"I want to tell you a story," she says.
"Okay, sweetie, tell me," I say.
"Once there was a wolf named Jabber, and he was walking in the forest, and he was looking for his mother and his father. And then, there was something IN the forest."
"What was in the forest?"
"It was a stegosaurus!"


"A stegosaurus?"
"Yes! And he ate him in his mouth."
"Oh no!"
"But then, he got out of his mouth."
"That's good."
"And then...he was HOME." She pauses, then gives a triumphant smile, knowing she has fully captivated her audience. "The End," she says.

I always use them. Always. Even when we are just going around the corner to Beth's school. And I make them all buckle up, every time.

When we were brand-new parents, Eric spent about an hour installing the infant-seat base in the back of our Honda Accord, and when he and his brother were on a road trip and his brother wanted to recline the passenger seat all the way back so he could sleep in a more comfortable position, Eric refused to move the car seat base because he was so adamant about keeping that seat in the exact, perfect, SAFEST position for our little girl.

And so yes, I am a faithful user of car seats. But at the same time, I have to admit I'm starting to get kind of tired of them. And of all the constant rules, and revisions to rules, in the name of keeping our kids safer and safer and safer. It's starting to get a little ridiculous.


Have you heard that in Europe, studies have shown that riding in rear-facing seats would be beneficial up to age 4? And that the U.S. National Highway Traffic Safety Administration actually recommends that kids stay in booster seats until they are 8 years old? And also that no kid should ever ride in the front seat of a car, even with a seat belt on, until they are 4-foot-9?

Four-foot-nine? I know adult women who are only 4-foot-11 or so! Are they supposed to sit in the back in a safety seat? My kids might not be that tall until they are 11 or 12. Am I supposed to keep them in the back until then?

When I was a kid, a sedan with a front seat (bench or bucket) and a back seat (three seat belts across) was the normal car for most average-size families with two or three kids. Now, you can't hardly find a parent anywhere driving anything but an SUV or a minivan. Why? Car seats. If you've got three kids age 8 and under, you've got three seats of some sort that have to all fit across that back seat. And fitting three car seats in there and getting them appropriately buckled is a tight, tight squeeze. Most parents don't even try. If you ever want to drive a carpool or give a friend a ride home from soccer practice, you're completely out of luck, even with that empty seat up front next to mom. So instead, we have four-person families driving around in half-empty minivans and SUVs because car seats make it so inconvenient to do anything else.

The NHTSA's website says that "an estimated 8,959 lives were saved from 1975-2008 by child restraints." However when you actually go through and read the .pdf document that figure comes from, you see the note in parentheses: "From 1975 through 2008, an estimated 8,959 lives were saved by child restraints (child safety seats or adult seat belts)." (emphasis mine) Soooo.... it's actually regular seat belts and/or child safety seats combined? Do they have any statistics that break it out with just car seats? Are the ever-increasing car seat rules really what's keeping people safer, or is it that seat belt use in general is higher than it used to be, combined with safer cars and better air bags?

As I've said before, I follow all the parenting rules and recommendations. We vaccinate, even when it causes unpleasant side effects. We use car seats religiously, even though it means we drive a bigger car than we might have if we lived a generation ago. We would never do anything to compromise our kids' safety. I'm certainly not going to throw my kids' car seats away, nor am I suggesting a conspiracy theory: government in league with evil car seat manufacturers! No, that's not me. Does this rant even have a point? I'm not sure.

Mostly, it's just that I can't help thinking back to my own childhood, when we certainly did wear seat-belts all the time, but we didn't think it was necessary to harness a 5-year-old into a cocoon for a trip to the grocery store, and something simple like getting a ride with a friend didn't require a complicated calculation about how many seats were available and whether Mom 1 could loan Mom 2 an extra booster seat for her grade-schooler. I wish I could still do that without feeling that I was somehow putting our kids' lives at risk the entire time.

Do you ever get in a spot where you feel like your attention is needed in so many different directions, that the equal but opposing forces actually create this kind of tense equilibrium? And rather than going anywhere, you find yourself paralyzed, not moving in any direction at all?

Perhaps not. Perhaps you are all people of action, people who never find themselves mindlessly clicking on Facebook, or deciding to try and match up the mis-matched socks, or some other idiotic task, even while your mind is whirring away, chattering internally about all the things your really need to get done.

For me, I'm having a bit of a mental shut-down here this afternoon, and can't even bring myself to finish the quasi-interesting blog post I have half-written. So what you get today is this, a plea for help: how do you get yourself motivated when you have an afternoon chock-full of tasks and no desire to do any of them?

1. I'm going to my first-ever yoga class tomorrow, with my sister. It's at this cute new-ish yoga studio downtown, Love Yoga. And I'm excited about the whole thing--should be fun, nice to get some exercise, the studio looks cool--but I have to admit I'm a bit nervous about looking like a dork. I normally do yoga at home, in my sweatpants, with a video. No actual teacher, no mirror so I can check out how I'm doing, and so I have no idea how well I'm actually mimicking what the leader is doing in the video. I am not the most flexible person, nor do I have good balance (though my at-home yoga has improved both those things, I think). And when you're doing a type of exercise where the *goal* is actually to stick your butt way up in the air like this, I think looking like a dork may just be a given.


2. Tonight is hot dog night. This may not sound like a big deal to you, but it is for me. Here's why: Long ago, when I had no kids yet but some of my friends did, my dear friend Connie told me about hot dog night. The idea is: you feed the kids hot dogs, let them watch a movie, generally just make them super happy and then put them to bed early. Then, after the kids are in bed, the real fun begins. A fancy, home-made, grown-ups only dinner and some wine for Mom and Dad. We kind of wanted to go out for a date, but we hadn't planned in advance for a babysitter, and even if we just went out for dinner and came straight home, it would be $30 for dinner and another $20 or $30 for a babysitter. It adds up fast. A package of hot dogs and a bottle of wine from the grocery store = significantly easier on the pocket book. But I'm just as excited about it!

3. My daffodils and tulips and bluebells are all poking their green stems above the ground. On these rainy, grey, dreary and cold days we've been having, it sometimes feels like spring will never come. But the flowers know better.

4. I've signed up for the Corvallis Half-Marathon in April, but other than that it's the only race I've got going on this year. I am not sure I really want to do a marathon again this year, and we're not signed up for Hood to Coast, either. A friend of mine wants to do the Warrior Dash, but I'm like: jump over fire? Are you crazy? I'd like to have some other challenges for myself this year, though, because I've found that I stick with my exercise the best when I have some event coming up that I am committed to. Ideas, anyone?

5. Today my silly 2-year-old came up to me and said, with a big sigh: "I miss my crib."

So, I pulled out the Pack N Play for her, set it up in the living room, and stuck her in it. She played there with her stuffed animals contentedly for more than half an hour.

When a 2-year-old voluntarily asks to be confined into a small space that she can't get out of...you go with it. You just go with it.

6. My 4-year-old received a marshmallow at school today. They've been doing letter M all week, and today they had mm-mm-mmarshmallows to cap the whole thing off. But she was so disgusted by it that she wouldn't touch it, and her teacher put it in a bag for her and she brought it home to give to Evie.

Why was she so horrified? Because marshmallows bring back memories of the Great Camping Puke-Fest of '10. Neither Beth nor Lucy have been able to look at a marshmallow without gagging ever since that night. None of us will ever forget it. It will live on in family legend (and eating preferences) forever.

7. Books: Still working on Snow Falling on Cedars, and ordered Manhunt off Amazon today. Reading list 2011, I will conquer you!

For more quick takes, check out Conversion Diary.

6:35 a.m. She comes out in her Lightning The Queen footie pajamas, dragging an armload of stuff: her blankie, her new baby doll, Diamond, and Diamond’s blankie as well.
“Goo’ mornin’, mama,” she says, dropping the pile on the floor and snuggling into my arms. After a moment of cuddling, she looks down at her belongings. “Diamond was cryin' in the morning,” she says.
"So that's why you had to get up? To take care of your baby?" I say.  "Yep," she says. "You're a good mama," I tell her. I don't mention that dropping your baby on the floor is not necessarily an acceptable parenting method.
I ask her what she wants for breakfast, and she requests apples and peanut butter. That's more of an after-school snack than a breakfast, to my mind, but there's nothing wrong with it if that's what she wants, so I get up from my morning coffee and newspaper, and start slicing apples.
She follows me into the kitchen. "And maca-oni and cheese," she says. "For breakfiss."
Apples and peanut butter are one thing, mac & cheese at 6:30 a.m. is another. I tell her I'm not making macaroni and cheese for breakfiss, and she contents herself with the apples.
As she finishes up, she swipes the bowl with her finger, wiping up the last bits of peanut butter and licking them off.
"Do you care if I do it like this?" she asks.
I suppose I should care--it's not very good table manners to lick your bowl, or your fingers, but at 6:30 a.m. I don't. "No, I don't care," I tell her, so she continues.

8 a.m. She runs out of her room stark naked. "Naked baby!" I shout. "Naked Evie!" she giggles. I hadn't told her to get dressed yet, but she must have decided it was time, and got started herself. The getting clothes off part she's pretty good at. Getting them back on, not so much.

8:20 a.m. Evie, to Lucy: "Let's play CareBears!"
"OK," Lucy says. "You be No-heart! You have to go like this!" and she throws back her head and cackles, a perfect villainous laugh.
"Ah ha ha ha ha!" Evie copies her, and they go off together, laughing evilly all the way.

8:30 a.m., and they're still playing CareBears, although Evie is now, apparently, the foolish henchman Beastly, instead of the arch-nemesis No-heart.
"Evie, you need your coat on," I tell her.
"No, I'm Beastly," she says, glaring at me, not making a move for the coat.
"Beastly, get your coat on," I say.
"OK, mama," she says, smiling sweetly and complying.

9:10 a.m., we're back from school and cleaning the playroom. What's more, Evie is actually helping for once. We clear away a pile, and Evie finds a prized possession.
"Oh, I was looking for you, Magna-Doodle!" she says, and kisses it loudly all over.

9:15 a.m.--potty time. Evie cheers and claps for herself when she does her business. "Yay, Evie! Good girl!"

 10:15 a.m., she wanders into the kitchen. "I hungwy and firsty," she says, "Can I have maca-oni and cheese?" I placate her with a banana and a glass of water instead.


10:46 a.m. It's a dance party in the living room--Evie is singing a nonsense song and they're both rocking out: "Ah, ah ah, oh, doodee lee hee haw, doodee lee hee haaaaaawwwww!"


 10:52 a.m. Tears from the living room. She runs in to the office. "I don't want Lucy to pway this game!" she says. 
"Then go play somewhere else," I say. 
"NO!" she says. 
"Then go to your room," I say. 
She runs out. A moment later, a scream from Lucy.
"What happened?" I ask.
"She just hit me in the stomach!" Lucy says.
 There are consequences for her action. There are tears. At the end of it she is sitting on her bed, clutching her blankie and sobbing.

 11 a.m. Tears have subsided. When I go in to talk to her about what she did wrong and why she was punished, she's sitting on her bed and singing again.


Noon. It's finally maca-oni and cheese time. However, there is a problem when they discover that I’ve purchased "shells and white cheddar style" instead of regular macaroni noodles. I try to assure them it will taste exactly the same. They open the box, examine the shells, feel them in their hands, and then eat the dry, hard noodles. Lucy says she does not like them and opts for bread and jam. Evie says she does like them, so I put them in the pot to boil. While they are boiling, she comes up and tells me she doesn’t like them after all.

I haven't said anything about it. Not for months and months. I've been living in fear, worried that my good fortune was just too good to last, terrified that the wrong word might earn me the wrath of the poop fates.

But I can't hold it back any longer.

Evie is not wearing diapers any more. Do you realize what this means?

My children are all potty-trained.

My children are all potty-trained.

My children are ALL POTTY-TRAINED!

I haven't changed a poopy diaper in weeks. I have no use for the four half-used tubes of Boudreaux's Butt Paste that I still have sitting around the house. I no longer have wipes stashed in my purse, in the car, in the bedroom, and in the bathroom.

My diaper bag? The beautiful but bulky thing that was my closest companion, that I never went anywhere without?



It's just sitting around, all flat and lifeless and empty, but I can't quite bring myself to part with it yet. It was a gift from a dear friend, and glad as I am to be rid of its extra weight (it seriously was heavy) I can't really say good-bye.

It's not just the physical weight of the diaper bag pulling on my shoulder--it's the metaphorical weight of baby care that needing to own a diaper bag represents. When they're infants, babies need you so much. The silly little things can't even lift their head up on their own, much less do anything at all themselves. You have to feed them, dress them, comfort them, carry them, and, multiple times a day,  you have to wipe their nasty little bottoms. You need all your supplies with which to carry out these tasks near at hand at all times. You need that diaper bag.

And now, I don't need it. Not any of it, at all.

Oh, I still help Evie, of course. I help her get dressed, I help her put on certain pairs of shoes. She can't zip her own coat very well. I buckle her in her car seat.  I carry a change of clothes in the car in case of accidents. She thinks she can do a competent job of brushing her teeth on her own, but I think otherwise.  For the most part though, like her sisters before her, she is an intelligent and independent child, and she prefers to do as much as possible herself. When she does need help with cutting up a waffle, pouring milk, or reading a story, she requests it in a complete sentence. And so my littlest baby is not really so much of a baby anymore.

This is the golden moment, the day I thought would never come, the dream I've been waiting for, waiting for all these years. Do you know how long it's been since I went more than a day or two without changing a diaper? Years, people. Years of my life I spent changing diapers every single day.

And now I don't. Poof. Just like that. No more diapers, no more babies. End of an era.

OK, so it wasn't really "poof, just like that." It was an arduous, months-long struggle that I whined about quite a lot. But now it's all behind me and it's gone from being this all-consuming thing to something that I hardly ever think about anymore. And when I do stop to think about it, when I decide it's all right to finally officially commemorate it, all I can do is wonder how in the world it's all gone by so fast.


*Note: Not that I am not happy about it. I am happy. So very, very happy.

 It is with much happiness that I hereby announce the official Jen's Reading List for 2011. This makes me happy on so many levels. I love books. I love lists. I love having a plan and being intentional about what I read. And yet I'm too scatterbrained to stick to a precise schedule. So while this list does include what I hope to read this year, it is not an *ordered* list--that is, I am not (necessarily) going to proceed directly from No. 1 to No. 2, and so on.

I've got some recent novels, some old classics, some fiction, some nonfiction, some that I think will be easy reads and some more challenging. And, if you'll notice, I've left off at 20 titles--that's because I know my book group that nominates titles month-to-month will be reading another 10 books or so this year, so I've left myself room for those. If I make it through everything on the list, I'll beat my number of 29* for last year and end up with 30 reads this year. And I secretly love beating people, even if it is just myself.

Thanks to those who left me suggestions--I've included several of them in my list. I think this is going to be a great reading year, folks.

Without further ado, here it is:

1. Zeitoun, Dave Eggers. A true story of one family experience in Hurricane Katrina. A startling story--I'm almost done with it already.

2. Manhunt, James L. Swanson. 

3. A Reliable Wife, Goolrick. 

4. Bringing up Geeks, Marybeth Hicks.

5. Remarkable Creatures, Tracy Chevalier. 

 6. The Shadow of the Wind, Zafon. 

 7. The Indifferent Stars Above, Brown.

 8. Mapp and Lucia, E.F. Benson

9. Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh


 10. Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, Chua


 11. The Sound and the Fury, Faulkner

12. Snow Falling on Cedars, Guterson. I got this one at a Christmas party and have started reading it as well. It's a courtroom drama, a murder mystery, and the story of the treatment of Japanese-Americans during and after WWII. Very good so far.

 13. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, Larsson


 14. Dating Jesus, Campbell


15. Take This Bread, Miles


16. Gentlemen of the Road, Chabon


17. The Opposite of Fate, Amy Tan

18. One of the Jeeves books, Wodehouse

19. Fragile Things, Gaiman. A collection of short stories by Gaiman that I bought for my husband, but have read a bit of myself as well. So far, it fits well with Gaiman's other works: creepy, inventive, intriguing.


20. Night, Elie Wiesel

Plus: 10 yet-to-be-determined picks from my book group.

Check back with me in a year, and I'll let you know how it goes. (Or, you know, sooner than that if you want, since I do like getting blog readers more than once a year).


* OK, so I just went back and looked at my last post and realized last year's number was 28, not 29. So I only have to add 9 more to my 20 titles to beat my 2010 self.

A year ago I resolved to be more intentional about my reading. I made up a list of all the books I was going to read for the whole year, and I blogged about it and everything. Blogging about it makes it official.

Well, it's been a year. Obviously it's time to check in. How did Jen do on her 2010 reading assignments? Let's find out.




Here was my list:

1. The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini. Read it, discussed it at book group. Not on my favorites list but a worthy read.

2. Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert. Read it--a nice, light fun read. A chatty travelogue. Didn't care enough about it to go see the movie though.

3. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society, Shaffer and Burrows. Really enjoyed it! A sweet tale about a community banding together during WWII.

4. The Help, Stockett. Maybe my favorite read of the whole year. Tells the tale of four women in Mississippi during the early days of the civil rights movement. Engaging, funny, thought-provoking.

5. Humble Boy, Jones. Didn't read it.

6. Columbine, Cullen. Didn't read it.

7. Angry Conversations with God, Isaacs. Didn't read it.

8. One or more of the Jeeves books by P.G. Wodehouse. Didn't read it.

9. Churched, Turner. Didn't read it.

10. The First Law trilogy by Joe Abercrombie. Read the first one (The Blade Itself) and liked it, but didn't love it. It's what I'd think of as a "masculine" fantasy. More swordfights and action than fairies and princesses. Haven't gotten to the next two books.

11. Crazy for God, Schaeffer. Didn't read it.

12. Founding Brothers, Ellis. Didn't read it. Heard from some others that it turned out to be very boring, so now I don't feel bad.

13. Welcome to the Departure Lounge, Meg Gederico. A bittersweet and humorous memoir about a woman coping with her aging parents. Enjoyed it.

14. Precious Bane, Mary Webb. An old book, about a woman growing up in a poor town in England who has a cleft lip (which at that time and place was often considered to be a mark of the devil). Good enough to keep my interest, but I wouldn't put it down as a favorite. The slow-paced and wordy writing style is true to the time it was written, but can be a somewhat jarring change of pace for modern readers used to fast, plot-driven books.

15. Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, Barbara Kingsolver (already a favorite of mine, but I'll probably read it again). I don't think I did read it again. Still a favorite.

16. The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse, Louise Erdrich. A strange tale of a female priest on an Indian reservation in the early part of the 20th century. This one gets an OK from me. I read it all the way through, but it could have used some more character development.

17. The Yiddish Policemen's Union, Michael Chabon. I love Michael Chabon. His books are completely original and I always enjoy them. This is a noir detective story set in an imagined reality where the Jewish home state was established not in their Middle Eastern homeland, but in...Alaska.

18. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Steig Larsson. An intelligent thriller, worthy of all the hype it's gotten, I think, but with some graphic content not everyone will enjoy.

19. Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, David Sedaris. Funny, wry, as Sedaris always is; but more personal than some of his other story collections, with some very sad parts as well.

20. The Book Thief, Markus Zusak. Fantastic! It's a story of the Holocaust, but written from an unusual perspective and in an unusual way. Parts of it are in a very lyrical writing style that actually distracted and annoyed me a bit, but that's a minor quibble. I'd definitely recommend it.

21. The Seduction of Water, Carol Goodman. An interesting tale about a woman unraveling the secrets about her dead mother's past. I enjoyed it, but it won't go on my "greatest books" list.

22. The Sound and the Fury, Faulkner. Yeah, still haven't read it. Still would like to.

23. Gentlemen of the Road, Michael Chabon. And again! Why have I not read this one, since I like Chabon so much? And I actually have it on my shelf, since my husband (I think) bought it one time. Need to read it this year.

My score: 11.5 out of 23. Bad! Very bad, if you're scoring me based on reading everything on my list. That's only about 50 percent. I get an F.

However, let me plead my case a little. That list doesn't tell the whole story. I am in two book groups, one of which plans out all its reading a year in advance (and thus all those books were on my 2010 list) and one of which doesn't. So I did read lots of other books...just not the ones on my list.

Here's what else I read this year:

12. Inkheart, by Cornelia Funke. A kids' book about a girl whose father has the talent to bring characters in books to life with his golden voice. Sound great? Not as great as you might think, as the girl finds out. A good middle-grade kids' read, I'd say.

13. Odd and the Frost Giants, Gaiman. I really like Neil Gaiman. His fantasies are a little dark, a little creepy. This one, though, was a kids' book from him that seemed lesser than his other efforts. It didn't stick with me much at all.

14. The Girl Who Played with Fire, Larsson. Sequel to the "Dragon Tattoo." Continues the interesting tale of Lisbeth Salander, one of the most unusual heroines in modern literature.  That reminds me...I ought to get my hands on the third one and find out what ever happened to Lisbeth.

15. A Painted House, John Grisham. I think John Grisham is a better writer than people give him credit for. I liked this story about a farm boy growing up in the South in the 50s. I loved the descriptions of the way things were then--you could tell it was real, that either Grisham's own relatives or people he know had probably had lives like this. But I didn't like the ending. It didn't feel like there was an
ending. Instead of wrapping things up, it just kind of trailed off. I finished it not quite satisfied.

16. Nurtureshock, Bronson and Merryman. A *very* interesting collection of research surrounding parenting, and the truths that parents believe about raising kids that aren't true at all. I'd recommend it to any parent, or to people who like well-written, well-researched nonfiction.


17. The Dark Tower I, Steven King. Another popular author who gets a bad rap in literary circles. Roland and his quest and the boy he meets were a good tale...though not good enough to make me go out and find the next six books in this series and read them right away. Though I would like to eventually.

18. American Gods, Gaiman. Another dark fantasy--though this is really almost magical realism, not fantasy. Everything in this book seems like it could really happen...if all the ancient mythological gods actually existed and were still intervening in human affairs. I liked the blending of myth and reality, and the reminder that in classical mythology, a lot of the gods were really not that nice. Also an interesting perspective on what our modern "gods" are.

19. Manhood for Amateurs, Chabon. A very honest parenting memoir. Some of his sentences rung so true with me--his description of the casual sympathy he fakes when his toddler comes up to him crying over yet another boo-boo is so spot-on--that probes not just the daily life of parenting, but the way it changes you as a person, too. He and his wife's choices about certain things are different than mine, but there are some things about parenting that are just universal and put you all together in the same big boat.

20. East of Eden, John Steinbeck. Everything else I've read or attempted to read by Steinbeck I found very disappointing. Maybe I'm just too low-brow for a literary giant like Steinbeck, I thought. But I actually liked this book. Is it terrible to say that I found Cathy, the evil villain, to be the best character?


21. The Tangible Kingdom, Halter. A great book about the nature of the modern evangelical church, and ideas about what Christianity should or could look like in today's world. I thought his criticisms were spot-on, but his solutions were vague and seemed a little too simple. I don't think he was trying to write a how-to manual, though, so I won't hold that against him.


22. The Adoration of Jenna Fox, Pearson. Thoroughly enjoyed this thought-provoking novel about bio-ethics. How far should medicine really go to save a life? What is it about a person that makes each soul a unique human? Pearson will get you pondering these things.

23. The Mockingjay trilogy, Collins. Loved "The Hunger Games," liked "Catching Fire," was disappointed in the conclusion, "Mockingjay." Although I don't have a better idea about how *I* would have ended it.

24. One Day, Nichols. Really liked this intelligent romance novel about a couple whose paths cross over the years. Their friendship and the way their relationship morphed over time was very realistic, and it had fun flashes of humor throughout. At first I thought the one-day story-telling device (the chronology advances a year at a time, checking in with the characters on June 15th of each year) was gimmicky--and maybe it is--but I got over it.

25. Star Island, Hiasson. Would not recommend this one about a trashy Hollywood starlet and her downfall.


26. First Comes Love, then Comes Malaria, Brown-Waite. Written in a funny, chatty, self-deprecating style, this is a memoir of the author's experiences in the Peace Corps. It sort of made me want to join the Peace Corps. A good read.


27. The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Barbery. I had heard such good things about this book and then I really didn't like it at all. The point was supposed to be anti-elitist, that even a low-level household servant can be an intelligent, elegant woman; and yet I sort of felt like the protagonists were all snobbish in a different way. Like no one is good enough for them unless they enjoy Japanese cinema and other high-brow culture. Plus, I hated the ending.

28. Freedom, Jonathan Franzen. I feel like I really can't recommend this book because there was certain content in one or two spots that really crossed the lines of decency and good taste. That said: it was a good book. The characters weren't just realistic--they seemed real. Like I had known them, or people just like them. The book was very masterfully crafted, and though I am not sure I would call it the greatest novel of the century or whatever it's been hyped as, it was a very, very good book. I went into it kind of prepared to hate it, but I couldn't. It was nearly 600 pages long and I read it in a week. I really wanted to know what happened to these people.

So, there you go. I actually read 28 books this year. They may not have been the ones I set out to read, which kind of defeats the point of being intentional in my reading. So maybe I still get an F in that department. But, I did read a lot--2.3 per month! There was a time, when I was a child, when I would read that much in an afternoon. But since I no longer have the freedom to spend entire days lying in the couch, like I did when I was 12, I'm going to give myself at least an A for effort for making it through that many.

Next post...I'm going to make a list for 2011. Recommendation time! What have you read that absolutely needs to go on my list?

Please consider this long-delayed post your official guide to THE best Disneyland activities for a family with three little girls. Or, to be more specific, my personal favorites from our Disneyland trip with three little girls. The girls' favorites and Eric's would probably all differ from these. And actually, when we ask them about it, the girls' sometimes change from moment to moment, so this is all me.




1. Buzz Light Year AstroBlasters. This gets the No. 1 spot because the whole family really liked it--liked it so much, in fact, that it was one of the few rides we did more than one time during our three-day trip. On this ride, you sit in little cars outfitted with laser guns and shoot at targets affixed to Evil Emperor Zurg's forces as you lurch along. Totally fun, because not only do you have the fun of zipping along on a ride, and the fun of seeing scenes of your favorite characters, you also have the fun of shooting at stuff! The interactivity is a big plus. This is a really popular ride, but the first day we were there, it was rainy and there wasn't much of a line. The second day, we used FastPass, which is awesome, so once again there was minimal line waiting. Toy Story Mania over in California Adventure is very similar to this ride (but with virtual pop-guns instead of laser guns), but it is not making my list because it has no FastPass. We waited in line 45 minutes for that, which is just toooo long. Buzz Lightyear wins, hands down.

2. The fireworks show. We were there on the very last day of Disneyland's holiday celebration, which means we got to see all the Christmas decorations, the Christmas parade, and the "Believe in Holiday Magic" fireworks show.


Let me tell you, it was spectacular! Holiday music played on loudspeakers all over the park, and the colors and explosions of the fireworks were coordinated perfectly with the music--big, fast, booming colors during "Russian Dance" from The Nutcracker; dreamy, twinkly blue and silver stars during "Silent Night," and so on. It was hands down the best fireworks show I have ever seen. I feel sorry for my girls, for seeing it at such a young age, because no Fourth of July picnic fireworks will ever be good enough for them again.

3. The Mad Tea Party. I loved this because it was a classic Disneyland ride, one of the ones you always hear about and see when you're talking about Disneyland. Plus, it was one of the few rides where the whole family could be together--all poured into one teacup--rather than I with one or two girls in one seat, and Eric with the others in another seat.


The spinning faster-and-faster-and-faster was surprisingly fun, much more exciting than some of the other rides, where you just sit in a car and go along on a track and don't move much, like Alice in Wonderland or Pinocchio, but well within my kids' tolerance level for zoomy-ness. (Beth was scared to death of anything that flew up in the air or zoomed too fast. Lucy just wanted more and more action--I think she's going to be our rollercoaster queen. Evie did not express an opinion). If you get motion sickness easily, this may not be for you; the spinning certainly sends a jolt to your stomach. But I do not get motion sickness easily, and thus I thought it was fine family fun.

4. Random interactions with Disneyland characters and staff. First of all, nearly every person we met at Disney was amazingly helpful and friendly, even the people sweeping the streets and selling $4 churros from food carts. And we had plenty of photo ops with all the big names--Mickey and Minnie, the Princesses, and so on. But it was the unplanned interactions that were more fun and I think the girls will remember more. At one point, all the girls got their faces painted, and Lucy chose a kitty-cat face.


Not long after that, Cruella DeVille from 101 Dalmations stalked by, in full two-toned wig and fur coat. She spotted Lucy's face, looked right at her and said, "Meow, meow, little kitty!" in a haughty British accent, and kept on walking. Lucy has been talking about the fact that Cruella meowed at her for days. On the last day Gepetto from Pinocchio came over to visit with Evie while she picked out her Mickey Mouse ear hat, and on the same day the girls were invited by the captain of the Mark Twain steamboat to come ride with him in the wheelhouse and help steer the ship--something not every kid gets to do, and something I think they'll remember for a long time.


5. Lunch with the Princesses at Ariel's Grotto. This goes down at No. 5 for me, though my girls would probably put it way up at the top. This was a very highly anticipated event--the chance to actually *eat* with the *princesses,* and maybe that was why for me, it didn't quite live up to the expectations. Expectations (mine, anyway) were set just a tad too high. Dozens of little girls and parents are all seated in a big dining room, and princesses rotate through, stopping at each table for a photo op, before moving along.


Maybe it's because my girls tend to be tongue-tied in the presence of strangers, especially royalty, but none of the princesses actually interacted with the kids very much. They smiled, greeted the girls, posed for a photo, and then went on their way. Maybe if my girls had been more chatty, they would have been more chatty? Maybe it was because there were three girls all at one table--too much to try and talk to all of them? Maybe it was because we were at the end of the room, with only one table between us and the exit, and so the princesses kind of wanted to just get done and go take off their ball gowns? Another downer was that our food was awful--lukewarm meat and mushy vegetables--which wouldn't have been such a big deal if the whole thing hadn't been so extremely expensive. When you're paying that much for a lunch, you kind of assume it's going to be fantastic, and ours really wasn't.



But. What we were really paying for was the kids' delight, and though they may have been subdued during the event, they haven't shut up about it since. "We had lunch at Ariel's Grotto!" "We got to meet Ariel!" "Can I tell all my friends I had lunch at Ariel's Grotto?" It was way, way up there on their list of favorites, and since taking pleasure in your kids' pleasure is kind of the whole point of a Disney family trip, it definitely makes the list. Though I'm not sure I'd pay for it again, were we ever to do Disneyland again.

6. Mickey's Fun Wheel. This is a *giant* Ferris Wheel (150 feet high!) over at California Adventure, and again, it was one of the very most memorable rides for the kids, one of the things they keep talking about after the fact. We went at night, after we had dinner at the hotel and then came back to the park, and I would highly recommend the whole Paradise Pier area at night. All the rides are lighted up, glowing, and beautiful, and with the exception of "Toy Story Midway Mania," none of the rides were too long.

So Mickey's Fun Wheel is all glowing and spectacular at night, and then you get in an enclosed gondola (you can pick from either a stationary gondola, which we went for, or a swaying gondola that slides back and forth the entire time and looked kind of terrifying, actually, but I'm a big weeny). And then it's just a regular Ferris wheel ride--you go way, way, way up, and then down, and then around again--but it's so high, and the view is so incredible, that apparently it really stuck with the kids. Any time you ask Evie what her favorite was, she says "Mickey's Fun Wheel." Every time.



There was lots and lots more, and maybe I'm forgetting something awesome, but these are the things that seem to be sticking out in my memory the most, so they MUST be the best, right? Really, everything was fantastic. Magic Kingdom? For us, yes, it was.

So far at Disneyland we've visited with princesses and fairies, blasted laser guns at evil aliens, flown through the air on rocket ships and elephants. And that was just the first day. Really, so far it's been a total blast.

But here's the best thing about our vacation, hands-down: just all hanging out as a family.

When you're at home, there's always something to do. Even if you purposely take a day or two off to hang out, you've got the laundry piling up and the dishes in the sink,  and phone calls and e-mails, and on vacation there's none of that. (Well, ok, a little, since we obviously do have internet access at this hotel). But mostly, we're spending hours of each day in each other's company, far more than we normally do at home, and it's been great.

When we're at home, too, I find that if I spend the entire day hanging out with my kids without any relief from interaction with someone else--some down time, some alone time--I am drained and frankly tired of them at the end of the day. Not so at Disneyland.

Not that there haven't been moments of whininess or frustration, but overall--whether it's the influence of the Magic Kingdom, with its fantastic amounts of cleanliness and friendliness and overall cheerful efficiency, or pixie dust in the air, our absolute insistence on afternoon naps for everyone, every day--it's been a fabulous, fabulous trip, with the girls as perfectly behaved as a 2-year-old, a 4-year-old and a 6-year-old could be expected to be.

Mostly, I think that this trip facilities the opportunity for adults to just be kids again themselves, and the kids respond to that with sheer delight. Yes, Disneyland is shamelessly exploiting kids' fascination with movies and cartoons and trying to get us to buy them lots of plastic crap at every turn. But the place does it so cheerfully and perfectly and they're showing us such a great time that I don't even care. For us, for this trip, for right now, walking through those gates each day does feel like entering a magic kingdom, and I kind of don't really want to leave. You think maybe they won't notice if we just stay down here for about a year?

We might have to give that a try.

**A note: I tried to include some pictures of our Disney bliss, but blogger is having uploading problems right now, so you'll just have to image how cute we all are at Disneyland :)