Beanie on Suspense
"Mommy, I hate it when they end the chapter with a hangcliff!"
"Mommy, I hate it when they end the chapter with a hangcliff!"
The kids and I just got back from another little road trip, this time to Northern Virginia to spend a night with Elizabeth‘s clan. While we were there we got to sneak in a visit with Amalah and her so-cute-I-think-I-need-to-keep-him baby Noah. I got home to find super-nice (WAY too nice!)* posts about both visits, and it was funny to read them because all the way home yesterday I was composing my own post in my head.
*(Example of way-too-niceness: Amy kindly omitted to mention that when we saw the small piece of poop lying on the floor of Barnes & Noble, I was terrified that it had come out of Wonderboy’s diaper. He was running up and down the aisles, and since a little trip-packing snafu had resulted in his having to wear one of Rilla’s diapers, it was not beyond the bounds of possibility that there might have been, um, a containment problem. But I chased him down and (oh so glamorously) sniffed his bottom and WHEW, there was only the sweet plastic aroma of Huggie.)
(Of course, when I recounted this story to Scott later that night, he said, "Well sure, all the poop had fallen out." Thanks for the reassurance, honey. But I swear it WAS NOT OUR SON’S POOP. There was no evidence of fallout in the diaper, if you know what I mean.)
Anyway. I loved meeting Amy, who is smart and funny and down-to-earth and tolerant of small children wading in public fountains. Noah is completely delicious, so much so that Beanie almost killed him with love. I had to threaten her with NO ICE CREAM if she didn’t stop squeezing the poor little guy, and for a minute there she was actually torn. Baby? or Ben & Jerry’s?—really quite a tough choice.
It was awfully sweet of Amy to drive out to Virginia for the rendezvous. Beth the Playgroup Dropout was supposed to meet us too, but I fear it seemed too much like a playgroup and she dropped out. No, no, I’m kidding. Actually her poor little Mia had a fever the night before and Beth had to beg off, which was a bummer because I was really looking forward to meeting them both. I hope Mia’s better now, Beth?
After the Ben & Jerry’s/Barnes & Noble gathering (pretty much my only criterion for choosing a meeting place was that it have an ampersand in the name), we hopped back on Route Sixty-Slow, as it will forevermore be known by my children, to head for Elizabeth’s house. The whole way there I was thinking about how much the internet has brought to our lives. Elizabeth herself was an internet friend first, many years ago. Almost a decade, I think. I first met her through the Catholic Charlotte Mason yahoogroup that she and Michele Quigley founded. We quickly moved from e-list acquaintances to email friends to telephone friends to the kind of close friends you pack your five kids in the car and drive hours to go see.
(Perhaps even more to the point: the kind of friend who COOKS FOR YOU, really incredibly delicious meals, even though she is mere weeks away from giving birth to her eighth baby, and who, when you ask what you can do to help, airily waves you into a big comfy armchair and says, "Just keep me company." I, on the other hand, am the kind of friend who, when you visit me, says "Let’s order a pizza.")
It’s funny how well you can get to know someone online. Sure, you have to be cautious about revealing too much to potentially creepy strangers. Internet friendships take time and discernment; you don’t necessarily click with someone as immediately as you might if you met her at, say, a neighborhood bakery where you bonded over scones and nursing toddlers, just to throw out a random example. But over the years, online friends can become every bit as real as your "real-life" ones.
This is what I was thinking about on the trip home yesterday. About Elizabeth, and how her book came along to invigorate and inspire me at just the right time. About Karen, who emerged from a sea of voices on CCM to become someone whose name in my inbox means a lift for my whole day. About so many other CCM and 4Real friends, far too many to name, whose children are as real and dear to me as members of the family. There’s the CCM friend who heard I was moving to Southern California and sent me a book about fun things to do there, just because she is nice. Or the amazing 4Real friend who leapt into action and found places for Scott to stay during his first couple of months out there, while we’re waiting for this house to sell. I mean, that’s pretty huge. These people are letting a total stranger into their homes, feeding him pizza, offering up their washing machines. Washing machines! These are large families we are talking about—washer time can be as precious as bathroom time, believe me.
And really that’s just the beginning. There’s a tree in my yard that’s a baby gift for Wonderboy from a group of longtime AOL friends. (How I hate to leave this tree, a beautiful river birch.) We’ve all known each other for eleven+ years, since the days we wandered onto the "Baby’s Here, Now What?" message board on AOL when we were all pregnant. I’ve known them as long as I’ve known Jane. Eventually we ditched the message boards in favor of a private list, which we dubbed Technologically Advanced Mommies because, you know, we were all such techno-gurus with our fancy 14.4 modems on dialup. I drifted away for a short while after a big list blowup, but when Jane got sick in 1997, the other TAMs were right there with care packages and hospital visits, arms and ears wide open.
Rilla is upstairs right now sleeping on a blanket handmade by one of these friends, Holly, whose trip to meet her recently adopted son I pointed you toward not long ago. My house is full of gifts like this: the box of paints from Jacki, the handknit baby cap and booties from Sue; the tattered, cherished copy of More More More Said the Baby that Jenny sent when Rose was born. But even more precious to me are the relationships we have built: the journeying together through little trials and big ones, sharing the funny moments, the hilarious ones, the I’m-sure-it’ll-be- funny-someday ones and the really-not-funny-at-all ones. We’ve traveled some rough roads together; nearly everyone in the group has weathered some kind of major life crisis with the help of all the others. I can’t imagine life without them.
This morning when I woke up—with this post already percolating in my head—there was an IM on my screen that had come in late last night, after I went to bed. It was from one of the moms who had been part of the TAMs group ten years ago but we’d lost contact with her after that. She still had my name on her AIM buddy list; I hadn’t used AIM in a million years but now that Scott’s on the opposite coast we’re IMing each other like mad. Sarah saw my name pop up and sent me a note. I’ve thought of her often and was actually talking to some of the other TAMs not long ago about trying to track her down. And now here she is, back on my screen. Which you have to know, means in my heart. That sounds hopelessly sappy; I keep deleting it and then saying what the heck. I mean it.
My whole educational philosophy is about making connections, building relationships. I guess that’s my internet philosophy too. The internet is about connections and intersections. It’s about seeing Amy’s Noah and feeling like I knew him already because I’ve applauded so many of his milestones; it’s about looking eagerly each day for a new Elias or Ramona story. (I really wish my sisters and Scott’s siblings had blogs so I could read daily niece and nephew stories too. Ahem.) It’s about my friend Joann bringing a bunch of her kids to stay the night and all of us hugging like it was a family reunion, when really it was our first time seeing each other in person. It’s about a whole new crop of west coast friends already rolling out the welcome mat for us, and friends here saying "At least I can keep up with you through the blog." It’s about holding my breath when the Bookworm went into labor, and counting down the days until Elizabeth’s newest daughter arrives. Sitting in her beautiful learning room with a passel of kids playing games on the floor, surrounded by shelves full of all the same books I love best, I had to laugh at how little I could have anticipated the treasures that pokey old 14.4 dial-up connection had in store for me.
Elizabeth’s boys saying a tender farewell.
The latest issue of the online chldren’s literature journal, The Edge of the Forest, is up. Editor Kelly Herold was kind enough to grab me for an interview for the "Blogging Writers" feature. She asked great questions about how blogging dovetails with my novel writing. There is also an interview with Newbery winner Linda Sue Park, as well as lots of book reviews. Enjoy!
Comments are off
So how horrified was I to look at my blog on Elizabeth‘s computer yesterday and see that all the text was showing up centered? Answer: VERY. That is NOT how it looked in MY browser. Or on Alice‘s for that matter.
I scoured my code and found a duplicate center tag that only had one corresponding end tag. Ugh. Anyway, if my entries were showing up centered on YOUR screen and you were wondering whether I thought I was being arty or something, nope, I’m definitely a fan of the old left justify. I don’t think I want to know how many of you were seeing the screwed-up version. Maybe it was just AOL’s browser that didn’t like my code? I hope?
But really, who can fret overmuch about blog woes when there is such delightful company and conversation all around? Yesterday, the kids and I zipped up to Northern Virginia for an overnight with Elizabeth and her gang. It was far too short a visit. Wonderboy’s jaw was on the floor the whole time: all those boys! I hardly saw Jane the whole time; she disappeared with Mary Beth the moment we arrived. Elizabeth is weeks away from giving birth to her eighth baby, but she served up feast after feast like I was royalty. There was even chocolate on my pillow. Is that a good friend, or what?
Exactly two months ago, you shared our joy over this: a two-and-a-half year old boy who was finally able to stand up by himself.
Today we are celebrating THIS. That’s a long way to come in a pretty short time. Climbing! The furniture! It’s hard to believe he was the baby who had to wear splints on his legs to straighten them out.
Hundreds of hours of physical therapy? Priceless.
My education was the liberty I had to read indiscriminately and all the time, with my eyes hanging out.
—Dylan Thomas
This information is so important I’m cross-posting it from Bonny Glen:
An abundance of books is something I take for granted. Everything I write here is shaped by my family’s immersion in literature. "Living the living-books lifestyle," I call it, and it’s true: our days, our experiences, our understanding, everything we do is influenced and in many ways made possible by Really Good Books. I put the best literature in my children’s paths, and they read and learn; it really is as simple as that.
Not all children are so fortunate. I may have to choose between books and nice furniture, but for some families there’s no choice at all. Books or food? That one’s a no-brainer. And schools don’t always have the budget to fill the void.
My good friends Julianna Baggott (aka N. E. Bode) and David Scott are keenly aware of this void in Florida, where they live and write with their three children. Here’s what they are doing to fill the void. Julianna writes:
I’ve recently started a new nonprofit, Kids in Need–Books in Deed, that brings free books and free
author visits to Kids in Need in the state of Florida. In addition to
private funding, schools across the country that hope to inspire generosity and service in their students can sign up to sponsor a Write-A-Thon and the money raised will bring free books and authors to kids who need them most. In this way, one child’s imagination fuels another’s education.
We can help. Schools and homeschooling families or groups can participate in Write-a-Thons to collect money per page for stories they write. Direct donations are also welcome.
KIDS IN NEED—BOOKS IN DEED IS COMMITTED TO:
1. Promoting reading and writing—education and the imagination.
When children create a character, they are learning empathy. When they are plotting a story, they are learning strategic thought. When they are inventing what might happen next, they are developing their imaginations. When they are putting one word in front of
the next, they are understanding, deeply, their language and finding their own voice. Reading and writing expand our worlds.
2. Getting free books into the homes of underprivileged kids. Having books in the home is a primary indicator of literacy. (For some of these students, this will
be the first book they’ve ever owned. The fact that it is inscribed to them and signed by the author makes it all the more personal and valued.)
3. Bringing living and breathing
authors to kids. Books are not born from bookshelves. Writers use words to invent worlds. We want to create that magical moment when the writer brings the book to life, breaking down the wall between author and reader. Having authors talk to students about their childhoods, their creative processes, their imaginations,
allows students to understand that they, too, have a voice and
that there is value and power in writing down their own stories.
4. Promoting community service.
Students participating in the Write-A-Thon know that their imaginative efforts are going to a good cause. The web site spotlights the
Kids in Need that the books and authors are going to. With statistics alongside pictures alongside personal anecdotes, we hope that Write-A-Thon
students can get a real sense of the kids they’re helping and a real sense of purpose. We hope that kids receiving free
books and author visits are inspired in this process by a greater
sense of community that reaches beyond the boundaries of their neighborhoods and schoolyards. They, too, will have the opportunity
to be generous by using their imaginative power writing stories
to ensure author visits for the future students of their school
and to build up their school library.
Participating authors include Lisa McCourt, David Kirby, Sherry North, Mary Beth Lundgren, Adrian Fogelin, Paul Shepherd, Gaby Triana, and Joyce Sweeney.
Spread the word! If your kids are in school, share the Write-a-Thon information with their teachers. If you are homeschoolers, consider organizing a Write-a-Thon among your friends or support groups. Let’s get some good books into the hands of kids who need them.
And if you decide to participate, please do let me know. I’ll want to shout your names from the blogtops!
Comments are off
An abundance of books is something I take for granted. Everything I write here and at The Lilting House is shaped by my family’s immersion in literature. "Living the living-books lifestyle," I call it, and it’s true: our days, our experiences, our understanding, everything we do is influenced and in many ways made possible by Really Good Books. I put the best literature in my children’s paths, and they read and learn; it really is as simple as that.
Not all children are so fortunate. I may have to choose between books and nice furniture, but for some families there’s no choice at all. Books or food? That one’s a no-brainer. And schools don’t always have the budget to fill the void.
My good friends Julianna Baggott (aka N. E. Bode) and David Scott are keenly aware of this void in Florida, where they live and write with their three children. Here’s what they are doing to fill the void. Julianna writes:
I’ve recently started a new nonprofit, Kids in Need–Books in Deed, that brings free books and free
author visits to Kids in Need in the state of Florida. In addition to
private funding, schools across the country that hope to inspire generosity and service in their students can sign up to sponsor a Write-A-Thon and the money raised will bring free books and authors to kids who need them most. In this way, one child’s imagination fuels another’s education.
We can help. Schools and homeschooling families or groups can participate in Write-a-Thons to collect money per page for stories they write. Direct donations are also welcome.
KIDS IN NEED—BOOKS IN DEED IS COMMITTED TO:
1. Promoting reading and writing—education and the imagination.
When children create a character, they are learning empathy. When they are plotting a story, they are learning strategic thought. When they are inventing what might happen next, they are developing their imaginations. When they are putting one word in front of
the next, they are understanding, deeply, their language and finding their own voice. Reading and writing expand our worlds.
2. Getting free books into the homes of underprivileged kids. Having books in the home is a primary indicator of literacy. (For some of these students, this will
be the first book they’ve ever owned. The fact that it is inscribed to them and signed by the author makes it all the more personal and valued.)
3. Bringing living and breathing
authors to kids. Books are not born from bookshelves. Writers use words to invent worlds. We want to create that magical moment when the writer brings the book to life, breaking down the wall between author and reader. Having authors talk to students about their childhoods, their creative processes, their imaginations,
allows students to understand that they, too, have a voice and
that there is value and power in writing down their own stories.
4. Promoting community service.
Students participating in the Write-A-Thon know that their imaginative efforts are going to a good cause. The web site spotlights the
Kids in Need that the books and authors are going to. With statistics alongside pictures alongside personal anecdotes, we hope that Write-A-Thon
students can get a real sense of the kids they’re helping and a real sense of purpose. We hope that kids receiving free
books and author visits are inspired in this process by a greater
sense of community that reaches beyond the boundaries of their neighborhoods and schoolyards. They, too, will have the opportunity
to be generous by using their imaginative power writing stories
to ensure author visits for the future students of their school
and to build up their school library.
Participating authors include Lisa McCourt, David Kirby, Sherry North, Mary Beth Lundgren, Adrian Fogelin, Paul Shepherd, Gaby Triana, and Joyce Sweeney.
So Bonny Glen readers, let’s spread the word. If your kids are in school, share the Write-a-Thon information with their teachers. If you are homeschoolers, consider organizing a Write-a-Thon among your friends or support groups. Let’s get some good books into the hands of kids who need them.
And if you decide to participate, please do let me know. I’ll want to shout your names from the blogtops!
Last week at the neighborhood pool, I was shocked to learn that most of the kids were starting school again on Monday. As in yesterday. It seems so early this year, but the moms said it’s the same week school started last year—a week earlier than years past, they thought. The school year has inched its way longer because there are more teacher workdays built into the schedule.
Yesterday morning, everyone in my house slept late because we’d had a big day on Sunday. Also I think we were all sort of hiding from Monday, aka The Day Daddy Goes Away Again. I was the first one up, and as I came down the stairs at 7:30, I saw Rose’s best buddy from across the street heading for the bus stop with his mom. He’ll be in second grade this year; Rose is, according to the state of Virginia, in third.
We don’t pay much attention to grades except as a frame of reference for other kids. Jane would be in sixth grade if she were in school. Sixth grade! That’s middle school! Over the summer I listened to other moms, my friends, worry about the middle school transition without really registering that I’d be in the same boat if we had traveled another, um, river. We’re in a different kind of transition here. Yesterday, while their neighborhood friends were getting acclimated to new teachers, new classmates, new school clothes, my kids were:
1) playing games in a bank lobby while Scott and I tried unsuccessfully to get me added to his new bank account (because even though it’s a national bank with the word America in its NAME, for Pete’s sake, with glossy brochures about how YOU CAN DO YOUR BANKING ONLINE! and WE ARE SO TECHNOLOGICALLY ADVANCED, YOU WILL THINK YOU ARE A JETSON!—well, that’s the gist, anyway—it turns out I have to actually BE in California to be added to the account he opened at a California branch, because the East Coast and West Coast computers don’t speak each other’s languages and all they can do is bat their fiber-optic eyelashes at each other and smile blank yet amiable smiles);
2) driving to the airport and discussing the dreaded monkey-face disease in sheep, caused by ewes’ consumption of Western false hellebore while pregnant (where "discussion" = "Jane telling us all about it, and the rest of us saying ‘Seriously? Where did you hear about this?’ ");
3) sobbing in the airport;
4) sobbing half the way home, until
5) someone suggested the Snoopy CD, and we discovered that showtunes may not be able to heal a broken heart, but they can drown it out for a while.
As for today, here’s what Beanie has planned. (She just showed me the schedule she filled out in an out-of-date planner.)
Sleeping (already checked off)
Read
Read
Plays
Lean*
Lean
Sleeps
*(Me: "Lean?" Beanie, laughing like I’m adorably silly: "No, it says LEARN!")
Which I guess means I don’t have to cook today. Excellent. We will just read, play, and lean.