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2024 Bookish Books Reading Challenge (Hosted by Yours Truly)

My Progress:


30 / 30 books. 100% done!

2024 Literary Escapes Challenge

- Alabama (1)
- Alaska (1)
- Arizona (1)
- Arkansas (1)
- California (11)
- Colorado (1)
- Connecticut (2)
- Delaware (1)
- Florida (3)
- Georgia (3)
- Hawaii (1)
- Idaho (2)
- Illinois (4)
- Indiana (4)
- Iowa (1)
- Kansas (1)
- Kentucky (1)
- Louisiana (1)
- Maine (1)
- Maryland (1)
- Massachusetts (3)
- Michigan (1)
- Minnesota (2)
- Mississippi (1)
- Missouri (1)
- Montana (1)
- Nebraska (1)
- Nevada (2)
- New Hampshire (1)
- New Jersey (1)
- New Mexico (1)
- New York (9)
- North Carolina (4)
- North Dakota (1)
- Ohio (3)
- Oklahoma (2)
- Oregon (2)
- Pennsylvania (2)
- Rhode Island (1)
- South Carolina (1)
- South Dakota (1)
- Tennessee (1)
- Texas (4)
- Utah (4)
- Vermont (2)
- Virginia (2)
- Washington (3)
- West Virginia (1)
- Wisconsin (1)
- Wyoming (2)
- Washington, D.C.* (2)

International:
- Argentina (1)
- Australia (3)
- Bolivia (1)
- Canada (3)
- China (2)
- England (25)
- France (1)
- Ghana (1)
- India (1)
- Indonesia (1)
- Ireland (4)
- Italy (1)
- Poland (1)
- Russia (2)
- Scotland (3)
- The Netherlands (1)

My Progress:


51 / 51 states. 100% done!

2024 Historical Fiction Reading Challenge

My Progress:


52 / 50 books. 104% done!

2024 POPSUGAR Reading Challenge


36 / 50 books. 72% done!

Booklist Queen's 2024 Reading Challenge

My Progress:


52 / 52 books. 100% done!

2024 52 Club Reading Challenge

My Progress:


50 / 52 books. 96% done!

2024 Build Your Library Reading Challenge

My Progress:


37 / 40 books. 93% done!

2024 Pioneer Book Reading Challenge


18 / 40 books. 45% done!

2024 Craving for Cozies Reading Challenge

My Progress:


25 / 25 cozies. 100% done!

2024 Medical Examiner's Mystery Reading Challenge

2024 Mystery Marathon Reading Challenge

My Progress


2 / 26.2 miles (4th lap). 8% done!

Mount TBR Reading Challenge

My Progress


43 / 100 books. 43% done!

2024 Pick Your Poison Reading Challenge

My Progress:


97 / 109 books. 89% done!

Around the Year in 52 Books Reading Challenge

My Progress


52 / 52 books. 100% done!

Disney Animated Movies Reading Challenge

My Progress


136 / 165 books. 82% done!

The 100 Most Common Last Names in the U.S. Reading Challenge

My Progress:


85 / 100 names. 85% done!

The Life Skills Reading Challenge

My Progress:


30 / 80 skills. 38% done!
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Thursday, October 01, 2020

"Perfect" Parenting Aside, She Gets That From Me Is a Buoyant, Upbeat Read

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Quinn Langston has always wanted a family of her own.  With no marriage prospects on the horizon, the 36-year-old interior designer is considering using a sperm donor to have a baby on her own—just like her best friend, Brooke Adams, did.  Then, Brooke dies suddenly and unexpectedly from a brain aneurysm.  Although Brooke's 3-year-old daughter, Lily, is technically under the guardianship of her 79-year-old grandmother, Quinn steps up to care for both the little girl and elderly Miss Margaret.  Aiding the two helps Quinn grieve while also fulfilling her desire for a family.  

Then, Miss Margaret throws Quinn a curveball.  She wants to find Lily's birth father, insisting that only family can raise family.  

When Zach Bradley donated his sperm back in college, he was thinking only about the money it would earn him, not about the children it could produce.  Although he's shocked by the reality of having a child, Zach's prepared to step up.  One problem:  his wife, who has struggled for years to have a baby, can't stand the thought of watching him play daddy to another woman's baby.  They're already in the middle of a move to faraway Seattle.  What does Zach really owe Lily and her family?

As the lives of Quinn, Zach, Margaret, and Zach's wife, Jessica, converge, all of them will learn important lessons about love, duty, sacrifice, and what it really means to be a family.

She Gets That From Me by Robin Wells is an engrossing novel with an intriguing and very contemporary conflict at its core.  It's peopled with a likable cast, each member of which I found sympathetic, even if I didn't agree with their particular choices and viewpoints.  While the plot is mostly predictable, the story still kept me engaged.  It's warm, upbeat, and heartfelt.  Quinn and Zach both struck me as a little too perfect—each needed some annoying flaws to make them more human.  I also chuckled at Quinn's almost seamless transition into single motherhood and her "struggles" with parenting.  True, a little whining and projectile vomit isn't fun, but it's hardly the pinnacle of problems when it comes to dealing with a young child, especially one whose world has been rocked by death and upheaval.  I get that She Gets That From Me strives to present single parenting by choice in a positive, respectful light, but I wish it had been a little more authentic.  I've been through four 3-year-olds and it wasn't easy, even with a loving partner to help me deal with them!  Quinn's experience just felt inauthentic, which made me roll my eyes instead of connect more strongly with her.  These complaints aside, I enjoyed She Gets That From Me.  Its premise is intriguing, its characters are relatable, its vibe is buoyant, and its lessons are valuable.  Despite its flaws, I found it an engaging and thought-provoking read.

(Readalikes:  Hm, I can't think of anything.  You?)

Grade:


If this were a movie, it would be rated:


for language (1 F-bomb, plus a few milder expletives) and innuendo

To the FTC, with love:  I received an e-ARC of She Gets That From Me from the generous folks at Penguin Random House in exchange for an honest review.  Thank you!

Friday, September 25, 2020

Family Drama Offers Compelling Story and Relatable Characters

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Meredith Parker's twins have been away at college for four years, but she's still getting used to the idea of having an empty nest.  Their upcoming graduation has her feeling especially unmoored.  It doesn't help that their graduation celebration will involve spending extended time with her ex-husband and his very young fiancée.  While Meredith and her husband, Roger, vow to be on their best behavior and make the most of their weekend away, no one can guarantee that sparks won't fly.  Especially when each member of the family is harboring their own secrets ... 

If the plot for Best Behavior by Wendy Francis seems a little thin, that's because it is.  The novel is more episodic than structured, something I usually dislike because it creates stories that are unfocused, meandering, and often boring.  Not so with Best Behavior.  There's enough drama going on that the tale never gets dull.  The characters are well-drawn, each with realistic flaws and insecurities.  I might not have liked all of them, but I could relate to each on some level.  Overall, I enjoyed the novel although I can't say I loved it.  

A funny:  I did get a good laugh out of the fact that the twins' graduation supposedly takes place in Spring 2020—and it proceeds as normal with an in-person ceremony, no face masks, no social distancing, and not one mention of COVID-19.  Since I read an e-ARC of the book, it's possible the year was changed in the final printing of the book. 

(Readalikes:  Hm, no specific titles are coming to mind.  You?)

Grade:


If this were a movie, it would be rated:


for language (one F-bomb, plus milder expletives), mild sexual content, and depictions of illegal drug use and the abuse of prescription drugs

To the FTC, with love:  I received an e-ARC of Best Behavior from the generous folks at HarperCollins in exchange for an honest review.  Thank you!

Monday, June 22, 2020

And ... That's a Big Ole Meh From Me

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Ever since her mother's marriage and the subsequent birth of her baby brothers, Hazel Box has been feeling like the odd woman out.  With all of her emotions boiling inside her, she needs to do something before she erupts.  When she gets a surprise message on social media from Eve Warrington, a sophisticated teen who claims to be Hazel's half-sister, it feels like perfect timing.  Even better, Eve is planning to spend two weeks in Maine with their father and wants Hazel to come along.  The getaway is just the something Hazel has been waiting for—not only will she get a break from her family, but she'll have the chance to get to know her father and her half-sister at the same time.  What could possibly go wrong?  

I'm a fan of novels about family members finding each other, so I jumped at the chance to read That Summer in Maine by Brianna Wolfson.  It sounded like a cute, upbeat sister story that would be both entertaining and poignant.  Turns out, less than half of the novel focuses on Hazel and Eve.  The first part of the story concerns the girls' mothers and how they both fall in love with the same man, get pregnant, and learn how to live with the consequences.  Since the women's stories are nothing unique or all that interesting, the focus on them makes the first part of the book drag on and on.  The action picks up when the camera's eye turns back on the girls.  Although their half of the novel is more engaging, it's still not super compelling.  The plot flip-flops here, there, and everywhere without going much of anywhere.  It doesn't help that the characters are irritating—the mothers are needy, the girls are brats, and the dad is pretty darn clueless—and many of their decisions make no sense at all.  Wolfson's tell-not-show prose just makes everything worse.  For all these reasons, I put That Summer in Maine down several times.  In the end, though, I decided to stick it out.  Why?  I really don't know because this novel drove me crazy!  I like its premise, its tranquil cover, and its out-of-the-way setting.  Other than that?  Meh.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me a little of Far From the Tree by Robin Benway)

Grade:


If this were a movie, it would be rated:


for language (a dozen or so F-bombs, plus milder invectives), depictions of underage drinking, and mild sexual content/innuendo

To the FTC, with love:  I received an e-ARC of That Summer in Maine from the generous folks at Harlequin in exchange for an honest review.  Thank you!
Saturday, September 21, 2019

Mystery/Courtroom Drama Intriguing, But Still Just an Okay Read for Me

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Not everyone is on board with the idea of hyperbaric oxygen therapy (HBOT), but that's the business Pak and Young Yoo run out of their garage.  Using a submarine-like chamber, the Korean immigrants offer the treatment to patients suffering from everything from infertility to cerebral palsy to autism.  While some tout the miraculous healing power of pressurized oxygen, others are skeptical, while still others will stop at nothing to get the Yoos' operation shut down.  When their "Miracle Submarine" explodes, killing two people and leaving Pak paralyzed, the Yoos become the center of a fierce legal battle to determine who was at fault.     

As the trial progresses, revealing ugly secrets about everyone involved, it provides more questions than answers.  How did the explosion happen?  Was it an accident or the result of the Yoos' negligence?  Did someone purposely rig the submarine to explode?  If so, who?  And why?  Did the Yoos do it in order to collect the insurance money needed to send their daughter to college?  Were the protestors on-site that day desperate enough to risk people's lives to prove their point?  Or was it Elizabeth Ward, the exhausted mother of a little boy with too many problems, trying to put them both out of their misery?  At the heart of the matter is one very big question:  How far will parents go to save their children?  When the truth finally comes out, it will shock everyone, changing lives forever.

Miracle Creek, a debut by Angie Kim, is an absorbing novel that examines some very intriguing questions.  It's depressing as can be, but also compelling and thought-provoking.  Most of the characters are empathetic if not exactly likable; it's their stories that really bring the novel to life.  Parents, especially those of children with disabilities, will identify with characters like Elizabeth Ward, Teresa Santiago, and Kitt Kozlowski—all of whom are fervently seeking ways to deal with kids with severe challenges.  Readers may not agree with their individual choices, but they can at least understand the motivations that propel them.  In the end, while I found Miracle Creek engrossing and its storyline interesting, it turned out to be just an okay read for me.  I liked it, didn't love it.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of novels by Celeste Ng)

Grade:


If this were a movie, it would be rated:


for strong language, violence, blood/gore, sexual content, and disturbing subject matter

To the FTC, with love:  I bought a copy of Miracle Creek from Amazon with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger.  Ha ha.
Wednesday, February 20, 2019

Little Big Love: I Laughed, I Cried, I Loved It

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Juliet Hutchinson may be tired, overweight, and perennially bankrupt, but she's making it.  Barely.  She lives in a dingy council flat, subsists on cheap convenience food, and can't always be home at night due to her dead-end job.  Still, Juliet pours what little energy she has into the care of her 10-year-old son, Zac.  It's not a glamorous life, but at least Zac knows that he's loved, that his mom would do anything for him.  What he doesn't realize is that she's been lying to him his whole life.  She's done it to protect his fragile ego—and her own.  After all, it's easier on Juliet's non-existent self-esteem to forget that Liam Jones—Zac's father and the only man she's ever loved—walked out on them when Zac was only two weeks old.

Even though Zac has a doting grandpa who does "dad" things with him, the boy can't help but wonder about the father he's never known.  His mum and her parents insist Liam is a waste of space and they're better off without him.  But if Zac's dad is such a loser, why did his mother love him so much? And, if Zac has half Liam's DNA, does that mean Zac will grow up to be a bad person, too?  The only way to get answers is to find Liam.  If his father's not a bad person, maybe Zac can even get his parents back together so his mum can be happy again.

With Zac's Find Dad mission, he unwittingly opens a can of worms that will crack open the secrets, pains, and hard truths that have defined his family's lives for the past decade.  As each of them is forced to face the things they've done, the lies they've told, and the assumptions they've made, they may finally be able to find healing, forgiveness, and peace.

Little Big Love by Katy Regan is a sweet, but heart-wrenching novel about a vulnerable boy and his search for answers.  It tells a warm, hopeful story, one that is, nonetheless, realistic and peopled with complex, flawed human beings.  Both engaging and engrossing, Little Big Love is an enjoyable read about redemption, forgiveness, and the kind of truths that set men (even little big ones) free.  I laughed, I cried, I loved it.

(Readalikes:  Hm, I can't think of anything.  Can you?)

Grade:


If this were a movie, it would be rated:


for strong language and some violence

To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished copy of Little Big Love from the generous folks at Penguin Random House.  Thank you!
Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Keep It Real ... You Might Learn Something

(Image from author's blog)

My kids have been out of school for a couple days now and, let me tell you, parenting just got a lot more real around here!  For the past ten months, all four of my children have been spending most of their day at school.  Now that summer break is here?  They're home.  All day.  With assorted friends in tow.  My quiet halcyon days are no more—now they're filled with the sounds of video games, cartoons and whines of "I'm bored" and "Mooommmm, he/she's teasing me!"  Every summer I wonder if I'm going to survive the next couple months, let alone the remainder of my parenting career (which, as you know, is pretty much a life-long thing). 

Enter Julie K. Nelson, a blogger, college professor, and (most importantly) the mother of five children.  Her new book, Keep it Real and Grab a Plunger, offers some tried-and-true, down-to-Earth advice about how to maintain your sanity while working "the toughest job you'll ever love."  Parenting isn't for wimps, after all.  Nelson's 25 Tips for Surviving Parenthood are a little random—they run the gamut from how to soothe your child's fears to inspiring kids through learning their family history to controlling Internet use at home to the importance of having a pet.  Each section offers expert advice pulled from Nelson's own experience, quotes from prominent members of society, and suggestions from other moms who have spent some time in the parenting trenches. 

Keep It Real and Grab a Plunger doesn't say anything new or revolutionary.  You've heard it all before.  But, Nelson says her piece in an upbeat, encouraging manner that makes her book very readable.  Truthfully, I wasn't expecting any big a-ha moments while reading it, so the chapter on yelling (Keep It Real ... and Take a Time-Out) surprised me with its aptness.  It offered some great tactics that I hadn't necessarily considered (Let your kids record your tirades with a cell phone?  That would be sobering.)  As parents, we need all the help we can get (even if we've been on the job so long we think we know everything), and Keep It Real and Grab a Plunger offers that.  Maybe you won't learn anything new from it, but maybe you'll find a nugget or two of useful information.  I did.  So, while this book won't revolutionize the parenting world, it's definitely worth a read.  


(Readalikes:  Other parenting books, although no specific title comes to mind)

Grade:


If this were a movie, it would be rated:


To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished e-copy of Keep It Real and Grab a Plunger from its generous author, Julie K. Nelson.  Thank you!

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Mermaid the Perfect Novel to Savor Over Long, Lazy Days of Summer

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Stay-at-home mom Jenny Lipkin is doing just fine, thank you very much.  She's left behind her career as a magazine editor to raise her daughters, 2-year-old Betty and baby Rose.  So what if her Park Slope apartment's about the size of a Twinkie?  Or if her husband doesn't make enough money to afford one of the fancy new strollers all the other moms are sporting?  So, Jenny's not as svelte or skilled as the other women around her.  So what?  She's happy enough.  Isn't she?  Actually, she's tottering on the brink of insanity.  She loves her kids, but they're sucking all the life out of her.  She loves being at home, but it's making her crazy.  She loves her life, but it's not turning out quite the way she's planned.  And then there's the unrelenting heat; it's boiling her brain.  That, combined with new-mommy sleep deprivation, is enough to make Jenny want to crawl into her bed (baby spit-up spattered sheets, be darned) and never, ever come out.

Then, her husband bails.  Harry's disappearance isn't even all that unusual—he's a gambler, who goes on frequent binges—but it's enough to put Jenny over the edge.  Especially when weeks roll by with no word from him.  Numbed by anger, fear and desperation, she makes a shocking decision, one that will change her life forever—just not in the way she thinks.

With help from a very unlikely source, Jenny looks at her life in a whole new light.  As she changes her attitude and approach, she finds herself starting to become the woman she's always wanted to be.  But a little attitude can go a long way and when Jenny crosses a line she swore she never would, it's time to step back and ask herself the tough questions:  Who is she, really?  What does she truly want?  How much is she willing to sacrifice to finally find happiness?

I wasn't sure what to expect from The Mermaid of Brooklyn by Amy Shearn, but the novel surprised me.  In a very good way.  From the first sentence of her story, Jenny proves herself to be the kind of honest, self-deprecating character with whom any woman can relate.  She's funny and sympathetic and so real, you just want to reach out and hug her.  Even when she messes up big time, you feel for the girl.  This is a character-driven novel and Jenny Lipkin's more than strong enough to carry it.  The book's got some annoying typos/copy-editing errors, but overall, I ended up really enjoying The Mermaid of Brooklyn.  It's a fierce, empowering read, a perfect novel to savor during the long, lazy days of summer.

(Readalikes:  Hm, I can't think of anything.  Can you?)

Grade:  B+

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  R for strong language and sexual innuendo/content

To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished copy of The Mermaid of Brooklyn from the generous folks at Simon and Schuster via those at BookSparks PR.  Thank you!


Sunday, June 09, 2013

Did It Make Me Think? Yes. Did It Make Me Yawn? Also, Yes.

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

How many times has a frustrated parent lamented, "If only kids came with an instruction manual!"  Well, guess what?  They do.  Yes, really.  And, where might you find this elusive book of parenting advice?  Simply open your scriptures.  Within the pages of the Bible, The Book of Mormon, and other volumes of holy writ, you will find every lesson a person needs to learn in life as well as examples of how to teach it to your children.  In Parenting with Spiritual Power, LDS teacher and author Julie K. Nelson assures parents that if they will study the stories in the scriptures along with teachings from modern prophets, they will have a clear, step-by-step guide to rearing good, obedient children.   

In the book, Nelson discusses 20 powerful doctrines taught in the scriptures that provide valuable lessons for children (and their parents!), including the power of faith, forgiveness, agency, sacrifice and the loving correction of rebellious behavior.  Nelson reviews the stories of famous scriptural people like Moses; Joseph and Mary; Adam and Eve; Alma and Amulek; and Captain Moroni, then discusses how to apply what these people learned in your own life and those of your kids.  Along with quotes from modern-day prophets, Nelson proves how important each of these doctrines are not just for children, but for all of us.

Nelson provides some very useful information in this short book (it's less than 200 pages).  It's nothing parents, especially those of the LDS faith, haven't heard before and yet it's the kind of stuff that can't be repeated often enough.  Still, I found myself growing a little bit bored with Nelson's detailed recountings of stories I've heard over and over throughout my life.  Parenting with Spiritual Power is a short book that felt really long to me.  I'm not sure why because it's not badly written, it's just exactly what you would expect from an LDS parenting book.  There's nothing that really makes Parenting with Spiritual Power stand out.  My conclusion?  This is a helpful book, but not a terribly exciting one.  Did it make me think?  Yes.  Did it make me yawn?  Also, yes.  In the end, it was just an okay read for me.  

(Readalikes:  Hm, I don't read a lot of books like this [although I probably should], so I can't think of anything.  Can you?)

Grade:  B-

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  G for nothing offensive

To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished copy of Parenting with Spiritual Power from the generous Julie K. Nelson via the folks at Cedar Fort.   
Monday, May 27, 2013

Congrats, Tiger Baby, You're a Mommy. Now What?

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

When Amy Chua's book, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, came out in 2011, it incensed mothers everywhere.  Including this one.  The book (which I reviewed here) chronicles Chua's experience using traditional Chinese parenting tactics to bully her kids into becoming not just straight A students, but also world-class musicians.  While Chua's oldest daughter did exactly that, her youngest put up some resistance.  Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother is the story of that daughter's rebellion (she was 13 at the time) and how it forced Chua to examine her unyielding parenting practices against the obvious unhappiness it was producing in her child.  While this may lead you to expect a grand epiphany about motherhood, the drawbacks of stiff, too-strict parenting, and the importance of letting children be children, that's not exactly what happens.  Instead, as I noted in my review: "There's no self-deprecating humor here, no humble admittance of mistakes, just a half-hearted acknowledgment that Chua's dictatorial parenting style might not work for every child."  

So, yeah, the book definitely caused a stir.  And, even though Chua now insists the memoir is "mostly self-parody," it's difficult to see anything funny in it.  The backlash against Chua's parenting, in my opinion at least, was very well-deserved.  Naturally, then, Kim Wong Keltner's new book—a rebuttal to Chua's called Tiger Babies Strike Back—caught my attention.  I definitely wanted to hear what a real-life "Tiger Baby" had to say. 

Keltner is a Chinese-American who was raised in San Francisco by an uncompromising Tiger Mother and an equally strict father.  Between them and a host of Chinese relatives who lived in the area, Keltner grew up under a hailstorm of constant criticism, intense academic pressure, and the absolute belief that she would never—ever—be successful enough to please her family.  When Keltner brings her own daughter into the world, she vows to give the child a very different kind of upbringing, one filled with praise, affection and encouragement.  She wants to keep her daughter safe from the clutches of all Tiger Mothers, including her own.  But what if that means moving away from the only home she's ever known, alienating herself from her family and starting over in some white-washed place where Keltner and her daughter are the only Asians?  How does she give her child a healthy, balanced view of who she is without exposing her to her Chinese side, however self-deflating it might be for the little girl?  That's what Keltner has to figure out as she battles her own Tiger Mother tendencies in order to give her daughter the happy, nurturing childhood she never got to enjoy. 

While Keltner's memoir is not nearly as impassioned or provocative as Chua's, it's still an interesting examination of life under a Tiger Mother's rule.  Keltner's honest and funny, sarcastic and fierce.  Her insights into what it means to be a modern Chinese-American woman and mother are likewise so.  Still, her story's disjointed as well as just a bit over-the-top.  Plus, she whines a lot for being a stay-at-home mom of only one child.  Overall, though, I appreciated Keltner's point-of-view.  It adds another dimension to the whole Chinese-style vs. American-style parenting debate, which is, in itself, quite thought-provoking.  Not to mention infuriating.   

(Readalikes:  Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua; also reminded me of The Joy-Luck Club and other books by Amy Tan)

Grade:  B-

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  PG-13 for language (one F-bomb as well as a couple of others that are abbreviated, instead of spelled-out, plus milder invectives) and mild sexual innuendo/content)   

To the FTC, with love:  I received an ARC of Tiger Babies Strike Back from the generous folks at Harper Collins via those at TLC Book Tours.  Thank you!         

       
Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Birth Memoir Tackles Grief, Disappointment and Finding Beauty Where You Least Expect It

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

Kelle Hampton is the kind of woman who plans things down to a T.  Including the birth of a child.  As her belly swelled in anticipation of her first baby's arrival, she wrestled with every last detail to ensure the event would go off perfectly.  The 31-year-old knew who would be in the delivery room when her baby came (her husband and best girlfriends), what they would listen to while she pushed (carefully-selected birthing music), which outfit she would don while receiving visitors (a slinky nightgown and a tiara), and that she would distribute handmade party favors (yes, really) to everyone who stopped by to see the newborn.  Everything about the day would be perfect.  Absolutely flawless.  

Then, Nella Cordelia arrived.  With Down syndrome.  And all of Kelle's work toward having the perfect birth experience with the perfect baby flew out the door.  Because, despite her obsessive planning, the baby in her arms was far from the one Kelle had been expecting.  Although she looked as pink and round as the healthiest infant, Nella carried an extra chromosome—and that made all the difference.  As Kelle absorbed the devastating diagnosis, she went through every possible emotion.  Bottom line: she had to learn to love her baby.  The question was how to do so when she felt so scared, so let down, so helpless. 

Kelle found the process so difficult that she poured out all of her feelings about it on a blog that became enormously popular.  In 2012, her blog entries, along with dozens of family photos, were assembled and published as the best-selling memoir, Bloom.  And it's a lovely book, in lots of ways.  The photographs are striking, the prose stirring.  The journey Kelle recounts feels so real and raw that it's almost as if it's happening right here, right now, to you.  It's touching, no doubt about it.  Because even as Kelle recalls even her ugliest thoughts and emotions, she does it with a sincerity that underscores her ultimate message—beauty can be discovered in even the most surprising packages. 

Now, I admit that I almost set this book aside a few times.  The prologue made me roll my eyes and wonder if I could really relate to an adult woman who wore a tiara while receiving visitors in the hospital.  But I persevered.  Later, as Kelle took two hundred pages to work through her grief and disappointment, I found myself more than a little irritated with her self-indulgent whining.  It's eloquent whining, don't get me wrong, but since I'm more of an accept-what-you-can't-change-and-move-on kind of person, it grated on my nerves.  As did Kelle's constant neediness.  Still, I appreciated the honesty and passion with which Kelle told her story.  And even though the book isn't really about the ins and outs of parenting a special needs child, it is about learning how to accept them, to nurture them, and to endow them with the fiercest, most empowering gift you can give them—your undying love.  I can get behind that message, even if it comes from a whiny woman wearing a plastic tiara.

(Readalikes:  Hm, I can't think of anything.  Can you?)

Grade:  B

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  PG-13 for language (no F-bombs), and very mild sexual innuendo/content

To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished copy of Bloom from the generous folks at Harper Collins via those at TLC Book Tours.  Thank you!
Monday, February 25, 2013

Foster Mom Memoir Compelling Despite Dull Prose

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When Cathy Glass, a British woman who's been a foster mother for over 25 years, is asked to take in an abrasive 8-year-old, she hesitates.  With a history of violent behavior, especially toward her mom, little Aimee Mason has been labeled "The Child From Hell."  Cathy's had plenty of experience with troubled children, but this one might be too much, even for her.  Still, she can't turn her back on a needy child, so she accepts the challenge of fostering Aimee.

The more Cathy gets to know her young charge, the more she realizes just how thoroughly Aimee has been abused.  As the little girl learns to trust her foster mother, Cathy hears stories that make her blood run cold.  Considering the horrifying home life Aimee endured, the only question is:  Why wasn't she removed from her home sooner?  How could the foster care system have failed a child whose name had been on their records since birth?  Cathy knows she can't let it happen again—she has to make sure Aimee never suffers that kind of abuse again.  But will the child's drug addict mother be sly enough to get Aimee back?  Or can Cathy save the child that everyone else has refused to give a second glance?  The life of a tortured young girl hangs in the balance ...

Cathy Glass has written a number of books—both fiction and non—based on the children she's fostered over the years.  The newest, Another Forgotten Child, is Aimee's story.  And it's just as appalling as it sounds.  Although the details Glass offers about the child's abuse are not as graphic as they no doubt could be, they're still plenty disturbing.  To think that a young girl had to endure all of it just boggles the mind.  Which is, no doubt, why Glass wrote this book.  She's obviously passionate about alerting the public to the abuse some children experience in their homes, encouraging healthy families to help by becoming foster parents, and inspiring adults to stand up for kids who are being mistreated.  Glass' cause is admirable, of course.  Her delivery needs some work, though.  Although the story chronicled  in Another Forgotten Child is compelling, Glass uses dull, tell-not-show prose, making the narration a bit bumpy.  All in all, I found the book impactful, I just wish the writing had been more dynamic.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of the books Torey L. Hayden wrote about the children she helped while working as a teacher and therapist)

Grade:  C

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  R for strong language, violence, and depictions of severe child abuse/neglect

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Bumpy Prose Aside, The Good Father Makes For A Compelling Read

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Travis Brown never planned on becoming a father at 18, let alone a single one, but ever since his daughter's birth four years ago, Travis has had only one goal:  to do right by Bella.  And he has.  It hasn't been an easy life or a glamorous one and yet, Bella's growing into a smart, healthy, sweet little girl.  Travis couldn't ask for anything more.  

Robin Saville shouldn't even be alive, but here she is, about to become the wife of the next mayor of small town Beaufort, North Carolina.  She should be thrilled about it all—her upcoming society wedding, her powerful in-laws, her new position as one of Beaufort's elite—it's more than her weak little heart could have taken.  Thank goodness for her heart transplant and the hope it's given her for a long, happy life.  Only, ever since her 17-year-old sister-in-law to be gave birth to a baby girl, Robin's felt unsettled.  Old emotions are rising to the surface, reminding Robin that, not so long ago, she brought her own newborn daughter into the world ...

Erin Patterson, a pharmacist in Raleigh, can't get over her own loss.  Four-year-old Carolyn was her light and her life, the sunshine that lit her entire universe.  When the little girl died, she might as well have taken her mother with her.  Torn up by her grief, Erin feels too paralyzed to work, to talk to her husband, or to move on with her life.  Then, Bella Brown walks into Erin's favorite coffee shop and all that starts to change.

When tragedy strikes, Travis doesn't know where to turn.  Construction jobs are difficult to find in a struggling economy and Travis is having no luck finding anything else.  With less than $20 in his wallet, he's hit rock bottom.  He can get by with nothing, but he's not about to let Bella starve.  Then, an opportunity in Raleigh presents itself.  Travis knows it's not exactly legit.  He also knows he can't take a child along on such a risky "job."  So, he does something crazy, something that goes so horribly awry that Travis could lose everything, including the only thing that really matters to him—Bella.    

As a desperate father tries to save his daughter, Robin and Erin are pulled into the mess, a catastrophe that will change all of their lives forever. 

The Good Father by Diane Chamberlain grabbed me from the first line, even though the sentence "It was nine-forty when I woke up in the back of the van" is only marginally intriguing.  It wasn't really the writing that got me, anyway, but the characters of Travis and Bella.  Their plight tore at my heart right from the start.  The rest of the story moves swiftly—although the writing and editing are a little bumpy—leading to a can't-put-it-down-until-you-know-how-it-ends conclusion.  The book definitely kept me entertained, although the story often feels contrived and the writing could have been much tighter.  Still, I enjoyed the read.  Because I liked it, I browsed through summaries of Chamberlain's other books and, let's just say, The Good Father won't be the last book I read by this author.  Her prose may not be perfect, but, oooh, a compelling premise will get me every time!

(Readalikes:  Reminded me of June Bug by Chris Fabry and The First Part Last by Angela Johnson)

Grade:  C+

If this were a movie, it would be rated:  R for strong language, some sexual content and mature themes 

To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished copy of The Good Father by Diane Chamberlain from the generous folks at Meryl L. Moss Media Relations, Inc.  Thank you! 
Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Tiaras + Glass Slippers + Magic Wands = Self-Centered, Narcissistic Material Girls?

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"'Princess' is how we tell little girls that they are special, precious. 'Princess' is how we express our aspirations, hopes, and dreams for them. 'Princess' is the wish that we could protect them from pain, that they would never know sorrow, that they will live happily ever after ensconced in lace and innocence" (81).


If you're the mother of a little girl, you're no doubt familiar with the Disney Princess phenomenon. How could you not be? The princesses—Cinderella, Snow White, Belle, Sleeping Beauty, Ariel, Tiana, etc.—decorate everything from clothing to bedding to cans of Spaghettios. Their wholesome, inspiring images appeal not just to young girls, but to parents, who find the innocent, fairy tale magic appealing in the increasingly risque world of pop culture. But how innocent is the multibillion dollar "girlie-girl" industry (which includes not just the Princesses, but Barbie, American Girl, etc.), really? Is it doing what parents hope it's doing—encouraging imaginative play, teaching girls to reach for their dreams, and empowering them to embrace femininity, but not be limited by it—or is it turning sweet little princesses into self-centered, narcissistic material girls who expect to be treated like royalty, no matter how they act in return?

To find out, Peggy Orenstein, a writer and mother of one daughter, studied all things pink—from the Princesses at Disneyland to historical dolls at American Girl Place to the backstage world of child beauty pageants. As she trolled through this frothy pastel world, she discovered some shocking trends, issues that convinced her to approach the pretty Princess world with caution. All mothers want their daughters to feel attractive, confident and empowered, but not if it means turning out spoiled brats who are so greedy, selfish and materialistic that they can't function in the real world. As Orenstein examines this troubling fantasyland phenomenon, she offers encouragement and information with the goal of arming parents against the potentially damaging effects of Princess culture on their daughters.

While I don't agree with everything Orenstein says ("I expect and want my daughter to have a healthy, joyous erotic life before marriage. Long, long, long before marriage" [129] - I mean, what mother wants that?), I found Cinderella Ate My Daughter to be both entertaining and disturbing, revealing and troubling. Orenstein writes with an engaging, mother-to-mother tone that allows readers to feel her passion and concern for young girls everywhere. Whether you find Orenstein's attitude toward the sparkly girlie-girl world hysterical and exaggerated or convincing, if not right-on-the-money, one thing is certain: She'll give you something to think about.

(Readalikes: Hm, I can't think of anything. Can you?)

Grade: B

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG-13 for language (no F-bombs) and frank talk about sexuality

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of Cinderella Ate My Daughter from the generous folks at Harper Collins and TLC Book Tours.

Thursday, February 09, 2012

Things That Make Me Go Meh

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

As part of ELLE Magazine's Reader's Jury program, I was asked to review two parenting memoirs—Some Assembly Required by Anne Lamott (with her son, Sam) and Making Babies: Stumbling into Motherhood by Anne Enright—and choose which I liked best. A tough job, since the truth is, I didn't care much for either one of them. Is there something about women who become mothers for the first time in their late 30s that just makes them whiny and bitter? Or, is it because these ladies are both tell-it-like-it-is authors who express the things all mothers feel, but don't dare to say out loud? I'm not sure, but sheesh! I'm all for honest, funny takes on the old parenting game, but I prefer them to be light-hearted and uplifting, not gripe-y and depressing.

First published in 2004 (the version I read will be available April 2012), Making Babies actually compares better with Lamott's first memoir, Operating Instructions, which details Lamott's experience as a single, 35-year-old, first-time mother. Like Lamott, Enright is a writer who came to motherhood later in life. After 18 years of marriage, Enright found herself expecting at age 37, then again at 39. Having children, naturally, turned the life of the successful, independent novelist upside-down. Just as naturally, she decided to write about all of those ups and downs, publishing many of her thoughts as essays in European newspapers and magazines. Gathered together in Making Babies, they form an odd, random assortment of musings on babyhood and parenting.

At turns deep, sentimental and strange, the essays run the gamut from thought-provoking to hilarious to just plain old weird. Since there's no real, unifying point to the writings, I found the collection to be a bit too here, there and everywhere for my liking. Overall, I really didn't care for it, although I did find these gems within:

"I thought childbirth was a sort of journey that you could send dispatches home from, but of course it is not—it is home. Everywhere else now, is 'abroad'" (58).

"I can make babies, for heaven's sake, novels are a doddle" (60).

"Children are actually a form of brain-washing. They are a cult, a perfectly legal cult. Think about it. When you join a cult you are undernourished, you are denied sleep, you are forced to do repetitive and pointless tasks at random hours of the day and night, then you stare deep into your despotic leader's eyes, repeating meaningless phrases, or mantras, like Ooh da gorgeous. Yes, you are! Cult members, like parents, are overwhelmed by spiritual feelings and often burst into tears. Cult members, like parents, spout nonsense with a happy, blank look in their eyes. They know they're sort of mad, but they can't help it. They call it love" (148-49).

(Readalikes: Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott)

Grade: C

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for strong language and sexual content

To the FTC, with love: I received an ARC of Making Babies from ELLE Magazine in exchange for a fair and honest review.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Lamott's Griping Makes Grandparenting Memoir More Annoying Than Affecting

(Image from Barnes & Noble)


(Note: While it is certainly not necessary to read Operating Instructions before its sequel, Some Assembly Required, I recommend doing so in order to get a more panoramic view of the relationship between Anne Lamott and her son.)

When Anne Lamott's son (the one whose first year she chronicled in Operating Instructions) becomes a father at nineteen, she deals with it the same way she did her own surprise pregnancy twenty years ago - she journals. Putting everything down on paper helps Lamott cope with all the anxiety, frustration and stress she feels while watching her only child, Sam, learn how to be a father. At the same time, it gives her a vehicle for expressing the intense love she has for her grandson, Jax ("This is the one fly in the grandma ointment—the total love addiction—the highest highs, and then withdrawal, craving, scheming to get another fix" (40-41). As with Operating Instructions, Lamott's unfailing honesty makes her story intimate, engrossing and illuminating.

I have to say, though, that while I found Lamott's neurotic nature more or less endearing in Operating Instructions, it annoyed me to no end in Some Assembly Required. Perhaps it's because as Jax's grandmother—not mother—she's more removed from the situation, making her insanity less justified (in my humble opinion). Naturally, Lamott's concerned for her only grandchild, especially due to the tumultuous relationship between his parents, but after a while, I found myself siding more with Jax's mother than grandmother. I kept wanting to yell at her (as Sam's girlfriend, Amy, no doubt did), "Just mind your own blankety-blank-blank business, Lamott." Still, the author's commentary brings up some good questions about grandparenting: How involved should parents be in the lives of their adult kids and their children? Should they have any say in how their grandchildren are being raised, especially if the kids are growing up in a stable environment, if, perhaps, not a perfect one? And are adult children required to listen to their parents' advice, opinions and criticism when it comes to child-rearing? I think the conclusion Lamott finally comes to—that she has no control over the situation whatsoever—is probably most apt.

So, what's my final word on Some Assembly Required (which comes out in March 2012, by the way)? While the book is both funny and thought-provoking, it's not nearly as impactful as Operating Instructions, probably because it lacks the immediacy of Lamott's first parenting memoir. Some Assembly Required definitely asks important questions about grandparenting, but Lamott's griping—constant and irritating—overshadowed everything else. Maybe it's only because I haven't reached that stage of life yet and cannot possibly understand the worries of a grandmother, but the only thing this book makes me want to do is give Grandma Lamott a good shake and tell her to chill out a little.

(Readalikes: Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott)

Grade: C

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for strong language

To the FTC, with love: I received an ARC of Some Assembly Required through Elle magazine's Reader's Jury program. All quotes were taken from said ARC.

Monday, January 09, 2012

Operating Instructions A Little Too Honest, But Still Enlightening

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

"I just can't get over how much babies cry. I really had no idea what I was getting into. To tell you the truth, I thought it would be more like getting a cat" (66).

When writer Anne Lamott finds herself alone and pregnant at age 35, she's terrified. The baby's father wants nothing to do with the unborn child, but Lamott discovers that she does. Very much so. Despite being scared, despite being completely clueless about kid-rearing, despite the fact that she's "too self-centered, cynical, eccentric, and edgy to raise a baby" (4), she decides to do it anyway.

Operating Instructions is Lamott's journal of that first year with her son, Sam. With unfailing honesty, self-deprecating humor, and a voice that feels like your best friend's, she writes about the ups and downs of motherhood. Lamott says nothing I've not heard before, but she says it in a way that seems fresh. Maybe it's her candid, tell-it-like-it-is attitude or possibly it's the simple fact that she's a single mother relying on a motley crew of friends, a slightly dysfunctional family and a flailing, ragged kind of faith to get her through - whatever it is, her story strikes a chord. It's engaging, entertaining and enlightening. Lamott's a little too honest at times, saying things all moms have probably thought at one time or another, but wouldn't dream of uttering out loud ("I was very rough changing him at 4:00 when he wouldn't stop crying. I totally understand child abuse now. I really do" [64]). Still, she comes off as an Everywoman, albeit a neurotic one.

While Lamott focuses on her experience with motherhood, that's not all she discusses in this very forthright memoir. She talks about her years as an alcoholic and drug addict; she talks about the fight to stay clean and sober; she talks about loneliness, depression and grief; she talks about the faith she found in a small, quirky black church in San Francisco; she talks about illness; she talks about healing; she talks about life. Through it all, she comes back to one simple fact: "He [Sam] is all I have ever wanted, and my heart is so huge with love that I feel like it is about to go off. At the same time I feel that he has completely ruined my life, because I just didn't used to care all that much" (60-61).

Like I said before, Lamott gets a little too frank at times (I really didn't need to know every time she felt like having sex), but that's also part of her charm. She says things others would never dare to, which makes reading her book an eye-opening, intimate experience. And while I appreciate that about her, I think her constant neediness and ever-present anxiety would drive me crazy in real life. It certainly does in Operating Instructions. Still, I found Lamott to be a funny, sympathetic narrator with an engrossing tale to tell. I wasn't sure I would, but I enjoyed this little sojourn into her sleep-deprived, colic-crazy, baby-dazed head. It made me feel much more normal. And that's always a plus.

(Readalikes: Some Assembly Required: A Journal of My Son's First Son by Anne Lamott)

Grade: B

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for strong language and fairly graphic sexual content

To the FTC, with love: I bought Operating Instructions from Amazon with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger. Ha ha.

Saturday, November 05, 2011

Raising Spoiled, Lazy, Irresponsible Children? Parenting Experts Teach How to Stop Pushing Them Into The Entitlement Trap.

(Image from Barnes & Noble)

  • Your college-age daughter insists on living in an expensive off-campus apartment because the dorms are "totally tacky." She's "concentrating on her studies," not working, and expects you to pay her rent every month.
  • Your teenage son whines and begs for every new gadget that comes out. When you insist he pay for them himself, he huffs, "My friends' parents just buy them stuff. Why are you so mean?"
  • A new employee at your company demands a raise, even though he's only been working there for a couple months and hasn't done anything more than his job requires. He says he deserves more money because he's got a college degree and a family to feed.
  • You notice on Facebook that the couple that rents a home from you just got back from a 2-week European cruise and bought a shiny new sports car - even though they're several months behind on the rent.
  • Your kids tear through a mountain of presents on Christmas, barely pausing to look at the expensive gifts you've bought them. When the last box is open, they demand, "Is that it? Where's the new iPod/XBox/bicycle/designer jeans I wanted?"

Do any of these scenarios sound familiar to you? If they do, you probably know a little something about entitlement. Even if you've never heard the term, you've seen the problem in action. All of us have witnessed spoiled children whining for toys in a department store or bratty teenagers insisting their parents buy them designer clothes, but what about overindulged young adults who haven't learned how to work or wait for something they want? Or pampered wives who harp on their husbands to spend longer hours at the office so they can cruise to their weekly nail appointments in a fancier car than their friend's? The problem - nay, the disease - is everywhere.

In their new book The Entitlement Trap: How to Rescue Your Child with a New Family System of Choosing, Earning, and Ownership, parenting experts Richard and Linda Eyre address entitlement, a crisis they say "may be the key problem of our age" (23). They believe that, like so many things, the trouble begins with good intentions. Parents want to give their children everything, especially if they, themselves, grew up without such luxuries. While there's nothing wrong with providing one's family with life's little pleasures, the danger comes when children are given so much that they grow up believing they deserve everything they want - without having to work for it, without having to wait for it, without having to earn it. According to the Eyres, "Entitlement is a double-edged sword (or a double-jawed trap) for kids. On one edge it gives kids all that they don't need - indulgence, dullness, conceit, and laziness; and on the backswing, it takes from them everything they do need - motivation, independence, inventiveness, pride, responsibility, and a chance to really work for things and build their own sense of fulfillment and self-esteem" (5)

No loving parent wants to raise a selfish, unmotivated child, but for some, it may already be too late. Right? No, according to the Eyres, who insist, "It's best to start early, but it's never too late" (37). To help kids learn how to effectively handle their money, the Eyres advise creating a "family economy," or a system which allows children to earn, save, and spend money in a safe environment where the consequences are less damaging than those incurred in the real world. They give a detailed explanation of the system they've used with successful results. Giving children ownership of their money, say the Eyres, helps them to learn about responsibility, success, disappointment, even charity. Parents are counseled to let the children make mistakes within this faux economy, to avoid bailing them out, in order to teach kids about disappointment and other natural consequences of poor money management. If children grow up thinking about money in these terms, it will make all the difference when it comes time for them to find jobs, pay their own rent, buy homes/cars/etc. and support their families.

In the second half of The Entitlement Trap, the Eyres apply the same principle to teaching children values. If, the authors say, a child learns to take ownership of her own choices, her own morals, her own beliefs, then she's more likely to make wise and healthy decisions. By dealing with the consequences of the choices she makes - be they good or ill - the child learns about personal responsibility. She learns to trust herself, to avoid blaming others or making excuses for her own messes, and to deal with her own problems rather than leaning on someone else to bail her out.

While I think teaching children values is more important than teaching them about money, I still found the first half of this book most helpful. The Eyres' system makes sense to me, more sense than other methods I've tried with my kids. With their detailed, but no-nonsense approach, the authors give parents a system that is smart, workable, and proven. While it definitely requires commitment, the family economy seems very doable. The values-teaching part of the book seemed to have less concrete methods, although I still found the Eyres' suggestions helpful. I've pondered how to keep my children out of the entitlement trap, but I've never read a book on the subject. This one is honest, timely, and, most of all, hopeful. Bottom line: Read it.

(Readalikes: Hm, I don't read a lot of these kinds of books. Suggestions?)

Grade: B

If this were a movie, it would be rated: G

To the FTC, with love: I received an ARC of The Entitlement Trap from the generous folks at Laura Rossi Public Relations. Thank you! Please note that all quotes were taken from uncorrected proofs and may have been altered in the final version of the book.

Monday, July 11, 2011

6 American Jews + 1 Abandoned Bulgarian + 4 Ethiopian Orphans = A Family??

(Image from Indiebound)
What do you get when you mix six white American Jews with an abandoned Bulgarian boy and four Ethiopian orphans? Chaos, for starters. Eventually, though, you get a family. The Greene-Samuel Family of Atlanta, Georgia, to be exact. How did these 11 people meld different backgrounds, different personalities, and different expectations into one happy, workable unit? That's the question Melissa Fay Greene tackles in her parenting memoir No Biking in the House Without A Helmet. With trademark humor, the journalist describes the tumultuous blending of cultures that rocked her household when she and her husband, already the parents of four, decided to adopt five more children.
Quick to eschew so-called "adoption addicts," Greene insists, "Donny and I have steered by the light of what brings us joy, what makes us laugh, and what feels right and true" (7). That inspiration led them to orphanages in both Bulgaria and Ethiopia, where they found, among vast numbers of needy children, the five destined to become their own. But, as Greene soon discovered

Adoption seems so theoretical, and fun, until you realize you will have to put one foot in front of the other in real time, through actual streets of a city with an impossibly exotic name, on a continent you've never been to, surrounded by people rapidly speaking in many languages of which you will understand not one word - all with the goal of bringing back a traumatized young human being from very far away to your everyday midtown American life (120).
The reality involved yanking terrified children away from everything familiar, shoving them into a blinding new world full of unimaginable sights and sounds, overwhelming their palates with rich, foreign foods, and trying to convince them that the brutal, survival-of-the-fittest mentality by which they'd been governing their lives no longer applied. And that was just the first week. Each time Greene added another child to the mix, she found herself dealing with everything from bouts of post-adoption depression to frustration over her inability to communicate with her non-English speaking children to fear that the new siblings would kill each other long before they had a chance to bond. Through it all, the Greene-Samuels relied on their faith, their senses of humor and, most of all, each other, to turn their mismatched crew into a family.
Maybe I'm just predisposed to like adoption stories, but I found this one compelling on a lot of different levels. I enjoyed Greene's wry take on life, her honesty, and the compassion with which she tells the stories of her children. It's impossible not to laugh with her, empathize with her, and appreciate her determination to create a strong, nurturing family out of eleven very different people. Although there were certain ideas I wish Greene had explored more in the book, overall, I found it both informative and entertaining. No Biking in the House Without A Helmet is a book for all parents and all families - no matter how they were formed.
(Readalikes: Um, Jacquelyn Mitchard called the book "Cheaper By the Dozen for a new planet," which I think describes it very well.)
Grade: B-
If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for strong language (a handful of F-bombs, plus infrequent use of milder invectives) and a small amount of crude humor
To the FTC, with love: Another library fine find
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