The Five Love Languages of Children

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Okay, so I broke my “rule” and read a non-fluffy book. It didn’t put me to sleep (must be getting more sleep!), and it was worth the effort.

I tend to think I’m a pretty good parent (albeit an arrogant one!), and because of that tend to shy away from self-help books, except in certain circumstances. One of those being when my mom sends me a book saying I really ought to read it. Then I (usually) do, though usually with some skepticism. I’m really glad I read this one, by Gary Chapman and Ross Campbell, though.

The basic premise is that everyone has five “love languages”: quality time, words of affirmation, gifts, acts of service, and physical touch — but that we all prefer one (or two) languages over the others. The goal as parents is to learn to “speak” your child(ren)’s primary love language. By doing that, you ensure that they actually recognize and feel your love for them, and as a result not only behave better, but are actually more secure in their self-esteem and therefore grow up to be more secure, loving adults. Kind of sounds hokey, but I think it might work. For example, M has been having a hard time sleeping, coming out complaining of headaches, stomach aches, whatever, until we lose patience with her. After reading this book, I determined that her primary love language is physical touch, and have been giving her more hugs and kisses and just touching her more. And, sure enough, she’s been falling asleep better at nights. I think C’s primary love language is words of affirmation (either that or quality time). I’ve been trying to tell her she’s wonderful and doing a good job whenever I can. She seems to play better by herself and throw less tantrums, too.

Anyway. I’m not sure if this will work in the long run, but it’s at least a very interesting concept to think about. And, hey, more love around the house won’t hurt.

Two perfect books

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The Orange Girl, by Jostein Gaarder
Every once in a while, the Chinaberry magazine comes through with a truly wonderful read. This is one. It’s hard to tell the story — it’s a love letter, from a dead father to his son 11 years after his death; it’s a mystery; it’s a fairy tale; it’s an awakening. On top of all that, it’s really beautifully written, touching and powerful in the end. Gaarder (who is Norwegian) deals with space, time, life, eternity and is life worth it in the end. Maybe someday I’ll get a chance to recommend this one to a book group.

Ida B (and Her Plans to Maximize Fun, Avoid Disaster, and (Possibly) Save the World), by Katherine Hannigan
M brought this one home from her school library; I picked it up, read the back cover, and decided I need to read the book, if only because the character reminded me so much of M. And, while Ida B wasn’t exactly M, she was a great character. Hannigan has got fourth graders down perfectly. The story in a nutshell: Ida B’s homeschooled, because her one week of Kindergarten in a public school is horrible, until her mother gets sick with cancer. On top of being forced to go back to public school, her father has to sell off some of the family’s farmland to a developer who, horror of all horrors, cuts down some of Ida B’s tree friends. It’s a fabulous world to get lost in. From Ida B’s imagination, to her free spirit, to her expecting revenge when she is mean to a classmate, to how things resolve in the end. It’s a wonderful read.

When in Rome

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This will be short, because the baby’s a bit fussy. It’s been a long week; she hasn’t been sleeping well.

Anyway, When in Rome, by Robert J. Hutchinson (I guess the J’s important), is one of those travel/place books that I love reading every once in a while. Actually, this one’s subtitled: A Journal of Life in Rome, so I don’t know if it can actually be classified a travel book. What it is, is a wealth of knowledge about the Vatican, something I never thought I’d be interested in. But, aside from the pat little — and sometimes snide — remarks that ended each chapter, it was a fascinating book about the Vatican, and life there. Hutchinson visited the Vatican Bank, the museums, the Secret archives, found out how the money and stamps are made, delved into relics and the past popes’ sex lives. Ecclectic, but interesting.

And now, I need to do something about this bundle that’s sitting on my lap.

Decisions.

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Well, a decision, anyway.

I’ve decided that, until I’m getting more sleep on a regular basis, I’m not going to read any deep, intellectual, or highly scholarly books. I just can’t concentrate enough to get through them. The latest failure was What are People For? by Wendell Berry. I admire Berry; he has many good and important things to say. But this time, reading his essays only put me to sleep. Which I suppose is a good thing, seeing that I need all the sleep I can get. But I kind of feel guilty drifting off in the middle of an essay on, oh, technology and its evils, or the reasons I should be supporting local agriculture.

I’ll probaby get around to attempting to re-read this book sometime within the next year. When I’m getting more sleep.

Until then, only light, fluffy, soapy, entertaining books that I can stay awake through.

Annie, Between the States

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Keeping up the pace, even with a newborn, who has decided to have a constant bellyache (sometimes breastfeeding is so frustrating!)…

This Civil War youth fiction novel by L.M. Elliot had lots going for it, but somehow wasn’t as good as I’d hoped. I enjoyed the heroine — Annie Sinclair, a half-Irish Virginian fiercely loyal to Virginia and therefore the Confederacy, yet increasingly disturbed by both perceptions of Southerners, the attitutes of those around her towards blacks, and her growing love for a Union soldier. Makes for good melodrama. Except, I think, there was just too much. The novel spans almost the entire Civil War, and while she keeps it centered in Virginia, I often found myself skipping the war passages. Maybe it would have been better had the time been collapsed. That said, she did do an excellent job portraying the horrors of war, and how it touched every family in many varied ways — a brother looses an arm, her mother dies of diptheria, another brother becomes fiercely pro-Confederate and lusts after battle. She even spends time in a Federal prison. (Again, maybe it all was a bit too much…) I suppose, though, writing a novel set in the Civil War can’t be an easy thing to do, especially with a sympathetic Southern character. And, given that, Elliot’s book is a good read.

The Virgin’s Lover

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I couldn’t resist picking this one by Phillipa Gregory up, since I enjoyed The Queen’s Fool so much. I wasn’t disappointed, really, but I didn’t enjoy it as much as I had the earlier book. As far as historical fiction goes, it’s okay — it’s got lots of soap-opera style stuff, from war, to love and lust, adultry and jilted wives, and ambition… gotta love the 16th century, right? Still, it lacked a sympathetic character. Queen Elizabeth was a bit of a pushover — in love with Robert Dudley and completley at loose ends during her first two years of her reign (the time period of the book). Dudley, himself, is a bit of an arrogant prick, and not at all likeable. His wife, Amy, is — probably true to her time — weepy, boring, and garners no sympathy when she ends up dead. The only really likeable character is William Cecil, and even then, he’s not exactly endearing, being manipulative and harsh on everyone (though by the end, he’s the only one acting like an adult, and I was grateful for that). Still, it’s not a bad read — I’ve read, and finished, books I’ve liked less — it’s just that The Queen’s Fool is much better.

American Jezebel

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Although little K is sleeping well (considering she’s only a week old), 4 1/2 hours of sleep is considerably less than what I’m used to getting. So, forgive me if this doesn’t make a whole lotta sense. 🙂

I picked up this biography of Anne Hutchinson by Eve LaPlante mostly because I didn’t know anything about Anne Hutchinson, and the book itself was billed as “Anne Hutchinson: America’s founding mother” type of thing. So, I figured, let’s see what LaPlante had to say.

Well, not much. At least not much that was convincing about Hutchinson being American’s founding mother. The biography itself — which was mostly about Hutchinson’s trial and banishment from 17th century Puritan Massachusetts — was interesting. I found the whole idea of these authoritarian men confronting and banishing a woman during that time quite fascinating. Especially since LaPlante quoted extensively from the transcript of the trial.

However, the book kind of fell apart in the end. It’s not just that Hutchinson had an incredibly sudden and violent end to her life. It’s that I’m not sure you can make a case for a 17th Century Puritan woman who just happened to have had some strong opinions being the mother of modern American religious freedoms. The last two or so chapters just didn’t work, in my opinion.

What I’ve been doing

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Kristen Dorothy (all 8 pounds 15 ounces of her) was born at 4:27 a.m. on Tuesday the fourth, about 40 minutes after I checked into the hospital. I did it al natural, something I wouldn’t readily recommend to anyone. (I asked for an epidural when I got there, they told me, no, but I could have a baby…) I’ve never lost it so completely as I did while pushing this lovely girl out. Thankfully, it wasn’t my first. If it was, I may have never done this again.

Incidently, the book I ended up taking was American Jezebel, a biography of Anne Hutchinson by Eve LaPlante. I’m only half done, but I’m enjoying it. I’ll post a review when (if?) I get around to finishing it.

For now, I’m going to take a nap (though the wonderful girl slept for 5 hours last night!), since my mom’s here to play with A, and the baby’s sleeping!

Parnassus on Wheels

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First, a definition: Parnassusian (parnassus isn’t in my dictionary) — from the Greek parnasios; Parnassus, mountain in Greece sacred to Apollo and the Muses. Of or relating to poetry.

There. Now everyone’s learned something today.

This was a slim little nothing of a book, wrtitten in 1915 by Christopher Morely . But, it was totally enjoyable. I’m not sure I expected anything grand or life shattering; it wasn’t. The basic story: Helen McGill was completely content to live in the New England countryside baking bread (over 6,000 loaves, as she later calculates) and cooking meals for her brother. That is, until he decides to become “literary” and write a book. She gets increasingly put out with him and his escapades off to gather material for his books. So when Roger Mifflin stops by the farm with a wagon — the Parnassus — wanting to sell it to her brother, she up and buys it. And off starts her adventures. Which really aren’t life-shattering (though they are life-changing for her). It is amusing, though. And completely charming. I’ve been reading a lot of charming books lately, it seems. Not that there’s anything wrong with charming. It was actually quite refreshing to put down a book and think, “Now that was charming.” Maybe I wanted there to be something more — it did tie itself up quite nicely — but that’s quibbling.

Besides, I learned what a parnassus is.

Princess Academy

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Ah, there’s nothing like a good story. And this book, by Shannon Hale, is a good story. So good, in fact, that I devoured it in a few hours. Either it was really good, or I was starved for a good story. Then M picked it up, took it to her room, and emerged the next afternoon, saying (her only criticism): “It needs an Epilogue. Otherwise it’s perfect.” I’d have to agree.

It’s a simple story: the kingdom of Danland has a tradtion. On the prince’s 18th birthday, the priests of the creator god cast about for the name of the town where the prince’s bride will be. They then set up a Princess Academy, to “educate” the local girls in the way of being a princess (though, we’re told, it’s usually a formality; not so this time). The prince, at the end of the academy’s term, visits and chooses his bride. This time, the bride is supposed to be in Mt. Eskel, where Miri (a 14-year-old — my only complaint: what’s with 14 year olds getting married?) lives in a little village with her family. The profession of the village is quarrying linder, a precious stone, but Miri, because of her size (she’s overly small for her age), isn’t allowed to help. So, when the academy comes to town, Miri sees a chance to do something.

Yeah, I suppose some of it is predictable (though the prince’s choice for a bride is a surprise). Yeah, I guess it’s a tale that’s been told many times before. But Hale is such an engaging storyteller. And Miri is a worthy heroine. And, well, dang it, I liked it. A lot. If anything, it’s a great girl book. And I like those.