Bibliomama

I was given this book to review by Robert Rose Publishing. I have to say, I really wish they'd come out with it ten years ago, because it would have been really nice to have around. This is the most comprehensive, up-to-date book of its type that I've seen - it kind of kicks What to Expect the Toddler Years' ass. It's a fairly massive tome - about 450 pages, but well organized and indexed, and also featuring an alphabetical page-edging tab, so it's easy to find what you're looking for. It features everything from common childhood ailments (colds, flu, hand foot and mouth disease) to common childhood injuries (slivers, cuts, bruises, bee and wasp stings) and more serious and less common conditions and disorders (autism spectrum disorder, Epstein-Barr virus, obstructive sleep apnea). It also addresses anxiety disorders, bullying and cyber-bullying and school phobias and avoidance; this is clearly not your parents' guide to children' health. There ar...

I was raised Catholic. Easter week-end was basically one really long Church service after another. From the time I was twelve or so, I was in the choir or playing the organ, so there was also a bunch of rehearsals and getting their extra early for Easter Sunday mass, which was often the day after the spring time change, making it even earlier. Once when I was in university, my parents were visiting and my mother and I were going to Good Friday mass, and a guy in our residence said he'd come with us. As we left the church three hours later, he exclaimed, with several expletives, that he was trying to expiate his Irish Catholic guilt by going to one service for Easter and had figured this would be the short one. My mother almost died laughing. Photo by Matthew Sabo When I went to McMaster and belonged to the university choir, the choir director asked me to join his church choir and picked me up for rehearsals and mass for a few months. I remember singing a version of "Were...

I had this mini-epiphany last week; usually in the morning I sit down with breakfast and check my email and return messages and work on course stuff and check Facebook before I settle down to writing. Sometimes I leave blogging until after supper. On Thursday morning, I wrote my blog post before doing anything else. And I felt this incredible surge of happiness and accomplishment. Now I realize I'm not always the quickest study, but the lesson seemed obvious. So this morning I was all set to write my Meme Monday post, but when I checked, Nicole's wasn't up yet, so I wasn't sure if we were DOING Meme Monday, so I thought maybe I'd do a Mondays on the Margins post, but I only had one half-prepared, and when I thought about it I thought it probably needed some quotes, which would necessitate me having all the books, which I don't, so I waffled. And then I did other stuff. And now here I am, after dinner, needing to get on the treadmill, wondering why I NEVER LEA...

1. She fed my kids chicken korma, which I never would have dared to try, and they loved it, which opened the door to chicken curry once a week. 2. She fed Angus tuna, which he didn't like but ate out of fear, which amused me highly. 3. We like the same movies, and dislike the girl who interviews all the bands in the pre-show, and every time she's on we use the word 'sycophant' and giggle like idiots. 4. She has a nice rack. 5. She is honest. The kind of honest that can sting a bit at first but then becomes wholly refreshing and useful. When we were in Toronto to see Wicked we were staying at a friend's house and I came down after getting dressed for the show and said "does this necklace go with this dress?" She looked up from her magazine and said "yep" and I said "good, thanks". The friend's husband said "that sounded a little perfunctory", and I said "yes, but if it didn't go, she would have looked up an...

Last night Matt and Angus were out at baseball and I was in the kitchen cooking a bunch of stuff while Eve was reading on the couch. I told her I was just going to go upstairs and wash my face and then we'd have dinner. I took off my apron and threw it over the top of the couch. I kicked off my sandals which I wear in the kitchen because they have orthotics in them and it's better for my feet and back. I walked upstairs and into my bedroom and into the bathroom, stuck a scrunchy in my hair and washed my face. Then I reached for my glasses, because I always wash my face, dry my face, then wash and dry my glasses before putting them back on. No glasses. I looked around, confused. I always put them down to the left of the sink on the counter. I moved the little baskets that have my nail clippers and hair clips and stuff in them. No glasses. I looked to the right of the sink, where my hair dryer and straightener live. No glasses. So now I'm totally confused and also blind...

I've never claimed to only read "worthwhile" literature. I hold hard to my trashy mysteries - okay, I hold hard to my love of mysteries, and when I was younger I read trashy ones, but at this point I try to only read well-written ones. I love science fiction and fantasy and I will go toe-to-toe with anyone who says genre fiction isn't valuable or worthy of respect. But I'm not really an indiscriminate reader, either, although I use it as a label. I don't read much historical fiction or war novels. I don't like hard science fiction. And I don't read "women's fiction", where the main thrust of the plot is women's relationships with other women, or work-life balance, or romance. I always say that it's not that I think less of it, I just have a limited number of books I can read and they're all filled with other types of fiction. The same way I don't shun reality television because I'm above it, I just prefer my ridiculo...

I am a fizzing collection of small bodily irritations. The universe has placed tiny targets on all of my fingernails. A few days ago I smashed my left thumb into the washer, breaking the nail halfway down my thumb. I then managed to jam the tip of a sharp knife right into the wound while making dinner. Turns out I do a LOT OF STUFF with my left thumbnail. How do I clean under the fingernails on my other hand? Do they just have to stay bacteria-ridden until it grows back? It takes me four times as long to get my left contact lens out - I manage to knock it off my pupil but then it gets stuck in the inner corner of my eye and I pry ineptly at it with my poor, blunt, useless thumb. It sucks. Photo from Flickr by Gene Han I have a paper cut that's actually a cut from the lid of one of those plastic clamshell salad containers, which I think we can all agree is MUCH, MUCH worse than a paper cut, on my left index finger (wait, is that the finger beside the thumb? The Peter Pointer...