Your mother's Snow White?
Not hardly. The language sings;
the plot feels cluttered.
Fairest by Gail Carson Levine. Harper, 2007, 326 pages.
Your mother's Snow White?
Not hardly. The language sings;
the plot feels cluttered.
Fairest by Gail Carson Levine. Harper, 2007, 326 pages.
"You've told lies before,
haven't you?" But these girls learn:
Consequences hurt.
Harmless by Dana Reinhardt. Lamb/Random, 2007, 229 pages.
I asked for it, I got it.
The universal questions:
1. What’s your favorite quote?
"Let me play the lion too."
There's a scene in A Midsummer Night's Dream where Peter Quince is assigning roles in the mechanicals' play, and Bottom keeps butting in, wanting to play every part -- including the lion, in this case. I have a bad habit of taking on too much and wanting to be all things to all people, so sometimes I need to remind myself that I don't have to be the lion, too.
Runner-up: "This too shall pass." Just as applicable when the children are sleeping angelically as when they're burning down the house.
2. How would you spend $1,500 that you won in a radio contest?
If I'm thinking short-term, I'd buy a kickass new laptop. If I'm thinking long-term, I'd stash it in my (as-yet-nonexistent) Going Back to Grad School Fund.
3. Where do you like to go to get away from it all?
The library. I just wish I could go there by myself more often (and not be on the clock). I also have a weakness for The Coffee Store, as we call it in my house. (Munchkin, spelling: "S-T-A-R-B-U-C-K-S. Coffee store!")
4. If you had the complete attention of everyone in the United States, but only for thirty seconds, what would you say?
"It's Feb-ROO-ary, nuke-LEE-er, and jew-EL-ry, people."
The personal question:
5. How are things going with the new baby and another little one at home?
It's more manageable than I thought, actually -- mostly because (knock knock knock on wood) the Munchkin seems to be entering a slightly more mature, slightly less infuriating stage, and because (KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK) Baby John is a wicked good sleeper. Also because I have reached a detente with the television set.
I love watching the two of them interact: her smothering him (literally) with love, and him staring in wonder at this loud, fascinating, possibly dangerous creature who keeps poking him. I also benefit from my longstanding position as Slag-Ass Mommy, so the little things (matching clothes, dry diapers, reasonably nutritious and varied food options) don't tend to concern me much. If the children are still alive by the end of the day, I've done my job.