Good Book?

Kris and I made what may possibly be the most fool-hardy and self-destructive New Year's Resolution on record: to read more in 2012.  I know, sounds wholesome, right?  What's that thing about the devil luring you in with flaxen cords, later to become chains of steel...Yeah, that's the trouble.  While reading may be a whole hearty lot better for your brain than TV, it's a bottomless pit for time. And it's sucking us dry!  I've already consumed somewhere around 2,000 pages in the last three weeks.  That sounds like a pretty moderate pace, considering I used to read about that much every two days in college (word to the wise, NEVER take 18 credits of English in one semester, and especially DO NOT make French and Russian Novels three of them).  But still.  I've got a baby to care for and play with, crafts sitting undone, Sunday school lessons to prepare, dinners to make and bathrooms to clean and, heavens, I don't have time for this!  I think that I may have to give up on this resolution for the unheard of reason that I'm actually keeping it!  Sigh. 

So what's been on my reading binge list?  Here they are, with brief reviews:

• East of Eden, by John Steinbeck.  I think that this might possibly be the best book I've read in ages.  The prose is as sublime as the characters are flawed and fascinating.  It's a 600-page re- imagining of the Cain and Able story, and I adore the layers and shadows Steinbeck develops through the narrative.  It's pretty dark in some ways (full of murderous wretches and "ladies" of the night), but there are also characters like Lee and Samuel who fairly shimmer against the story's backdrop.  Plus, it's about truth, which is my #1 requirement for a great book.  Not that a story has to lay down an obvious and deliberate moral for me to enjoy it...more like I need to see the characters wrestling with the very nature of truth and coming up against their own flaws in search of a thing that life's messy circumstances can make appear so ephemeral, but which in reality is so adamantine (the subject of an excellent Roethke poem, but I digress...).  In short, I loved this book.
• The Book of a Thousand Days, by Shannon Hale.  This was an impulse read, nabbed when I chanced to see it in the YAL section as I picked up some books for Kris.  I guess I just remembered that one of our nieces loves the author, so I decided to try it out.  Pretty good.  The narrator has a strong, engaging voice and it's a neat retelling of an old myth.  If you're looking for a princess locked in a tower, this one's all you. 
• Peace Like a River, by Leif Enger. I've been trying to check this one out for two years now, because I liked Enger's second novel so much.  I was not disappointed.  It's the story of a family in search of their outlaw son/brother, but it's highest appeal is in the quirky characters and playful narrative voice.  This is another truthy book, though much lighter and easier to read than Steinbeck.  And if you don't laugh during the goose hunt, there might be something wrong with you.    
• The Ranger's Apprentice Series, by John Flannagan.  Kris absolutely adores these books.  He imagines himself as the knife-toting, arrow-slinging hero, off to save the world.  Me?  I'm not too big on fantasy.  It's just that the genre tends to rely heavily on stock characters and trite plots, each dressed in some funky new name from book to book, but not fooling anybody.  The first two books in this series seem doomed to fall right in line with every other fantasy book, but by book three there is definitely a welcome shift toward new paths for worn feet to follow.  This still isn't my favorite set of books (and obviously I'm not their target audience), but they're good for light reading.  Hey, Twilight kept me from dying of boredom during a SLC-ATL-Columbus flight, even with it's vain repetitions of amber eyes and russet skin...every book has a time and place :) 

So that's the skinny.  What's your definition of a great book?  What are the best books you've read lately?  It's ok, you can tell me, since I promise not to read them.  I'm quitting...remember? :)

Glamour Shots, By Mom

At seven months Eden is a connoisseur of fine solids, master roller, supreme cord chewer, expert dog tormentor and general ruffian.  But she sure is pretty!

Christmas Unwrapped

Time for the big, "Samantha Crafted It" reveal.  Don't be too let down...



Hand puppets for a nephew. 

A family of owls for a niece. (I got the idea from http://juicy-bits.typepad.com/juicy_bits/2009/12/131-give-a-hoot-for-the-holidays.html)



 A writer's notebook for my brother.



Headbands for my sisters. (I got the idea from http://sewcraftcreate.com/2011/11/felt-medallion-tutotial/)



Scarves for my sisters.

Not pictured: A beanie for a BIL, a beanie for Eden, and a decorative "E" for Eden's nursery. Whew!

Final-ly

What do you do on the day that you become your mother and father's daughter in a court of law and you're just so excited about it that you can hardly breathe?  Easy.  It starts with chewing on your toes..
.

But things rapidly progress as you notice that you're wearing a super-interesting, ruffly dress...and it has a delicious, sparkly bow!

So you begin to chew on it...until you discover that your mom is watching you.  Then you try to look innocent, but instead you look all sorts of guilty...

SO just to make sure that your parents follow through with this finalization thing, you turn on an extra dose of cute.  Cue the big blue eyes...

Hey, look!  It worked!

30 Hours of Christmas

Eden is a wonderful baby.  Truly she is.  For about the last six weeks she goes to bed at 8 pm and sleeps through til 5:30 am, eats, and then goes back to sleep until 9 am.  Do you know what that means?  It means that for three whole hours in the morning I get to do WHATEVER I want (plus whatever housework intrudes on my solitude).  It's glorious.  SO what have I been doing with my glut of time?  Crafting, of course!  To be precise, I have made 9 Christmas gifts by hand over the course of about 30 working hours.  And I'm dying to post them; but that's problematic for obvious reasons.  Instead, I'll merely show you this:

My handcrafted wrapping job.  You'll just have to wonder what's inside. (As a side note, I am wrapping EVERYTHING this year.  My mom was and is the anti-wrapping nazi...and I quote, "I refuse the fill the landfills with unnecessary paper garbage."  In principle I agree, but there is still a pretty-packages-deprived child inside of me and this year I'm cutting her loose.  Sorry, mom.)

Oh, and I've also been doing some baking...

Anyway, it's been a lot of fun.  I love getting creative.  And it is amazing what Santa can accomplish if she takes advantage of one very "helpful" elf's sleep habits. 

She's Adopted...?

That's what I tell people.  Because it's true.  But it only really comes up with strangers in the following way, and I never can resist toying with them, just a little bit.  Here's how it goes:

Stranger: Awww!  Cute baby!  How old is she?

Me: She's _____ months. 

Stranger: Oh, my GOSH!  You had a baby ____ months ago?!  I did NOT look like THAT after I had my baby. You look great!  How did you do it?

Me: You want to know my weight loss secret?

Stranger: (Leaning closer, thrilled to have found the secret sure to engender skinniness, fortune, and fame.) Yes!

Me: She's adopted.

Stranger: (Confused, deflated, dreams of easy thinness gone, maybe just a little amused.) Oh. 

Of course those opportunities are rapidly diminishing.  When Eden is a year old, no one will be surprised to see me looking like I've never been pregnant.  So I'll enjoy the joke while it lasts.  Evil of me, right?  Why do I make my little joke at the expense of some nice stranger?  I could just say, "Thank you," and spare the complimentary individual.  For one thing, that just feels even meaner.  Like it's the equivalent of affirming, "Yes, that's because I'm better than you.  In fact, you're worthless. Anyone worth their salt looks like they never had a baby immediately after having a baby." (Guarantee I would not look any less beach-ballesque than the next postpartum lady if ever I was postpartum, pardon the offense.) So I feel pressured to rescue the stranger's self-esteem by explaining Eden's origin.  I guess I also do it out of revenge for making me choose between lying and telling the truth.  Apparently I have some form of mild resentment that a stranger can make me say that Eden is adopted.  I hate labeling her that way.  "Adopted" isn't an appropriate adjective for describing a person; it's the past tense verb for how some babies come to their families.  You know, basically equivalent to the word "conceived," and we don't call people that (Example: Johnny, the conceived kid, is really hyperactive.").   But lest you get the wrong idea, I'm not at all embarrassed about how Eden joined our family.  It isn't that.  I think adoption is a beautiful miracle and I WANT to share our story.  Just not in the checkout line.  I guess it's that people who birth their children never have to explain to a perfect stranger how that happened.  There is no "Cute baby!  Oh, thanks, I conceived her myself.  Let me tell you all about it..." conversation. (And I think we can all be thankful for that!)

Here's the other part...I often completely forget (but for these little reminders when buying milk) that Eden didn't come from the swirling spirals of my DNA.  Her birthmom was so awesome to let us go with her to every doctor's appointment and to be there when Eden was born, that it kind of just feels like WE were pregnant.  And certainly when Eden wakes up in two hours, all smiles and giggles to see me, I won't be thinking anything along the lines of "You sure are cute for an adopted kid!"  Nope.  She's just OURS.  And I love her completely.

What kinds of frustrating questions do strangers ask you about your kids (or about not having kids yet)?  Do you ever play jokes on them in response?

Happy Halloween!!!