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Author: wrekehavoc

matilda by roald dahl

Posted on November 16, 2007 by wrekehavoc

we first met matilda when one of BC’s best friends gave out books in birthday goody bags instead of plastic crap. (yay, mira!!) we were further encouraged when BC’s second grade english teacher, a roald dahl fanatic and all-around amazing teacher, read the BFG and the twits to the class with great animation and admiration for the works. at this time, we’ve read the book several times. we’ve even seen the movie twice, though admittedly, the book is much, much better.

read this book.

the story, about a genius girl who faces some of the worst adults ever (including her parents and her principal), is a wonderful fantasy about how adults are not infallible — and how love can prevail. you have to laugh at the names in the book (Bogtrotter?); and you will be surprised when matilda’s parents scold her for doing something so terribly naughty as reading books instead of watching crap TV.

if words like telekinetic scare the bejeebers out of you, fear not: this is not any sort of carrie meets the horsey set. but you will laugh. i promise. and you will cheer on matilda and miss honey with abandon as the story goes on.

i think the very britishness of it is what is lost in the movie, now that i think of it. and that’s simply wrong. it’s not that danny devito or rhea perlman do a bad job; they don’t. but this is a british story within a british school and caste system. without that, it misses a bit. after all, this is the story that got BC singing: we don’t need no education. we don’t need no thought control. [note to self: don’t let her go into school singing that.]

so read the book — don’t see the movie first — or else i’ll bend a spoon, or move a desk with my mind. or something like that. cos if matilda can do it…

Matilda

otherwise known as sheila the great by judy blume

Posted on November 15, 2007 by wrekehavoc

caveat here: i heartheartheartHEART judy blume. i was a judy blume reading fiend as a young girl. i mean completely, absolutely, unalterably.

and before i go any further, i must say one thing here with clarity and feeling: thank you mom. thank you SO MUCH for not being one of those idiot parents who wouldn’t let her kids read judy blume. you know, those parents who are afraid of their kids reading books that talk about s-e-x? sassy kids who act like themselves in a book? you never thought i would turn into some sort of insane degenerate just because i was reading these and other books. you just were damn glad i was interested in reading. i mean, who knows: if i wasn’t reading about sex, i might be out there having it, instead!

(just kidding about that last one, mom.)

anyway, judy blume’s children/young adult books sort of break down into three different spheres for me. there’s the young kid sphere, with books like freckle juice. there’s the mature sphere, with books like forever (and yes, i was one of the girls who knew every page where the naughty bits were) and are you there G-d? it’s me, margaret. and then, there’s the middle of the road. the fudge chronicles, i think of them. kids are sassy, but they’re still at the point where they don’t like the opposite sex. well, not much, anyway. and while i love fudge and its subsequent sequels, i’ve always held a special place in my tiny heart for sheila the great. for any girl who ever felt afraid and hid it behind a false bravado (not that i have ever known anyone to be like that… ::whistling::), sheila is a beacon. she’s fearful of a lot of things. and, in time, she learns to welcome, and even embrace, some of them.

while the situations in the book bear little resemblance to my life, i must say that sheila is like a little alter ego for me. i love her. and plenty of tweens will, too.

Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great

memories

Posted on November 14, 2007 by wrekehavoc

sometimes, i stop and look at my kids and i learn something.

like today, f’rinstance. BC was getting ready for school. she’s participating in girls on the run, and she’s training for her first 5k. i would like to point out that i have never run 5k (not consecutively, anyway), so i’m pretty proud of her. and even if she doesn’t finish the race, the fact that she’s out there, trying, is enough to make me feel all chuffed. i rediscovered this entry. never would i have pictured that little skinnyskinnythang as someone who likes to run. in fact, back then, she was so tiny, her pants fell down. i couldn’t picture her as someone who would even be remotely athletic, she was so sickly for awhile.

but she is. not an olympian, you know, but she’s one who likes to flip on the bars and run her little heart out.

and i remember a little baby boy who couldn’t get himself to sleep. i would cry myself to sleep, remembering how angry his little face was at the time. why couldn’t i get him to sleep? why couldn’t i make it better? now, he hits a point where he puts his arm around my neck, kisses me, and tells me that he’s ready to go to sleep: “can you please leave now, mommy?”

i have to remember whenever we are challenged that things usually do get better. i have a way of making myself crazy with worry over every little picayune thing.

reading is fundamental: books for tweens and preschoolers

Posted on November 14, 2007 by wrekehavoc

fear not: i’m in a happy reading state of mind now.

why, you ask? for starters, i’m currently gripped by an apoplectic fear that some toy i might purchase for a birthday or a holiday will end up getting sent back on a slow boat to china. worse still, it might poison a kid. so pick a book. even if it’s a baby book and the kid does chew on it, it hopefully won’t be laden with lead.

there are some who think that some of the books i’d choose poison a kid. i mean, some of these authors, like my fave judy blume, end up on banned books lists year after year. they deal with topics like sex, or drugs, or rock and roll. or maybe a combo of all three. and some parents are so damned threatened by this idea.

now i am not a model parent. BC will be quick to tell you that i curse; i’m a major boohoo; i’m unfair from time to time; and i don’t let her live on reese’s peanut butter cups. but i like to delude myself believe that i have a pretty good relationship with my kids. we talk about lots of things. hell, they bring up stuff waaaay before i’m ready. and i try to answer them as honestly as i can — although believe me, sometimes, the answer is pretty short since they can’t handle the whole truth at times.

and when we read books together, we talk about them. if the characters are freaked out because they don’t fill up a bra yet, that’s fodder. if the characters are frightened by witches, we go there, too. i suspect a day will come when the kids will be smarter than i am, and they’ll start asking questions about nuclear particles and neurotransmitters. i’ll be the one, then, who gets to ask the questions.

but in the meantime, i get to be the smarty. i’m the mommy; that’s why.

so for a week, i’m going to share some of my favorite tween girl books, books that BC and i have enjoyed, sometimes multiple times. i’ll then magically pick a book or two that bridges the gap and that can be enjoyed by a tween girl AND a preschool boy (for those nights when i’m solo parenting and have to kill two birds with one stone. so to speak.) and then, onto preschool goodness. i’ll try to pick some faves as well as some slightly off-beat works.

but know that these are all kid-tested and mom-approved… of course, if you’re the type of mom who has perfect hair, has perfect kids, and is perfectly uncomfortable with anything remotely controversial, then these may not be perfect for you. if, however, you’ve an open mind, well, then. pull up a chair 🙂

read on, macduff.

kids books i loathe: the giving tree

Posted on November 13, 2007 by wrekehavoc

kids books i loathe week is completed with a classic that everybody seems to love. everyone except for me, that is. in fact, i would have to say this is the book that sends me over the biggest cliff. i would never, ever advocate banning it. but jeez oh man, i hate this book with a passion.

i know, i know. the giving tree is a tender story that talks about loyalty and devotion. silverstein keeps it open-ended so that you and your child can have a conversation about being good to one another. selflessness. that sort of thing.

but you know what? i think a little too much selflessness is foisted onto parents, particularly mothers. and we are often the readers of this book, and we’re the ones who get the message thus strewn upon ourselves. i know plenty of mothers — myself included — who would put limb and life and liberty at risk simply to ensure the happiness and well-being of their child. now, this is good. and this is not so good.

you know. put the air mask on yourselves, people, before you put it on the children.

i have seen and been the woman who whittles herself down to the point where there is nearly nothing left for my partner, my kids, my world. what good are you to everyone if you’re a shell of your former self?

and that’s why i get so effing mad at this book. it sanctifies the effing tree. what an amazing, giving tree. it gives and gives until it can barely give anymore. and of course, no one appreciates it until its too late.

fuck that.

appreciate me now, while i am here to hear it. enjoy me now, while i can still join you in your laughter. don’t wait til i’m dead. don’t make me a martyr.

and pick a different book out for me to read to my kids for that matter.

The Giving Tree

bruce springsteen and the e street band, 11/11

Posted on November 12, 2007 by wrekehavoc

we interrupt the regularly scheduled theme to share impressions about our ~~pilgrimage~~ ~~genuflection~~ concert experience with the Boss last night. for those of you who don’t know me well, know that i heart bruce springsteen; BS grew up down the street from the Boss; and that i’ve seen him a bajillion times (for example, this one.) and though we consider ourselves big fans, we are mere dilettantes compared to one of BS’s sisters, who i’ll fondly call M. M and her significant other see Bruce several times on each tour. they’ve travelled to different cities to see him. they’ve bumped into him. she’s active on a few bruce groups; in short, she knows her shit.

so when girlfriend called me at 6-something friday night and said: “a ticket drop is happening NOW,” i knew immediately to hang up the phone and grab ticketmaster. we already had tickets up with G-d for the monday night show, but what the hell — i figured i’d tempt fate. and i after several tries, i snagged two more tickets for sunday night’s show. amazingly, M snagged two — in the row right behind us. (somehow M and her beloved brother, BS, have a very strange bruce karma. one time, at a VH1 online charity auction, they tangled, anonymously over front-row seats and backstage passes. in a moment of brilliance, BS called his sister up, asked her if she was the anonymously-named chick tangling with him, and told her to knock it off. we laugh, but that chick cost us an extra grand or two, lol 🙂

ah well. off we went. i was sleepy, so i drank a can of Coke Zero before my friend, who happened to be kind enough to sit with our kids, arrived. did i ever mention that i’m really not supposed to drink caffeine because it makes me nuts? no? well, su-prise, su-prise, su-prise! i think that BS and my friend were ready to swat my nose with a newspaper, as i was probably acting like a child desperate for ritalin. are you sure you know how to turn the oven off? are you sure willcall will have my tickets? are you sure… are you sure… are you sure??? when we got in to the verizon center, BS got me a beer in the hopes that i would mellow out.

great move.

this is around the time we meet up with my SIL, M, and her significant other. i’m sure i made a fabulous impression on her friend, who i just met for the first time. fortunately, M is family, so hopefully she’ll forgive me (M has actually known me longer than even BS has. in a weird stroke of co-in-kee-dink, we were in the same highschool group years ago in NJ Girls State — our last names are close in the alphabet. yep, when i went to BS’s house for the first time to meet the family, she and i kept looking at each other with don’t i know you from somewhere? faces.)

if you’re familiar with bugs bunny, recall the scene where he inhales ether and is being chased by a scientist, who, also etherized, calls out: “commmmmme baaaaaackkkkk heeeeeeeere you raaaaaaaaaaa-bit!” yep. it’s official. i’m too old for anything that might alter my natural state of being. even if it’s legal.

all this to say that i am probably an unreliable narrator (with apologies to cynematic’s pillowbook. her unreliable narrator is far cuter than i am, i bet.)

highlights for me: she’s the one, kitty’s back, gypsy biker, growin’ up. reason to believe was amazing — i love when bruce plays around with his own material and experiments with it, and this is a successful experiment. why the hell he played dancing in the dark is beyond me (though BS did a lovely imitation of jon stewart during it.) i am eternally grateful that we didn’t have to listen to yoko mcspringsteen sing any of her solo material; i am thrilled that they have a happy marriage and a wonderful life together, but her voice grates on my ears. some of the new material is really great, but i was sad that there wasn’t much from the river, probably my favorite bruce LP.

and i still maintain that the rising will one day be turned into a commercial: come on up for Verizon. the Verizon Center was flashing VERIZON to that song; i’m quite sure they’ve tried selling that one to bruce.

bruce played for about two and one-half hours. i know, i know — the dude’s pushing 60. and he’s incredibly energetic. but i still wish for the days when he would go for four hours or more. you can’t go home again. i miss his long sermons. i miss the spontaneity. it’s all so programmed now. yes, it’s fun, but somehow, there’s a little sparkle that isn’t there much anymore.

anyway, about those other tickets we had. we’re not going tonight. i’m too old and tired. besides, i knew parents of BC’s friend were jonesing for tix, so i figured we didn’t need two nights in a row of bruce. and sharing the tix made me feel like my karma points went up.

besides. i gotta wait for my hearing to come back.

set list after the jump.

Continue reading “bruce springsteen and the e street band, 11/11”

kids books i loathe: Mr. Rogers New Baby

Posted on November 12, 2007 by wrekehavoc

ok, ok. i know i am about to go after a man who is not only still dead but is also still very beloved by a huge segment of the american population. we love the sweater, we love the parodies, we love the gentle ways of fred rogers.

i do, too, generally speaking (though i always hated the puppets and never understood how they fit into the “real” world of mr. rogers. ever.) and that’s why i felt like such a bad person for loathing this book.

but when i was expecting jools, i read several “new baby” books to BC to help her prepare for for her new baby brother. this is the only one that truly freaked her out in a way i could have never expected. see, fred talks honestly in the book about the feelings a new baby can bring out in a sibling. and one of those feelings is that you might feel like you want to hurt the baby.

well.

BC was freaked out FOR MONTHS. mama, she wailed, i don’t want to hit the baby! i’m afraid i will hit the baby!!!!

when you’re pregnant, you really don’t need that on top of everything else. i’m more in favor of talking about feelings during the actual moment. sure, talk about what it’s like to be a new sibling. but don’t put ideas into my kid’s head that weren’t there to start, fred. you just created one hell of a nervous child. a real freaking help that book was. nope. there are a bajillion new baby books out there, everything from the berenstain bears to the sears’.

when it comes to new babies, stay the hell out of mr. roger’s neighborhood.

Mr. Roger’s New Baby

kids books i loathe: love you forever by robert munsch

Posted on November 11, 2007 by wrekehavoc

a caveat here: BS found canadian author robert munsch’s website and downloaded a bazillion stories from it for a recent car trip. some of them are downright hilarious. the kids continue to quote from one in particular, especially since it contains the name of one of their beloved cousins: mac-ken-zie….do…YOU…have to go PEE? (this is what passes for art around here somedays.)

that being said, it’s a good thing i didn’t realize that they were written by the same guy who wrote love you forever or else i possibly would have nixed the project from the start. (shows you how exceptionally open-minded i am sometimes, huh.) but this book, in my book, is a major stinker. we’re talking skunker-times-1000.

i remember reading a review of this once from a self-righteous man who reckoned that if you didn’t like this book, you must never have experienced a selfless mother’s love. (sort of like those people who say that if you criticize our foreign policy, you must not be a patriot.) balderdash to that. my momma loves me, she loves me. and still, i can’t stand this one. for starters, i can’t get through this thing without crying buckets of tears, much to BC’s amusement.

if my tears were all that stood between me and this book, then i would be ok with that. but there is something about this book that is just so exceptionally creepy once you’re past the whole baby-child phase. i know all about allegory; but still, the idea of the elderly mom creeping up into the grown man’s house just made me think of one too many thriller movies. attack of the senior? throw momma from the window? my mother the breaking and entering chick? i dunno. it’s all just too freaky for me.

and then, the cycle continues with a new baby.

::cue twilight zone music::

Love You Forever

kids books i loathe: the eloise series by kay thompson

Posted on November 10, 2007 by wrekehavoc

i may surprise a few people with this next pick, a beloved 50+ year old chestnut. and i will say that i love the illustrations for this one. but i find our friend eloise incredibly irksome.

see, where zillions of people see spunky girl, i see spoiled brat. where zillions of people see cheeky young lady pulling pranks, i see girl who really is lacking proper supervision and guidance. where people see convenient plot device in absentee parents, i see little lady who lacks consideration for anyone else’s needs but her own — and a solid reason to call the division of youth and family services. pronto.

i really do not see anything uplifting about eloise. truly. i wish i did. like i said, i adore the illustrations, an ancestor to one of my favorite children’s books, olivia. i love a subversive heroine as much as the next girl — some of my faves include the aforementioned pig, clarice bean, junie b. jones, and beverly cleary’s ramona — some of whom i’ll discuss in my part of the month on books i love for kids. but i don’t see eloise as subversive. i see her as a sad little brat, what i imagine paris hilton would have been like if she had been abandoned in the plaza hotel with nothing but a know-nothing nanny. and i simply cannot enjoy her tales because of it.

BS hated this book so much that he banned it from the house. i’ve softened that a bit, as i don’t believe in banning books. EVER. so i told BC she is welcome to get the eloise books out of the library. but she must read them herself. i can’t wait to see her try.

Eloise

kids books i loathe: The Holes in Your Nose (My Body Science Series) by Genichiro Yagyu

Posted on November 9, 2007 by wrekehavoc

anyone who has kids knows that they all hit phases where they’re fascinated with their bodies. no, not the way high society women are fascinated (and repelled) and decide to undergo the knife; i mean fascinated by farts, snot, poop, bellybuttons, and anything else that might smell or be gross.

to that end, some clever japanese authors created the my body science series. some of the books, like Everybody Poops, translate ok and are funny to little kids (although frankly, they’re dull for grownups.) some of them, though, like The Holes in Your Nose, are simply gross and awful. i like talking about body fluids like the next person ( i threatened as much in my initial post on NaBloPoMo weeks ago), but reading through this book is about as much fun as eating your own boogers. which someone i know does. which is why i got this book in the first place. (i won’t name names, but he’s the youngest person in this house.)

i mean, who the hell cares if you can’t smell your own farts when your nose is stuffed (as this book shares, along with booger-eating gorillas and plenty of bloody noses)???

nope. even i, a grossologist (read: mom) can hardly stand this one.

in short, it blows.

The Holes in Your Nose