I read a book.
An entire book. With no illustrations or references to a singing backpack, fire trucks, construction equipment or Sir Topham Hat.
The book had over 200 pages and a TON of footnotes.
And I read it in under a week.
As the mother of a 22 month old and 8 week old, I think you should be impressed.
As a good politically aware Canadian girl, I watch the Rick Mercer Report religiously. The dude rocks. Although I am slightly disappointed, as I am sure many are, that he plays for the other team. But I digress.
After RMR, there are always sultry, intriguing previews for The Tudors. Jonathan Rhys Meyers is Henry VIII? Man, if only the pompous lusty royal really looked like that! He could behead me anytime! I really wanted to watch the show, but it is all sequential, and I had already missed the first 5 episodes. What’s a poor maiden to do?
Hello, my good friend, BitTorrent. Within one night, I had all 10 episodes at my disposal, ready to indulge in the royal fantasy. And indulge I did. It has me completely hooked. Not only on his Highness’s bod, but on the actual history itself. I have the encyclopedia out, wikipedia is open on my laptop, and I am researching until my eyes can’t focus on his lovely face anymore.
In fact, my research led me to a trailer for The Other Boleyn Girl, which led me here and then here, which led me to the library to get a copy of this book, which I am devouring like leftover Halloween treats.. I am indeed addicted. I may have to seek some sort of 12 step program once the show ends and I have finished all of Gregory’s books. Alas, I cannot bear to think of it: the pain is too great…
Not dead. Just reading Harry Potter. On page 200 or so. Reading is slower now that must entertain 11-month old. Will be back when done.
Don’t post any spoilers!! This means YOU!
I will preface this post with the following: I am Roman Catholic. I have a minor in religious studies, and I have a lot of background in church ministries.
Now, I will tell you this:
Read Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal
I have never actually laughed out loud while reading something, despite the ubiquitous use of the LOL and LMAO in my comments of blogs. While reading this book, I laughed so loud that I snorted my tea through my nose to stifle the sound so as not to wake the little dude in the next room.
It is a highly irreverent look at the missing years in Christ’s life, namely from birth to age 30, as told by Jesus’ best friend, Levi aka Biff. Making matters more LOLable, Biff has the gift of tongues, which enables him to tell the story using today’s language and linguistic idioms – hence the use of the word dumbfuck, asswipe, and so on. If you ever imagined how bunnies came to be associated with Easter, it’s in this book. Don’t know where sarcasm was born? Read this book. What about Judo? Here it is. What would it have been like if Jesus did martial arts? Take a gander into the pages. This book does not really touch on any of the gospel stories, rather a speculative behind-the-scenes look at Jesus’ life. A “Making-Of” featurette that could appear on the bonus disc of the Bible’s DVD companion, if you will.
The first question people ask when I talk about this book is “Is Jesus married in it? He doesn’t sin, does he?” Not to spoil anything, but no, the author maintains Jesus’ integrity as the Messiah in that sense. What he also shows, however, is an imaginary view of what Jesus would have been like “off the record.” And he seems like he would have known how to have a good time.
Any one else read this book? What did you think?
A mother is a lot like the little wombat
Sometimes I like to curl up in a ball
So no one can see me, because I’m so small
Sometimes I like to jump as high as I can
Spreading my wings to soar above the sand
Sometimes I like to scream ever so loud
Trying to escape this madness and praying to be found
Sometimes I seem to just walk round and round
I cannot move forward, my soul firmly planted in the ground
Sometimes I wish I could stand as still as a tree
Without anyone climbing, crying, flailing on me
Sometimes I know I should just hold my tongue
And appreciate the support that I get from the one that I love
Sometimes I let things get into a real mess
Not knowing what to do, burying my head in my chest
Sometimes I wish I could run ever so fast
Away from the pressure, the worry, the daunting task
But when the day ends and the sun starts to fall
Then I remember why I do it at all
I look into his eyes, so full for one so small
And I cuddle him close to my heart
As we curl up in a ball
**As I read Sacha’s favourite book for the umpteenth time tonight, I found myself rewriting it in my head. This is what came of it.
A friend and I went to the local bookstore this weekend to pass the time while our husbands were working on the pool in the yard. I had a specific book in mind for myself, and apparently so did Sacha. I hadn’t bothered to put S in the stroller since he and the stroller have had a bit of a tif in the past few days and I knew that they weren’t on amicable terms. This meant that while I was browsing for books, he would be in my arms or on the floor of the store. Mistake number 1.
I found the book I was looking for (Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal) in the first couple of minutes, then I just browsed around, looking at the bargain books, kids’ books, and obviously, knitting books. as I grazed through the kids’ books, shuddering at the horror of the onslaught of Dora books (how I hate her so much), I looked down to see S playing with a little purse/book. Aw, that’s cute, I thought. I found a unique ABC book inspired by Canada’s love affair with all things hockey and flipped through it. I looked down to show S the book, only to find that the entire bottom shelf of the kids’ book section was empty, and my son was in the middle of the pyramid of paper and board. Oh crap. My friend (who is expecting her first child in 5 weeks) and I acted quickly to toss the books back on the shelf (not giving a shit about ISBN numbers or author’s last name). Unfortunately, S thought this was a game. Mistake number 2.
He kept yanking books off faster than we could throw them back, and then he sat in the middle of the aisle and worked his own organizational system on both shelves within arm’s reach at once. Dora: floor. Munsch: floor. Dr Seuss: floor. Pat the Bunny: mouth, then floor. He then crawled to the Young Adult section, where he started working his magic on the Gordan Korman books, the Spiderwick series, and the Harry Potter books. All of these found a new home on the floor (after he tasted the paper, of course). I quickly grabbed a couple of touch-and-feel books and tried to read them to him (or at least get him to touch-and-feel them) while my friend threw the books back on the shelf. He looked at the book, made no attempt to touch-and-feel it, then turned to the knitting books and tossed them on the floor. Sweet merciful crap.
I scooped his little diaper bum up, walked to the till while my friend finished covering up our disaster, paid for the books while he struggled in my arms for his freedom, and raced out of the store before anyone could blame me for the obvious mess we’d made.
As it stands, we have not yet been banished from the store. Book stores don’t have fingerprinting and DNA recognition tools, right?
I was an avid reader growing up. My mom says that when she would wake up in the night to nurse my younger sister, I would wake up and bring her a book to read to me while she nursed. I have since wondered what the hell my dad was doing during those times, but I can’t ask him, so I guess I’ll never know.
But I digress.
University brought a halt to my reading-for-fun. Honestly, after reading text after article after math proof, the only page I wanted to turn was in my InStyle mag. But now that I am a little freer, I am back into the books with a vengeance. So here’s a snippet of the literary entertainment that I have blessed my eyes and mind with in the past few months:
The Time Traveler’s Wife – Brilliant and mesmerizing. I still think about those characters as though they are real people in my life. It is by far one of the best books I’ve read. EVER. The others would be Life of Pi, One Hundred Years of Solitude, and The Piano Man’s Daughter. I could go on and on about these books, but I won’t. Read them for yourself and discover.
The Memory Keeper’s Daughter – Though not a literary masterpiece by any means, it kept me turning the page. I appreciated the Phoebe storyline more than Paul’s, so I kept reading to find out more about Phoebe, though I didn’t learn as much as I would have wanted.
Getting Rid of Matthew – I bought it at the airport to read on the plane and the cover looked fun, but I had never heard of it or the author before.This is a British chick book à la Bridget Jones, and although it took me awhile to get into (I found the beginning rather forced), once I hit the midpoint of the plot I was hooked. It’s the antithesis of a romance novel, and funny to boot. I could see it ending up as a romantic comedy someday. Well, an anti-romance romantic comedy. Maybe just a comedy. Or a dramedy.
Now, I must confess the following: I am reading the Traveling Pants books. Actually, I’ve read the first 3 Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants books, and am right into the fourth book. How are these freaken books so good? The characters are a bit cliché, and the whole idea of being joined by the pants “together and apart” is a little ridiculous, but I love them anyway! In fact, when I finished the second book last Sunday, I immediately ran to the computer to request the next book from the library (as the bookstore was closed). I have not seen the movie, so I have no idea if its cheese factor is greater than gorgonzola, but the books are fun, light, and did I mention FUN? Must read, people. Must read.
Moo Baa La La La – What the hell, I love it. Sacha loves it, everyone loves it.
And yes, I still flip through the ads of my InStyle on a monthly basis. Not that I can really buy any of what is in there (damn American department stores) but I love flipping just the same.
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The story of a franco-ukrainian-math-nerd-music-making-sock-knitting teacher on indefinite maternity leave to raise her two sons, Sacha and Kees.
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