Three Holiday Readalouds: The Children of Noisy Village, A Christmas Adventure, and The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

A couple of months ago, I planned out what I wanted to read to the boys during the month of December. It's nerdy, I know, but if you don't plan ahead, the holds don't come in on time and the month flies by, and you find yourself in January when holiday books just don't carry the same kind of magic. The only problem is, I was so busy planning what we were going to read in December, I kind of neglected queuing up any other books, so we may have a bit of a dry spell. We'll see if anything ends up under the tree tomorrow to fill the gap.

1. The Children of Noisy Village by Astrid Lindgren
This is probably the least Christmasy of the three, simply because only a portion of the story takes place at Christmastime rather than the whole thing.  (If you're looking for just a Christmas story, you could read just the five chapters or so that take place during the holidays or check out the excellent picture book, Christmas in Noisy Village, which involves the same families.)

Noisy Village isn't actually a village: it's three farms strung together in a row. There's North Farm, where Britta and Anna live, Middle Farm, where Karl, Bill, and Lisa live, and South Farm, where Olaf and his baby sister, Kerstin, live. The book chronicles some of their adventures during the course of a year, told through the eyes of Lisa.

This book is just charming and delightful in every way. You may have noticed that it's by the same author who wrote Pippi Longstocking, which we also loved. However, if Pippi was a bit too outrageous or spunky for you, Noisy Village would be an excellent alternative. While the children are by no means perfect angels (they dawdle coming home from school and tease one another and have little quarrels), their default is to be kind rather than mean and respectful rather than bratty.

The Christmas chapters are wonderful, and I was so glad we read it right now. There's a big snowstorm, ginger-snap baking, tree-cutting, traditions, gift-giving, and all sorts of descriptions that made my kids wild with anticipation for our own Christmas. I will  warn you that there's a one-sentence Santa-spoiler you might want to be aware of if you're not planning on answering any difficult questions. In Sweden, where the book takes place, a family member dresses up as Santa and hands out the presents, and Lisa admits that she used to think "there was a real Santa Claus, but [doesn't] think so anymore."

I just felt like Astrid Lindgren captured childhood so well. I loved the interactions between the boys and the girls, and there were several times when just the littlest thing would make my kids laugh out loud.This was one of my favorite paragraphs because its description of boys was just so spot on: "In the winter the boys usually throw snowballs at each other during recess. In the spring they shoot marbles, and the girls play hopscotch. When the boys have nothing else to do they fight, and during class they get into all kinds of mischief, whether it's winter or spring. Miss Johnson says she thinks there is something that makes boys' fingers itch so they can't help doing mischief."

If you're already a fan of Little House on the Prairie or Betsy-Tacy or All-of-a-Kind-Family, add this one to your list because it will fit right in.

2. Tumtum and Nutmeg: A Christmas Adventure by Emily Bearn
There are some stories I've been intending to read to my kids for a long time, and the adventures of Tumtum and Nutmeg are among them. It seemed like they kept popping up on various lists, and every time they made another appearance, I'd think, I have got to make those books a priority before my kids get too old for them.

When I realized one of the books was a Christmas story, I knew I'd finally make it happen because I take holiday reading very seriously and am always looking for books to fit into our December reading list.

Tumtum and Nutmeg Nutmouse are a darling mouse couple who live in Rose Cottage. As they're making preparations for the upcoming Christmas holiday, they can't help thinking about the two (human) children who live in the same house. They find their letters to Father Christmas and realize he never visited them last year because their chimney was all bricked up. The mice are determined to make this Christmas different from last year's even if it means getting the presents for the children themselves. They've asked for very simple things (a toy car for Arthur and a box of magic tricks for Lucy), and the Nutmouses happen to know that Baron Toymouse has an entire roomful of toys at Grimsby Hall.

Unfortunately, Baron Toymouse is selfish, childish, and extremely mean and not likely to feel generous toward two deprived children, which makes Tumtum and Nutmeg very nervous. Still, driven by the Christmas spirit, they decide to make the attempt.

The story was short and cute, and every chapter ended with a cliffhanger of some sort, so we got through it very quickly. Although we enjoyed it, I think we would have liked it even more if we'd already been acquainted with Tumtum and Nutmeg and some of their adventures. That said, I don't think the stories are necessarily chronological (although if any of you have read some of the others, please correct me), so maybe this was just as good as any of the others to start with. Out of the three books in this post, this one would appeal to the youngest audience for sure. Because of the length and all the illustrations, I think kids even as young as four-years-old would enjoy it.

3. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson
I didn't think I could love this book any more than I already did, but reading it to my kids bumped it up to a whole new level. The funny lines were funnier, the poignant parts were even sweeter, and basically, it was just what I needed to read this Christmas season.

There are six Herdman kids, each one worse than the last. Their father is in jail and their mom spends as many hours working as possible . . . and not just because they need the money. They swear and steal and manipulate and torment at every possible turn. The only reprieve anyone ever gets from them is on Sunday at church because no Herman has ever set foot inside a church before . . . that is, until Charlie opens his big mouth and says they get dessert during Sunday School (which is entirely untrue--he just says it to make Leroy Herdman jealous). But with that sort of incentive, the Herdmans think they might just give church a try as well.

They just happen to go on the Sunday right before Thanksgiving when announcements for the upcoming Christmas pageant are given, which intrigues them. And if there's one thing anyone has learned, it's that you don't argue with a Herdman, even if they want all the leads in the Christmas pageant but have never even heard of Jesus (except when they're taking His name in vain).

The book begins with the line, "The Herdmans were absolutely the worst kids in the history of the world." And as we made our way through the first chapter and we read about how they set fire to an old toolhouse and let loose their deranged cat during show-and-tell and memorized everyone's weight just to use as blackmail, my kids' jaws dropped little by little until they were convinced that it was true. The Herdmans really seemed like they must be the worst kids in the history of the world.

But it's kind of amazing how your perspective changes when you learn a little bit more of their story and also how opening your heart a little bit can add a new kind of depth and perspective to the Christmas story as well. The Herdmans have never heard of Mary or Joseph, so of course they're indignant when they learn that the inn was full and the only place for Mary to have her baby was in a stable. And they've never heard of the wise men or frankincense or myrrh, so of course a ham makes more sense as a gift. To strip down this holy and well-known story to its most basic components brings it to life in a new and vivid way. And seeing the Herdmans' reaction to it really exposes their hearts, which, believe it or not, they do in fact possess.

Part of our family scripture study during the month of December comes from Luke 2, and my kids' ears perked up more than usual when they heard familiar phrases, for example, "Mary . . . being great with child," and Max interjected, "You mean PREGNANT?!" Yes, they were maybe a little more irreverent, but they were also more focused and attentive, which seemed like a good tradeoff.

But speaking of irreverent, I was a little worried before starting it that the Herdmans might be a less-than-desirable example for my kids (and sometimes even the suggestion of something naughty can make it seem more appealing). But while I will admit to a little judicious editing, overall I kept the story intact because it's pretty much perfect, just the way it is.

And as we came to the end and then the very final line when Gladys Herdman yells out the words, "Hey! Unto you a child is born!" my voice caught and I couldn't choke them out. All of a sudden, they meant so much to me, those words, maybe more than they ever had before. "Unto you a child is born." Unto you. Of course that's news worth shouting. Again and again and again.

Did you read any fun holiday books with your kids this month? I'd love to hear about them! And I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas!

The Complicated Feelings That Come When You Find Out You're Expecting Your Fifth BOY

During the first half of my pregnancy, when the gender of our baby was still unknown, family and friends would often say things like, "Oh, I hope you get your girl this time!"

I know they meant it with the best of intentions and I love them for it, but such comments always made me slightly indignant, like, "Do they really think I'm having another baby just because I'm hoping for a girl?!"

The truth is, before we decided to have another baby, I had to think long and hard about whether or not I was actually okay with possibly adding a girl to our family. The thought literally terrified me. I love my four boys. I love the identity that having all one gender gives to our family. I love being able to streamline gift giving and event planning because their interests and needs are so similar. Basically, I'm just very, very comfortable being a mom of boys.

I've thought often about something my friend once told me. She has two boys and one girl, and she and her husband were contemplating having a fourth. She really, really wanted a sister for her little girl, and her husband said if they could guarantee a girl, then he'd be fine with it, too. But the thing is, you can't guarantee something like that (at least, not unless you want to spend a lot of money), and my friend said she realized she had to be okay with a girl or a boy. (The rest of the story: they decided to stick with three children rather than chance it.)

I found myself facing the same kind of decision before this pregnancy, and I think most people are surprised to learn that it was actually the idea of a girl, rather than another boy, that made me hesitant to have another baby. But eventually, I came to terms with the possibility.

I'm not the type of person to get any sort of premonition about the gender of the baby when I'm pregnant. I never have any dreams or get any sort of feeling. I just always think I'm having a boy because that's all I know. (Maybe if I ever do end up having a girl, my pregnancy will be so different, I'll just know it right from the start.)

Anyway, as the date of our 20-week ultrasound approached, I found myself clutching possessively at my all-boy card while at the same time entertaining a thought here and there about pink clothes and hair bows and mommy-daughter dates.

It was a strange bag of emotions, and I kept thinking about how grateful I was that the decision was beyond my control. I constantly felt the pressure to produce a girl, and I think if it had actually been up to me, I wouldn't have been able to separate what I wanted from the opinions of everyone around me.

Before the doctor began the ultrasound, she asked about our family and found out about our four boys. We told her we thought this baby was probably another boy but that we wouldn't be shedding any tears either way because we were perfectly content with either a boy or a girl. She began her methodical exam, starting with the placenta and cervix. As she made her way to the actual baby, the answer was right there, loud and clear.

"Well that's definitely a boy," she said. "I actually was pretty sure you were going to have a girl, but I was wrong."

And Mike and I both looked at each other and laughed. Five boys. Who would've ever thought?

I knew I would be happy and relieved and just so content if I found out we were having another boy. And I was. All of those emotions were there, front and center. What I was unprepared for were the other feelings that immediately crowded in and clamored for my attention.

The one word that best describes them is, ironically, loss.

Here I was, gaining another child and another son, and I felt an overwhelming sense of loss.

It's hard for me to comprehend, let alone explain, which I think is the reason I felt compelled to write about it. (And I should probably insert that I think my feelings would have been just as complicated if we'd found out we were having a girl, and there would have been a sense of loss with that as well.)

As Mike and I were sitting in the lobby waiting for the ultrasound DVD to copy, I leaned over and whispered, "I'm sad for Aaron." It was an odd sentiment. Aaron hadn't ever even expressed a desire for a sister, and I knew he'd be thrilled when he heard he was getting another brother, but still I felt sad for him. He has always been the very sweetest of big brothers, and I imagined that would have only been multiplied if it had been a baby sister under his kind and protective wing. More than anything, I think it was the realization that I wouldn't get to see what he would have been like as the big brother of a little sister.

As the days passed, that wondering of what would have been seemed to haunt me at every turn. Because we've never had a girl, our experiences so far have followed a rather similar course. And knowing that this is our fifth child and that five children is a lot, it is quite possible that this will be our last and so I might very well never know what some of those things would feel like.

For example, how would I react if the ultrasound tech said, "And . . . it looks like it's a girl!" It's rather mind blowing.

Or what would it feel like to tell family and friends (particularly my mother-in-law) that we're having a girl? How would they respond?

What would I do to prepare for a girl? How would it be different than preparing for a boy? What books would I read? What conversations would I have? What clothes or baby gear would I buy?

What would it be like to choose a name for a girl? To look through lists of girl names and pay close attention to every unique or unusual name I heard?

How would Sunday mornings change if I had to actually fix a little girl's hair before church instead of making a pit stop at the drinking fountain on our way into the chapel to smooth down my boys' unruly tufts?

What would it be like to hold her for the first time? To see Mike hold her for the first time? To see my kids with her?

While I'm so happy to have another boy, everything I've been feeling is so familiar. I've done this all before. Five times actually. And there's a small part of me that wonders what, if anything, I'm missing.

However, traveling the well-traveled road comes with its own perks. I've done this before, and I know I'm in for a treat. I can't wait to snuggle and love another boy. (And I'm happy to retain my position of queen of the house without having to figure out how to share the role.)

And although much of this pregnancy is familiar, there have been some delightful surprises as well. For one, our kids are beyond excited. Like, you wouldn't believe how ecstatic they are about another brother. Every week, we have to look up his progress and growth. And every few days, Clark will randomly burst out, "You're going to have a baby! I'm going to be a big brother!" My kids have never been old enough before to truly enjoy the excitement and anticipation of a new baby, and it has brought a whole new level of joy that I wasn't expecting.

The other surprise is how everyone else has reacted to the news of another boy. In the past, people have offered condolences or half-hearted attempts at enthusiasm when we've shared the gender, so that's what I was expecting this time. But either people are getting better at lying or five boys is just so crazy that it carries its own wonder. I choose to think the latter because that's how I feel. Five boys is miraculously wonderful.

And actually, I have a confession to make: In spite of telling the doctor that she wouldn't see any tears from me, I found myself quietly wiping them away. But it wasn't because I was having a boy. And it wasn't because I wasn't having a girl. As she looked at our baby's brain and his heart and his limbs and his face and his spine, she kept saying things like, "See this? That's exactly what we want to see. You have a perfectly healthy baby."

And that, beyond anything else, is the true wonder and miracle to me. Life is a such a gift, and I feel so incredibly blessed to watch another little one take shape. My heart is full and my tears catch me unawares, both then in that little exam room and every day since.

Photo credit goes to our good friend, James Gardner.

Review x 2: Edenbrooke and The Mistletoe Promise

And now for two completely fluffy reads. Don't judge me too harshly.

1. Edenbrooke by Julianne Donaldson

I read Edenbrooke soon after it was released in 2012. I loved it. At the time I remember thinking, If I'm reading with no other goals except relaxation and pleasure, then this is what I want to read.

Because I enjoyed it so much the first time, I've been meaning to read it again ever since. But I always found a reason why I couldn't or shouldn't read it: my to-read list is much too long to reread; it would just be for fun, so it can wait; it's not going to elevate or improve my life in any way; I have all these other (usually self-imposed) book deadlines, so they get first priority.

But even with all those completely valid reasons, I still wanted to read it, and that should count for something, right? After all, my first and foremost reason for reading is because I enjoy it, so it makes sense that I would want to read a book I already knew was enjoyable.

So because I knew it wouldn't happen any other way, I turned it into a reading goal for 2016: Reread Edenbrooke. Simple and straightforward, and because I take my goals very seriously, I knew it would happen.

The months passed, and I kept putting it off because there was always something more pressing to read. And suddenly, it was December, and, amid the pressure to finish all of my goals, I was so irritated that I had to somehow  squeeze in reading this book. I had to finish up some other goals, as well as read books for a couple of book clubs, and I absolutely did not want to read this book. It was going to be a disappointment. I knew I'd be more critical of it this time. It was going to be a big waste of reading time I did not have.

It's a testament to the Upholder in me that in spite of all of my kicking and screaming and protesting, I couldn't not read this book. It didn't matter that it was a personal goal--a personal, fun goal, no less. I had written it down. I couldn't ignore or disregard it. I had every part of my personality compelling, forcing, me to read it.

And so, I did. And oh my goodness, can you love a book more the second time? No one was more shocked than I was when I not only still liked it but absolutely adored it. I even saved the last thirty or so pages so that I could savor them, uninterrupted, during Clark's nap.

Set in Regency England, the story is ridiculously romantic. Marianne Daventry has always lived in the shadow of her twin sister, Cecily. When their mother dies in a tragic accident, their father sends Cecily to London with friends and Marianne to Bath to live with her grandmother. Marianne longs for the open air and countryside, and so, a year later, when Cecily invites her to their friends' grand estate, Edenbrooke, for the summer, Marianne doesn't have to think twice. On her way there, she meets a rude and obnoxious gentleman, Philip, at an inn (right after being held up by a highwayman), and she hopes to never see him again. But of course, she does. And, of course, she falls in love with him. It wouldn't be right if she didn't.

I'm well aware of the flaws in this book, but I have no desire to list them out because they honestly don't matter to me. I love the bantering and teasing dialogue, the characters, the setting, and seeing honor and virtue upheld. I love everything about this lovely story (except maybe the overuse of the word "odious").

And remember how I told myself it wasn't going to elevate or improve my life in any way? Well, I was wrong about that, too. In the last couple of months, I'd lost a lot of the joy of reading. I was reading because I had to, not because I wanted to. I outlined my reading schedule and followed it and didn't allow for last minute whims. But all of that disappeared the minute I cracked open this book. I fell into it headfirst, and just like that, my love of reading was rekindled. And if that's not elevating and improving my life, I don't know what is.

And now, I'm looking back at my reading goals and giving myself a giant pat on the back. I knew what I would need, and I knew the only way I'd give it to myself is if it was locked inside a goal. My 2016 reading is ending on a high note.

2. The Mistletoe Promise by Richard Paul Evans
This next review is to prove that not all fluffy books are created equal.

Most Decembers find me reading books I normally wouldn't even consider during the rest of the year. There's something about hot chocolate and twinkly lights that always makes me want to curl up with a sappy Christmas story. After finishing Edenbrooke earlier in the month, I was done with almost all of my content-specific goals and was just trying to make that final push to complete my numbers goal (I still don't know if I'm going to make it). So a short, easy read that I could just breeze through sounded like just the thing.

The premise was interesting enough: One day Elise Dutton is approached by Nicholas Derr in the food court of the office building where they both work. He's not a complete stranger--they bumped into each other in the elevator one day and they see each other often at lunchtime--but she's never really spoken to him before. He sits down and offers a proposal for the coming holiday season: He's tired of going to social events by himself, and he thinks she might be too, so why don't they just pretend to be in a relationship for the next six weeks so they won't be so lonely? All of the conditions will be written up in a contract (the Mistletoe Promise), so all expectations will be clear and there won't be any surprises.

The thing is, you don't just agree to be in a pretend relationship with someone you couldn't actually see yourself being in a real relationship with, and pretty soon Elise and Nick begin to develop real feelings for each other, which are only complicated by the dark and tragic secrets of their pasts.

So yes, the plot itself was exactly what I expected and wanted from a Hallmark-type holiday book. And I suppose the writing was exactly what I was expecting as well, but that doesn't mean it didn't irritate me. Everything just felt so generic: the conversations, the descriptions, the settings. It felt like anyone could have written it, including me . . . and that's not a compliment.

Maybe it's because the book takes place in Salt Lake, and so many of the places mentioned (Hale Center Theater, Abravanel Hall, City Creek, Olympus Cove, Sugar House park) are places I've actually been, but if I hadn't been, his descriptions would have done absolutely nothing to make me want to visit (and I've read many books where I'm desperate to see the real thing after reading and where the descriptions are so vivid, I almost feel like I've actually been there). The whole thing just felt like it was written in a hurry (which it probably was--deadlines are real).

I also really couldn't stand all of the expensive and extravagant presents Nick kept giving to Elise. I actually liked Nick's character quite a bit, except that he seemed to love spending ridiculous amounts of money. I get that he was trying to help Elise recognize her value, but to me it seemed really superficial, almost like the only way to show a person's value is with money. And then Elise decides to give Nick a really expensive gift too and basically has to drain her savings account to pay for it, and for what? For something Nick could have purchased with a snap of his fingers. I guess it shows a certain level of sacrifice from Elise, but still, I think a sentimental gift would have gone further show her feelings. The book even ended with Nick giving her a Lladró statue of Cinderella, which was supposed to be so sweet and symbolic but just felt like one more way to spend a lot of money. It just seemed like money was a much bigger part of the story than it needed to be, and every time Nick gave her another gift and talked about how much it cost and why it was so special, I rolled my eyes a little bit more.

 So yes, it left much to be desired, but did I stay up until midnight to finish it? Um, not telling . . .

And now, please share your favorite sappy Regency or Christmas books because there's no shame in admitting you read them. (Please tell me you read them, too, on occasion. )

The Stockings Were Hung...

After Aaron was born, I knew it was finally time to make a decision about our Christmas stockings. Mike and I had already enjoyed three Christmases as a married couple, but we'd spent all of them at my parents' house, so I just used my childhood stocking and Mike got some scrounged up substitution (he's not picky).

Growing up, my parents tag-teamed making our stockings. My mom sewed the actual stocking, and then my dad cross-stitched the name on the front (a labor of love, no question). With each new addition to our family, my parents would make a new stocking. I loved pulling out those stockings year after year and hanging them all in a row, anticipating what they would look like full and bulging on Christmas morning.

I knew I wanted our stockings to be similar to the ones from my childhood, so I used my mom's stocking pattern and had my dad chart out each of our names for me so I could cross-stitch them on the fronts.

The only real difference between the two groups of stockings was the choice of fabric. My mom selected a different pattern for each child: candy canes on one, little puppy dogs on another, etc. You could identify your stocking by the fabric as much as by the name on the front. But I wanted a more classic, minimalist look, so I decided to use the same green corduroy for all the boys and the same red corduroy for all the girls.

You see where this is going, don't you?

At the time, I only had one son, and I can remember standing in the fabric store, trying to mentally calculate how much fabric I needed to buy. It was tough because we didn't know how many children we wanted to have, so I felt like I had to go to my uppermost limit (well, I know we won't have more than 12 . . . I'm kidding, I'm kidding), and of course we also didn't know what our ratio of boys to girls would be. I knew I needed to get enough fabric of each color so that I wouldn't run out even if we ended up with all boys or mostly girls.

Over the years, as we've added one boy after another, the green fabric has been slowly whittled down while the red has remained virtually untouched. It turns out, I was much more serious about my minimalist look than I originally planned.

For the last couple of months, we've been anxious to find out if our new baby is a boy or a girl. My kids were all pulling for another boy, and I was just grateful that the decision was out of my hands because I didn't know which I would choose.

On December 8th, I went to the doctor's for my 20-week ultrasound. When I got home, I pulled out the corduroy and made another stocking and then wrapped it up. 

That night, the boys tore off the wrapping . . .

. . . and the room erupted in chaos: yelling and screaming and running around and jumping on and off the couch and snatching the stocking out of each other's hands.

I turned to Mike and, my words edged with sarcasm, said, "I'm soooo glad we're getting another boy."

But really, I am.

Review x 3: Tuck Everlasting, Ribsy, and Eight Cousins

I'm determined to get caught up on my reviews, even if it means making them a little shorter and combining them together. So here I go with three recent reads: one that I read with Aaron, another that I read aloud to the boys, and another that I listened to by myself.

1. Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt
So far this year, Aaron and I have read a nonfiction book about WWI, a graphic novel, a fictional story set in current times, a fantasy, and now, a modern classic.

Although published in 1975, Tuck Everlasting takes place in 1881. Winnie Foster imagines what life might be like beyond her white picket fence, and one day she gets her wish, although it's not anything like what she imagines. She meets the Tuck family in the woods that borders her home. Every ten years they come back to this spot, to a hidden spring that burbles from a large tree. When Winnie attempts to drink some of the water, they adamantly discourage her, and they're forced to tell her the reason why: they drank from that spring eighty-seven years ago . . . and they haven't aged a day since.

Aaron is such an easy going kid and will read pretty much anything I hand to him without complaint. Because of that, we've really been able to explore a variety of genres together, and I've been able to get a little better feel for his reading tastes. Peter Nimble and His Fantastic Eyes was definitely his favorite out of the group I mentioned above (and he has since read the sequel and branched into other fantasy series on his own), and Tuck Everlasting, I'm sorry to say, was probably his least favorite.

I wasn't expecting that. After all, it's short, introduces interesting characters, and has a totally unique premise. The length was definitely a blessing. But in retrospect, although I found the characters interesting, they weren't actually very relatable to an eight-year-old boy. Winnie is the only child in the story; the others are all adults and kind of old-fashioned adults at that. And then, those deep, moral questions, which I found so fascinating and thought-provoking, actually didn't interest Aaron very much at all. There's a big difference between how you view your own mortality when you're eight versus thirty-one, and at this stage in his life, it probably already feels like he's going to live forever, so he doesn't need a magic fountain to help him out (Aaron didn't actually tell me any of this--I'm making my own inferences based on his reaction).

The book picked up a little for him at the end: clubbing someone over the head, going to jail, and then busting out went a long way to perk up his attention, but I don't think it made the story rocket to the top of his favorites list by any means. Although technically middle-grade, this is a story that definitely seems to grow in depth and meaning with age, so hopefully he'll revisit it when he's a little older.

2. Ribsy by Beverly Cleary
Oh, this is bittersweet. So, so bittersweet. We read Henry Huggins over three years ago and have slowly, one perfect book at a time, worked our way through the series, ending with this final installment. Since I never read this series as a child, each book, each adventure, each funny little mishap has been new for me as well, and I have treasured, absolutely treasured, reading these books with my boys. Anytime we've been in a readaloud rut or just finished a really long book, we've turned to Henry for some reprieve, and he's always been exactly the sort of pick-me-up we needed. I don't know what we'll do without him to fall back on.

This one is slightly different than the other ones in the series because Ribsy, always a lively character, takes center stage when he gets lost on a rainy Saturday in the mall parking lot. Each chapter finds him in a new place (with a large family, with a sweet old woman, with a lonely little boy). Everyone can't help but like Ribsy--he's such an agreeable dog--but he is desperate to get home to Henry, and Henry, on the other side, is desperate to find him.

Somehow Beverly Cleary always knows how to make things come full circle, and the end of this series is no exception. You might remember that Henry found and adopted Ribsy in the very first book, and the climax of that particular story happened when Ribsy's previous owner turned up and wanted him back. The boys let Ribsy choose, and Ribsy chose Henry.

But a part of me has always wondered, Did Ribsy really like Henry more than that other boy, or had he just gotten used to the new kid who fed him and played with him? This book is the answer to that question because, again and again, Ribsy is given the chance to forget about Henry and get settled into a new home (he finds many good ones to choose from), but he won't do it. In spite of food, shelter, and friendship, he wants his boy. The truth is, he really does love Henry best.

My only consolation with this series ending is that at least we still have three Ramona books left, and we like her just as much as Henry (that, and we can always reread, which is its own kind of delight). 

3. Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott
At the beginning of this year, I made the goal to read a book by Louisa May Alcott. It was one of my more specific reading goals for sure, but it came about because Little Men was one of the best books I read last year, and so exploring more of Louisa May Alcott's works was a high priority for me. After a lot debating back and forth, I decided to leave Jo and her boys for awhile and meet some new characters, and they did not disappoint.

When 12-year-old Rose Campbell is orphaned, she is welcomed into her large and close-knit extended family. Her chief guardian is Uncle Alec, but they live with her two elderly aunts and are surrounded on all sides by more aunts and uncles and eight boisterous cousins (all boys). At first Rose, who is somewhat sickly, is overwhelmed, but Uncle Alec soon gets some color back into her cheeks and strength back into her bones as he encourages a healthy appetite, lots of outdoor activities, and plenty of hands-on experiences. Even though her cousins are wild and obnoxious, they are also surprisingly sweet and absolutely adore Rose. Luckily, she uses her power and influence over them for good, and along with Uncle Alec's parenting methods, which are rather unorthodox for the times, she blossoms into a lovely young woman.

Some parts of this story are charmingly old-fashioned (and you can't help but be aware that it was published in 1874), but then there are other little gems scattered here and there that are surprisingly current and ahead of their times. There was one scene where Rose is wearing a tight belt around her little waist, and Uncle Alec insists that she loosen it so that she can breathe deeply and fill it out with a nice, healthy figure. He says: "If you dear little girls would only learn what real beauty is and not pinch and starve and bleach yourselves out so, you'd save an immense deal of time and money and pain. A happy soul in a healthy body makes the best sort of beauty for man or woman." Such wise advice, but something I sometimes struggle to remember myself and that many little girls are getting mixed messages of today.

If you can't already tell from the above quote, Uncle Alec is an all-around wonderful character and probably my favorite one in the book. He is adored and deeply respected by everyone, is experienced and intelligent, and is just so incredibly kind. No mention is ever made about a love interest, but I just wondered again and again how he couldn't be married. And yet, I think one of the reasons he was such a perfect guardian for Rose was because he was single. There was a quote in the book that I just loved, and this was it: "Fatherly and motherly hearts often beat warm and wise in the breasts of bachelor uncles and maiden aunts, and it is my private opinion that these worthy creatures are a beautiful provision of nature, for the cherishing of other people's children." I believe that, and as much as I want my younger siblings to find the person of their dreams and get married, there's a part of me that wishes they would just stay single so that they'll continue to love and adore my children.

Speaking of Rose's uncle and the rest of her family though, there was one thing about the story that I didn't really understand: for being such a sweet and close family, how could it be that Rose didn't really know any of them until after her father died? There isn't ever a hint of a falling out or any other type of quarrel that would have kept them apart, and yet, Rose doesn't seem to know any of her aunts, uncles, or cousins until she comes to live on Aunt Hill.

I'm so glad I had the goal this year to read something else by Louisa May Alcott. I think, just because of my love of Little Women, I always would have counted her among my favorite authors, but now I'm getting a much better feel for her books, and consequently, I love her even more. It's interesting because I think many people would think of her as an author who writes about little girls (because Little Women is her most well-known work), but now that I've read a couple more of her books, I would say that little boys factor into her writing very prominently. It's obvious from the way she writes about them that she loves little boys, and I feel a deep kinship with her because of that.

Without meaning to, I kind of put three classic children's authors into the same post! I'd love to hear your thoughts about and experiences with them and their books.

My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante

My book club selected My Brilliant Friend for our November meeting, and, I'm ashamed to say, I almost didn't read it. Ashamed because it was such a good book, and it pains me to think about how I almost missed out on one of our best discussions of the year. But yes, I almost skipped it because reading has been stressing me out something serious over the last few weeks, and I didn't know if I could possibly add one more book to the teetering stack. (This is all stress I've brought on myself, by the way, and I just need to devote an entire post to it so I can remember not to do this same thing next year.)

Originally published in Italian, My Brilliant Friend is a coming-of-age novel about two young women growing up in Naples during the 1950's. Lila is smart, confident, manipulative, and fearless. Lenù (the one telling the story) is also smart but a little more timid and unsure of herself. She seems to rely a great deal on Lila for her self-esteem.

But therein lies the intrigue of the whole story for me. Their friendship is extremely complicated, and I spent the whole book wondering, Who is really the dependent one here? Or are they both dependent on each other but since we're getting it from Lenù's perspective, we don't realize how much Lila is really dependent on her?

I was reminded of one of my best friends who I roomed with during my freshman year of college. That first semester, I was extremely homesick--like, losing weight, begging my parents to let me come home, failing my classes kind of homesick. Beth was one of the reasons why I actually survived that semester and, by extension, college. She was really the only one who knew I was having such a hard time, and I was so grateful for her. The next semester, my homesickness was completely gone, and I was thriving when all of a sudden, the same kind of homesickness hit Beth like a wave. Then it was my turn to be the shoulder and support until she made it through. I've always thought it was so ironic that we didn't both get homesick at the same time but rather took turns so we could help each other.

Although my experience is on a smaller, far less complicated, scale, that's kind of what Lila and Lenù's friendship is like. Lenù herself senses this give and take and says: "In that period it became a daily exercise: the better off I had been in Ischia, the worse off Lila had been in the desolation of the neighborhood; the more I had suffered upon leaving the island, the happier she had become. It was as if, because of an evil spell, the joy or sorrow of one required the sorrow or joy of the other."

However, in spite of their close connection, there's also this deep-seated animosity (or, perhaps that's too strong a word--jealousy, competitiveness?) that underlies it all. One moment they're helping each other, even to the point of making great personal sacrifices, and the next, they're silent and resentful and avoid each other.

There's one scene that still baffles me but that I feel holds some sort of clue to understanding their friendship. It happens early in the story, when they're both still fairly young. Lila suggests that they skip school so that they can walk to the ocean and see it for the first time. Lila is usually the one to come up with fantastic, dangerous plans, but Lenù agrees. They make the necessary plans to deceive their parents so that they can be gone the whole day without anyone noticing, and they set off. It's a long, hot walk, and after they've been going for several hours, they notice a storm on the horizon. Even though they're close to their destination, Lila, usually the fearless one, insists that they turn back while Lenù wants to keep going.

Lenù says, "A mysterious inversion of attitudes had occurred: I, despite the rain, would have continued on the road, I felt far from everything and everyone, and distance--I discovered for the first time--extinguished in me every tie and every worry; Lila had abruptly repented of her own plan, she had given up the sea, she had wanted to return to the confines of the neighborhood. I couldn't figure it out."

I couldn't figure it out either. Was Lila really, inexplicably, afraid? Or was she trying to get Lenù into trouble (remember, I told you their relationship was complicated)? Or was it actually a foreshadowing of things to come: Lila was more comfortable at home where things were far from perfect but at least she knew how to deal with them while Lenù was more content with the new and unknown (but didn't really realize it yet).

The story reminded me a lot of Betty Smith's, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Maybe not so much in terms of the plot (I don't remember Francie being in the middle of a volatile friendship), but more in the tone and setting. The slums of Brooklyn and the slums of Naples seem to have a lot in common. They're dangerous and dirty and just so, so violent. People are murdered by their neighbors, weapons and threats are flashed about, and fights erupt at the least provocation. Abuse is rampant. Lenù describes it this way: "Life was like that, that's all, we grew up with the duty to make it difficult for others before they made it difficult for us."

And of course, there are some rather frightening characters behind all that violence. But the thing I couldn't stop thinking about was this cycle that seems miserably common in poverty-stricken cities: the sins of the fathers become the sins of the children. Occasionally, the cycle hits a bump, as when a child tries to leave those things behind or when, alternatively, the child actually sinks lower than the parents, but generally the cycle just spins over and over, a seamless circle from one generation to the next.

The book "ends" without really ending at all, and now I don't know what to do. You know I'm not usually a binge reader, but especially not when I'm trying to finish all my reading goals by the end of the year. However, I want to know what's going to happen, and I know that if I wait too long, I'm going to forget who everyone is (there are a lot of characters, and even though they're all very well-developed, they have similar enough sounding names that I'll never be able to remember who's who). Most of the other women in my book club had already put in their requests at the library for the second book, but I think I'm going to have to hold out until at least the first of the year. That, or I might have a mental breakdown. Over books. How pathetic.

Content note: the aforementioned violence and abuse as well as some foul language (including the f-word) and a few brief sexual scenes. I didn't say the subject matter was easy.

The "I Would Buy That Again" Gift Guide

In the four-and-a-half years of my blog's existence, I have never published an official "gift guide." I've shared favorite things here and there in random posts, but never compiled a conscientious list.

But over the last few months, I've had a number of friends ask if certain toys that we own are "worth it," and I've also had the thought cross my mind on more than one occasion and about more than one toy, That was one of the best things we ever invested money on.

I also realized how much I love recommendations from trusted friends and sources (Mel's gift guides are among my very, very favorite), and so I thought I could maybe do the same for you.

We are not huge consumers, and so this list is going to be relatively short, as well as random. I'm including outdoor toys, building toys, games, crafts, books, etc. These are gifts that have gotten heavy, sometimes daily, use at our house (some of them for years) and are still going strong. These are all things that I would really and truly buy again if I were given the choice and that I've never experienced even the slightest twinge of buyers' remorse over.

(Disclaimer: Many of the links below are affiliate links, which means that if you purchase anything through that link, I earn a small commission without changing the cost for you. But please, feel free to shop around for a better deal!)

1. Wiggle Car
When Aaron was eighteen months old, we bought him a blue and red wiggle car with some Christmas money Mike's grandma had given us. At the time, these were still relatively new toys, and so we actually went to a swing set store to buy it because they were a distributor of them. I can still remember the sales guy sitting down on one and riding it around the show room to demonstrate its weight capacity. In the years since, we've acquired two more (one yellow, one green), and, except for extremely cold winter days, all three of them are driven around every single day. My kids race around the driveway and ride them up and down the street over and over and over. I keep expecting a wheel to break or a handle to fall off, but even the blue one (which is now seven years old) is still going strong. There are so many riding toys that get quickly outgrown (we keep having to buy new bikes because my kids just keep getting taller), but wiggle cars work for toddlers all the way up through teenagers (and yes, we have some older neighbor kids who love to ride them around). There are two brands (wiggle and plasma) and they look almost identical, but I believe that all three of ours are wiggle cars.

2. Legos
Ah, Legos. We entered the world of Legos the Christmas when Aaron was four-and-a-half, and I think they've been a part of our Christmases ever since. Prior to that Christmas, Mike scoured the classifieds and finally found a decent collection of bricks for a good price. That was definitely a nice way to start because it gave them a good foundation of basic pieces, but since then, my kids have loved saving up for and asking for actual sets (their favorites, and the ones they dream about the most, are from the Star Wars collection and the Creator collection). People have asked me before what we do with those built sets (do they display them? play with them? take them apart and build the same set over again? take them apart and build something completely new?), and the answer is: all of the above. This year I'm giving Aaron this book of Lego designs to inspire him to try new projects, but honestly, he seems to be plenty creative on his own.  In fact, it is not unusual for him to go directly from the car to the Lego bin in the basement when he gets home from school. They're beastly to step on in the middle of the night and I find that I always seem to have a random collection of them in my pocket because I find them all over the house, but oh, my kids love them.

3. Magformers
There are dozens of building toys out there, but this is where we've chosen to spend our money (along with Legos--see above). Why? Oh, for so many reasons. First of all, they're durable and well-made. We've had them for three years, and during that time, I think we've had two pieces break (and I blame my kids entirely for both breakages--they're hard on toys). Second, they appeal to a wide age range: Clark and his friends play with them as do our teenage nephews. Even adults find them impossible to resist. Because they're magnetic, they go together easily, almost without trying, and there is no end to the creative possibilities. And third, they are a breeze to clean up. This is where they trump Legos; instead of little random pieces scattered all over, they just all sort of clump together, making it super easy to gather them up and throw them in the bin. These are by far one of the more expensive toys we've invested in, and at the time, I really wondered if it would be worth it. But it has been. Again and again and again it's been worth it. Originally we bought the largest set we could find (and we've never felt like we had "too many" Magformers) and then later added one of the construction sets because it came with a couple of shapes we didn't have as well as a few specialty pieces. When I've been tempted to buy other building toys, I always ask myself, Will we like them more than Magformers? And the answer is almost always, Mostly likely not.

4. Q-Bitz
I probably could make an entire gift guide entirely out of games because my kids love games and play them all the time, but I'll restrain myself, mostly because most of the games we own I haven't actually played with them (guilty confession, but that's why they have each other, right?). But this one, I have. And what's more, I actually enjoy playing it with them. Each person gets a board with sixteen little cubes. The cubes each have six different sides. A card is turned over in the middle of the table with a design on it, and players have to race against each other to be the first one to duplicate the design. I have had just as much fun playing this game with adults as with kids, and the great thing is, if you're not really a competitive person, you can just play by yourself--it's just fun to turn the cubes and create the designs.

5. Rush Hour Jr.
This is a fun single-player game that challenges logical thinking and reasoning. The player picks a card from the deck and sets up the grid board according to the picture. The goal is to get the ice cream truck out of a traffic jam by sliding the other vehicles in and out of their places until you've created a clear path. Check out this video if you want a more visual idea for how it works. The puzzles get gradually harder as you work your way through the deck. So far we've only tried the junior version, although Aaron could definitely move up to the regular version. (This is the perfect game for afternoon quiet time or just when your kids need some time away from each other . . . or is that just my kids?) (Oh also, if your kids really like these kinds of logic puzzles, another favorite of ours is Castle Logix.)

6. Round metal pencil sharpener
I know, you're probably thinking, One of these things is not like the other. How did a pencil sharpener end up on this list? But stay with me. Anne Bogel calls this "the holy grail of pencil sharpeners," and with good reason. For years, we have dealt with the most inadequate pencil sharpeners (probably because we bought them for less than a dollar at Wal-Mart). They never gripped the pencils, and when they did, they sharpened them up one side but not the other. My kids are constantly drawing and coloring and doing projects, and the lack of a good pencil sharpener was so frustrating. I considered getting an electric sharpener, but as a last resort, decided to try this one first. Lo and behold, it only took three turns of the pencil, and it had a beautifully sharp point. I was sold (and so were my kids). I'm considering getting one for each of them for their stockings because I'm so worried about losing the only one we have.

7. Ramona Quimby collection
You knew books had to show up somewhere on this list, right? And although it pains me to have to pick favorites, I will say that these books (along with the Henry Huggins series) are probably the most read and re-read series in our house. Alternatively, they also love listening to the audio versions, and if you're an audible member, you're not going to find a better deal for your monthly credit than these collections. Eight books in the Ramona series or six books in the Henry series for one credit (which ends up being about $15, depending on your subscription)?! That's incredible.

8. Thinking Putty
A friend recommended this high-end silly putty earlier this year and said that it's one of her kids' favorite ways to occupy their hands when she's reading aloud to them. I bought a small tin for each of my kids for Easter, and it has been played with countless times since then (and yes, usually when I'm reading to them). At five times the price of old-school silly putty, you're probably wondering if it's worth it. And since I'm including it here, you can probably guess that my opinion is yes, I'd take this over silly putty any day (and pay for it, too). It comes in the most amazing assortment of colors and the texture is less rubbery, more smooth, than silly putty. However, in the interest of full disclosure, I have to tell you that the other day I asked Mike if he would buy it again and he said no. And it's true that even though we have pretty strict rules about when they can play with it and where it goes when they're done, they've still managed to smash it into the carpet. But a little vinegar has taken it right up without any problem. So buy it at your own risk. (Also, there's quite a range in price. This four-pack is one of the best prices I've seen, even with paying for the shipping.) A perfect stocking stuffer. 

9. Perler beads
I saw that--a few of you cringed when you saw this on the list, didn't you? And I totally get that. Perler beads are either a dream come true (your kids will sit for hours and painstakingly fill up a pegboard with little beads) or your worst nightmare (you spend most of your time sweeping up all those little beads while your kids wail because they accidentally bumped the pegboard when they were almost done). We happen to fall into the first camp, which is why they made it on the list, but I totally have some things that are like the second (rainbow loom! kinetic sand! ugh!). I've tried to figure out why perler beads have worked so well for us, and I think the main reason is just that we happened on a really good system right from the start: all of the supplies (beads, boards, even their finished creations) go in one big tub that gets put on a high shelf in their closet. They're only allowed to do them at the kitchen table (never in their room) and usually only during quiet time (so that Clark can't work his destruction magic). It just works for us. So there's that, but also, my kids just really love putting them together and somehow become miraculously focused and concentrated when they're working on them.

10. Ravensburger puzzles
We are a family of puzzle addicts. Mike claims that he doesn't love doing puzzles, but it sure seems like anytime we have one out, he somehow ends up being sucked into it, so the evidence would speak otherwise. At this point, Clark's interest is probably more of an adversarial one, if you know what I mean (nothing like having the power to make an older brother scream and chase you), but he loves doing wooden ones, so I think he'll come around. Our favorite brand is Ravensburger because the pieces are sturdy and fit together securely, the pictures are colorful and kid-friendly (even as you move up to more pieces), and they've got a wide range of sizes (even breaking it down into the 200- and 300-piece sizes, which are sometimes difficult to find). We have even ordered one of their custom puzzles, and it was the same great quality we've come to expect from their other puzzles but with a picture of our family on it. We still haven't braved anything beyond 500-pieces, but I think this might be the year for it.

11. Shrinky Dinks
These simple craft sheets literally kept my kids busy the entire Christmas break last year. Have you seen them? You simply draw a picture on one of the clear plastic sheets, cut it out, and put it in the oven where it miraculously shrinks down and turns into a hard thick plastic in the process--perfect for Christmas ornaments or key chains or necklace pendants. There are lots of specialized packs out there, but I just bought my kids one of the regular packs with ten sheets in it (and no extra gadgets). Then I printed out coloring pages for them, which they traced over with a sharpie and colored in with sharpies or colored pencils, and then they kept an eye on them through the oven window until they reached the perfect size. So many hours of fun.

12. Magazine subscription
Last but not least, how about a gift that keeps on giving? My parents gave Maxwell a Ranger Rick subscription for his birthday, and it has been one of his favorite things this year. Of course he loves it for all the animal facts and the jokes, but mostly he thinks it is wildly exciting to get something in the mail every month that's just for him (he does end up sharing it with his brothers but only after he's read it cover to cover). There are so many fun magazines to choose from. Ranger Rick is a good fit for Max because he's such an animal enthusiast, but search around because there's bound to be the perfect magazine for whatever your child enjoys.

Are any of these your favorites, too? Tell me about the toys YOU would buy again. Also, I'm happy to try to answer any questions you might have about anything I've mentioned.