Transition
Today was Therapist L's last day. She has been working with Leelo since August 2003, one month after I started this blog. I am in deep deep denial. So, instead of contemplations or ruminations, you get More Cambodia. Enjoy.
2.28.2008
The Liar's Diary
A MotherTalk Review
I intentionally do not read others' reviews before writing my own, but I doubt my experience with The Liar's Diary is unique: there is bloody little of this book I can talk about without revealing, or at least alluding to, spoilers. This is not a bad thing. It means Patry Francis's novel is so carefully put together, so painstakingly plotted, that it will satisfy those purists for whom reading means active sleuthing. Or passive readers like me who just like to be entertained. Or perhaps even those who wish Sue Grafton would get serious and write a murder mystery contemplating suburban women's relationships.
Jeanne Cross, a superficially perfect but dull mother and wife, forms an intense, unlikely friendship with Ali Mather, the beautiful, vibrant, scandalous high school music teacher. Despite her initial misgivings over Ali's many and open extra-marital affairs -- and her husband's disapproval -- Jeanne soon succumbs to Ali's magnetic personality. Wine-soaked book chats and walks by the lake ensue. Doesn't it sound dreamy? Don't we all wish that a really interesting person would suddenly take a special interest in us, and write about us in a diary like Ali's?
Unfortunately, the dream evaporates into stark, harsh reality when Ali is murdered in her own home, her diary goes missing, and the main suspect turns out to be Jeanne's teenage son, Jamie. After this point, nasty revelations begin to erupt, and -- trite but true -- I doubt anyone will be able to put the book down until the mystery is cleared. You've been warned.
I wish I could write more about the plot, but, again, I cannot. Though I can let you know how much I enjoyed Ali's consistent portrayal as gorgeous and luminous and in her late 40's, not despite her age. I also appreciated how much empathy Ms. Francis demonstrated towards her characters, including Jamie with his teenage bravado and bewilderment, and Ali's beleaguered but faithful husband George.
If you enjoy a good gossip purely because you crave insights into others' minds, hearts, and actions, you will enjoy the twists, turns, people, and surprises in The Liar's Diary.
I intentionally do not read others' reviews before writing my own, but I doubt my experience with The Liar's Diary is unique: there is bloody little of this book I can talk about without revealing, or at least alluding to, spoilers. This is not a bad thing. It means Patry Francis's novel is so carefully put together, so painstakingly plotted, that it will satisfy those purists for whom reading means active sleuthing. Or passive readers like me who just like to be entertained. Or perhaps even those who wish Sue Grafton would get serious and write a murder mystery contemplating suburban women's relationships.
Jeanne Cross, a superficially perfect but dull mother and wife, forms an intense, unlikely friendship with Ali Mather, the beautiful, vibrant, scandalous high school music teacher. Despite her initial misgivings over Ali's many and open extra-marital affairs -- and her husband's disapproval -- Jeanne soon succumbs to Ali's magnetic personality. Wine-soaked book chats and walks by the lake ensue. Doesn't it sound dreamy? Don't we all wish that a really interesting person would suddenly take a special interest in us, and write about us in a diary like Ali's?
Unfortunately, the dream evaporates into stark, harsh reality when Ali is murdered in her own home, her diary goes missing, and the main suspect turns out to be Jeanne's teenage son, Jamie. After this point, nasty revelations begin to erupt, and -- trite but true -- I doubt anyone will be able to put the book down until the mystery is cleared. You've been warned.
I wish I could write more about the plot, but, again, I cannot. Though I can let you know how much I enjoyed Ali's consistent portrayal as gorgeous and luminous and in her late 40's, not despite her age. I also appreciated how much empathy Ms. Francis demonstrated towards her characters, including Jamie with his teenage bravado and bewilderment, and Ali's beleaguered but faithful husband George.
If you enjoy a good gossip purely because you crave insights into others' minds, hearts, and actions, you will enjoy the twists, turns, people, and surprises in The Liar's Diary.
Technorati Tags: MotherTalk, Patry Francis, The Liar's Diary
2.27.2008
Don't Be Ignorant
Don't Be Ignorant
Iz's favorite book for several months has been The Book of General Ignorance, by John Lloyd and John Mitchinson. In deference to The Simpsons*, I tend to call it "The Big Book of Ignorance."
Giving Iz this book is like giving one of my brothers the keys to a beer store. Good distraction, then potential total social disaster. Iz is already a know-it-all stickler with no qualms about correcting strangers on the street. Let's just hope most people won't mind being informed that America was named after Welshman Richard Ameryk rather than Amerigo Vespucci. And it should make her teen years interesting, telling the other sci-fi geeks that the asteroid chase in The Empire Strikes Back makes no sense because asteroids usually have about 1.25 million miles between them, and her rocker buddies that the number of the Beast is actually 616, not 666.
Regardless, this book deserves a place near every toilet in the land.
---
*Mali recently interrupted lunch to tell me, Ep, and Jo a rather complicated story. After a beat or two, we realized she was retelling us the King Homer segment from Treehouse of Horror III. Go third child!
Iz's favorite book for several months has been The Book of General Ignorance, by John Lloyd and John Mitchinson. In deference to The Simpsons*, I tend to call it "The Big Book of Ignorance."
Giving Iz this book is like giving one of my brothers the keys to a beer store. Good distraction, then potential total social disaster. Iz is already a know-it-all stickler with no qualms about correcting strangers on the street. Let's just hope most people won't mind being informed that America was named after Welshman Richard Ameryk rather than Amerigo Vespucci. And it should make her teen years interesting, telling the other sci-fi geeks that the asteroid chase in The Empire Strikes Back makes no sense because asteroids usually have about 1.25 million miles between them, and her rocker buddies that the number of the Beast is actually 616, not 666.
Regardless, this book deserves a place near every toilet in the land.
---
*Mali recently interrupted lunch to tell me, Ep, and Jo a rather complicated story. After a beat or two, we realized she was retelling us the King Homer segment from Treehouse of Horror III. Go third child!
2.25.2008
Imitation of Mali
Imitation of Mali
Seven-year-old Leelo is really starting to imitate his three-year-old sister. I find this amusing.
When offering them lunch yesterday, I said, "Who wants PB&J sandwiches?"
Mali, instantly: "I do!"
Leelo, after two more beats: "I do!" (He has never said that before, in his life.)
Tonight while doing the evening sit-both-younger-kids-on-their-toilets-and-hope-to-God-one-of-them-at-least-produces laptop online video routine (oh, bless you, videos.sesamestreet.org), I asked them what they wanted to watch:
Leelo: "Want to watch Elmo!"
Mali: "I want to watch Cookie Monster"
Leelo: "Want to watch Cookie Monster!"
This is more than mere echolalia. He is actively observing his little sister to see what he should say in given situations. Iz has always talked far too much for him to use her as his model.
Seven-year-old Leelo is really starting to imitate his three-year-old sister. I find this amusing.
When offering them lunch yesterday, I said, "Who wants PB&J sandwiches?"
Mali, instantly: "I do!"
Leelo, after two more beats: "I do!" (He has never said that before, in his life.)
Tonight while doing the evening sit-both-younger-kids-on-their-toilets-and-hope-to-God-one-of-them-at-least-produces laptop online video routine (oh, bless you, videos.sesamestreet.org), I asked them what they wanted to watch:
Leelo: "Want to watch Elmo!"
Mali: "I want to watch Cookie Monster"
Leelo: "Want to watch Cookie Monster!"
This is more than mere echolalia. He is actively observing his little sister to see what he should say in given situations. Iz has always talked far too much for him to use her as his model.
Technorati Tags: autism, autism blog, autistic
2.24.2008
Kids Don't Need TV To Entertain Themselves
Kids Don't Need TV To Entertain Themselves
Not when they have each other...
Not when they have each other...
2.23.2008
Middle East Map Game
Middle East Map Game
Courtesy of Floyd. Play it just to humor me, your favorite Geographer. Please.
http://www.rethinkingschools.org/just_fun/games/mapgame.html
Courtesy of Floyd. Play it just to humor me, your favorite Geographer. Please.
http://www.rethinkingschools.org/just_fun/games/mapgame.html
2.20.2008
Modern Maturity
Modern Maturity
I have written a little piece over on Can I Sit With You? clarifying my stance on whether or not middle- and elementary-school aged children should read said blog and book.
If you think that such children shouldn't even know how to spell S-E-X, then don't even fucking bother.
I have written a little piece over on Can I Sit With You? clarifying my stance on whether or not middle- and elementary-school aged children should read said blog and book.
If you think that such children shouldn't even know how to spell S-E-X, then don't even fucking bother.
2.19.2008
Migraine?
Migraine?
Last night Leelo appeared to have had a migraine; he was screaming with pain for about ninety minutes, trying to get me to push on the left side of his head and then hitting and scratching me when I did, screaming in even more agony at lights or noise.
Ideally, this wouldn't happen on the first night of his dad's four-day conference trip, nor would it happen on a night when his baby sister decides to tantrum herself to sleep while his migraine peaks. Oh well. I only wish he would let me give him motrin or tylenol. I also wish he could tell me how he feels, rather than demonstrating his extreme discomfort through screaming, hitting, scratching, and attacking.
My poor, poor boy. I felt totally helpless.
Last night Leelo appeared to have had a migraine; he was screaming with pain for about ninety minutes, trying to get me to push on the left side of his head and then hitting and scratching me when I did, screaming in even more agony at lights or noise.
Ideally, this wouldn't happen on the first night of his dad's four-day conference trip, nor would it happen on a night when his baby sister decides to tantrum herself to sleep while his migraine peaks. Oh well. I only wish he would let me give him motrin or tylenol. I also wish he could tell me how he feels, rather than demonstrating his extreme discomfort through screaming, hitting, scratching, and attacking.
My poor, poor boy. I felt totally helpless.
Technorati Tags: autism, autism blog, autistic, migraine
Mali vs. Dental Sedation
Mali vs. Dental Sedation
Mali just spent three hours under dental sedation. Now that she's out, I am finally exhaling.
Whereas we know Mali as the cute though strong-willed child who nevertheless lets us brush her teeth thoroughly, to her dentist she is a screaming, non-compliant, rotten-toothed little monkey. (I suppose I should be grateful that the porous Rosenberg enamel my youngest has inherited did not show up in her older siblings' mouths.)
They knocked her out with an initial shot to the thigh; then they took her back for IV sedation and intubation. She had her teeth cleaned, polished, x-rayed, filled, fluoride-varnished, and sealed in one shot, while her mom sat fretting in the lobby. She was mad as hell when she woke up but otherwise seems fine.
Many thanks to Jo Spanglemonkey for coming to stay with Leelo during his lunch break. Otherwise I'm not sure how I could have made Mali's appointment happen -- Seymour is off to a conference for the next four days, and Leelo is out of school on *cough* ski week.
Mali just spent three hours under dental sedation. Now that she's out, I am finally exhaling.
Whereas we know Mali as the cute though strong-willed child who nevertheless lets us brush her teeth thoroughly, to her dentist she is a screaming, non-compliant, rotten-toothed little monkey. (I suppose I should be grateful that the porous Rosenberg enamel my youngest has inherited did not show up in her older siblings' mouths.)
They knocked her out with an initial shot to the thigh; then they took her back for IV sedation and intubation. She had her teeth cleaned, polished, x-rayed, filled, fluoride-varnished, and sealed in one shot, while her mom sat fretting in the lobby. She was mad as hell when she woke up but otherwise seems fine.
Many thanks to Jo Spanglemonkey for coming to stay with Leelo during his lunch break. Otherwise I'm not sure how I could have made Mali's appointment happen -- Seymour is off to a conference for the next four days, and Leelo is out of school on *cough* ski week.
2.13.2008
She Like Electric
She Like Electric
Bonus points if you know the reference without leaning on the Internet.
This pretty much sums up Mali's personality, don't you think, MB? You just had "lunch" with me and my youngest, because Mali's non-compliance at this morning's visit to her dentist meant that an appointment I'd set aside an hour for actually only took five minutes, which was enough time to determine that her tooth enamel is really porous and that she has a few cavities and that the dentist will never ever be able to fill them without sedating her, so I had to go drop off a pre-sedation health evaluation at Mali's pediatrician, whose office is in your town, and meant I had a bonus social time slot. There was much wonderful conversation but very little sitting still during that "lunch." Although Mali did not have an accident during a morning spent entirely in underwear and which took her through several hours' worth of errands.
She still prefers to answer to Charles the Dog, BTW.
Do you have lovely plans for Valentine's Day? The morning after I made our dinner reservations, the restaurant I'd selected was on the front page of the local paper for giving sixty people food poisoning. For some reason Seymour insisted on canceling the reservation, even though I said that the restaurant was very very very likely to have cleaned up its act and then some by the time V-day arrived. So we are doing random Italian. But I'd be happy doing random IHOP with my man, as long as the kids have been stowed elsewhere.
Bonus points if you know the reference without leaning on the Internet.
This pretty much sums up Mali's personality, don't you think, MB? You just had "lunch" with me and my youngest, because Mali's non-compliance at this morning's visit to her dentist meant that an appointment I'd set aside an hour for actually only took five minutes, which was enough time to determine that her tooth enamel is really porous and that she has a few cavities and that the dentist will never ever be able to fill them without sedating her, so I had to go drop off a pre-sedation health evaluation at Mali's pediatrician, whose office is in your town, and meant I had a bonus social time slot. There was much wonderful conversation but very little sitting still during that "lunch." Although Mali did not have an accident during a morning spent entirely in underwear and which took her through several hours' worth of errands.
She still prefers to answer to Charles the Dog, BTW.
Do you have lovely plans for Valentine's Day? The morning after I made our dinner reservations, the restaurant I'd selected was on the front page of the local paper for giving sixty people food poisoning. For some reason Seymour insisted on canceling the reservation, even though I said that the restaurant was very very very likely to have cleaned up its act and then some by the time V-day arrived. So we are doing random Italian. But I'd be happy doing random IHOP with my man, as long as the kids have been stowed elsewhere.
2.11.2008
No We McCain't
No We McCain't
Far too much going on here at Casa Rosenberg, so I continue with the external links:
(I just don't deal well with this kind of straight-faced earnestness and sincerity.)
Far too much going on here at Casa Rosenberg, so I continue with the external links:
(I just don't deal well with this kind of straight-faced earnestness and sincerity.)
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