothing to do with books, unless you would use this to keep track of books you have read or want to read. The picture is my grandmother and her doll. Big Huge Labs has a great selection of Flickr tools. This Web 2.0 thing is pretty neat.

I'm thinking of taking this to Kinko's or Staples and having it made into pads for Christmas presents.

The person you need...

is Nanny McPhee. I loved this movie! Of course, I've thought Emma Thompson is a goddess for quite a while now. From her work in the movies Dead Again (obscure, but one of my favs) to Much Ado About Nothing and Love, Actually (Now which doll shall we give Daisy's little friend Emily? The one that looks like a transvestite or the one that looks like a dominatrix?) Did you know that she wrote the screenplay (and won the Oscar for it) for Sense & Sensibility? She adapted Nanny McPhee from the Nurse Matilda books by Christianna Brand.

"Once upon a time there was a huge family of children; and they were terribly, terribly naughty." How's that for an opening line? The first book, Nurse Matilda, is, in my opinion the best. While Thompson changed much of the storyline for the movie, separate incidents occur in both and the essence of the magical nanny is unchanged. Frighteningly unattractive, complete with warts and a snaggle tooth, Nurse Matilda/Nanny McPhee becomes lovelier each time children obey her. In the movie, there are 5 lessons to be learned: To go to bed when told, to get up when told, to get dressed when told, to listen, and to do exactly as you are told. Lesson 5 is a biggie at our house. I have to thank both Ms. Brand and Ms. Thompson for providing me with a fun way to encourage my own rapscallions to follow directions. By the third book, things seem a little formulaic, with the culminating dream chase, etc. but both the book and the movie are well worth the visit.

Did I mention that Colin Firth plays the father in the movie? No one said that mommies can't enjoy kid movies, too.

Sons and Mothers

Lynne Jonell and Petra Mathers created the wonderful Christopher and Robbie books. Author Jonell based the stories on her experiences with her own sons. It takes a mother of sons to come up with When Mommy was Mad, Mom Pie, Mommy Go Away (which could also be titled the incredible shrinking mom), I Need a Snake (who doesn't?), and It's My Birthday, Too! Mather's drawing appear crude and child-like, which is part of their appeal. One can imagine a young boy creating them to illustrate these intimate stories of everyday life.

My personal favorite is When Mommy was Mad. In the book, Robbie is concerned because Mommy forgot to kiss Daddy good-bye, is making banging sounds as she cleans the kitchen, and isn't smiling as she works in garden. Along with his brother, Robbie tries to figure out why Mommy is so mad. Could it be because he didn't get his buttons buttoned up correctly? Finally, Robbie catches the mad bug himself and becomes a "borkupine" who borks the angries right out of Mommy. Every time we read it, I am reminded of an essay I read by Thich Nhat Hanh in Peace is Every Step describing the ways anger can spread through a family unit and how, through mindfulness, that anger can be dissipated before much damage is done. I love the idea of breathing and mindfulness as coping technique for even young children.

I have long thought mothers of sons have a different perspective on the world. Talking to mothers young and old, I've noticed that mothers who raised boys just "get it." They understand a little boy's need to whip off his Indiana Jones-style hat and bow to every one he passes on the way out of church; they know that a small boy leaning over a storm grate with a library book is not really contemplating the destruction of property, but wondering if that book will fit in those rectangular holes. I'm reading and enjoying It's a Boy: Women Writers on Raising Sons by Andrea Buchanan. The essays are funny and poignant and spot-on. When my oldest was born, I, in all my feminist haze, was certain that just supplying gender-neutral toys would ensure a sensitive, evolved male. Ha! (He is sensitive, but he's also loud, physical, and fascinated by machinery and "contractions"/contraptions.) His first five words were: Momma, Daddy, more, Max (the cat) and....lawnmower. Yep. Lawnmower. Picture me rocking 18 month-old son in preparation for an afternoon nap. Ever so faintly, through the open window, we can hear a lawnmower. Eyes pop open. Boy sits up. "Lawnmower!" he exclaims, meaning, "Momma, we have to go find that lawnmower now." Nearly three years later, along came little brother who loved to eat peas and grapes simply because they resemble balls. He's the one who would pat the tv and holler "Football!" meaning, of course, that if someone would just turn it on, surely he could watch a game day or night, summer, winter, or fall.

This is not to say that mothers of girls won't enjoy the Jonell-Mathers books, just don't despair if they are mystifying. Boys are like that.

Are you a creative mom?

Just because you are a reading mother doesn't mean you alway have time to read for yourself. I've been exploring the world of podcasts, particularly knitting ones. In a roundabout way, I found the Creative Mom podcast which has a little bit of knitting and a lot about being a creative mom fostering creativity in your children. If you visit her website, even if you don't listen to the podcast, you will find links to fun and interesting projects like this great accordion book made from envelopes. I find myself eagerly awaiting the weekly podcasts which I listen to in the car after dropping my boys at the sitter's or when doing housework after the boys are asleep. I urge you to try a podcast, if you have the technology available.

my mother is the most beautiful woman in the world

Big brother and I have been reading my old copy of My Mother is the Most Beautiful Woman in World at bedtime this week. Like me, he is captivated by the descriptions of village life in a long-gone agricultural Ukraine. The pictures of fruits and veggies, the descriptions of pirgohki and blini, the big scythe are intriging to my little millenial.

Then, this morning, as we were madly dashing down the highway, late as usual, an enormous trailer carrying an excavator pulled out in front of us. Little brother, who had been shouting, "truck! truck" since we'd driven past a construction site fell silent in awe. "Momma," said big brother sotto voce, "you are the bestest momma in the whole world. I love you." Sometimes you get the credit for stuff totally beyond your realm of control.

I don't know how I do it....

There was quite the buzz over Allison Pearson's I Don't Know How She Does It when it came out a couple of years ago. It was a good read--chick lit with kids--but certainly not a Booker Prize contender. The usual hype about staying home versus earning money to waste on expensive clothes came up. The main character was run ragged by her family and her job as a hedge fund manager for a big London firm. I, of course, am not a financial whizz and am not making big bucks. I do work outside the home and try to manage both the children's area of a public library and a family of four. This week I've found myself wondering just how do I do it???? By some horrible coincidence, I scheduled appointments for myself and at least one of my children each day for three days straight. I've spent my week switching gears multiple times daily: work, pick up child, appointment, take child back to sitter, work, home, repeat. It is exhausting! The bright spot thus far was the discovery of a sweet picture book, Porcupining, starring a little porcupine yearning for love. He sings throughout in a voice that I imagine must sound like a cross between Randy Travis and George Strait. I can't wait to read it aloud to children.

Wishing everyone a chance at attaining their heart's desire this rainy fall day.