Girl Detective

#34 in my 2007 movie challenge was Alejandro González Iñárritu’s Babel. I recently watched both Amores Perros (his best film, I thought) and 21 Grams, both of which were good, if often difficult to watch. Midway through Babel, I found myself thinking “I hate this movie; I just hate it.” It was an overlapping narrative concerned with racism and prejudice. The tension centered largely around a woman and children in danger. I’m beyond tired of all those conceits. Yes, there were some good performances here, but this cruel, button-pushing film left a sour taste in my mouth long before the end, when the white people are OK while the people of color are mostly screwed.

#33 in my 2007 movie challenge was For Your Consideration, the latest, and lamest, of Christopher Guest’s mockumentaries, this one about the cast of a small film that begins to get Oscar buzz. Perhaps an insider would find it more funny, but I laughed only twice: at Michael McKean’s “We don’t want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. We’d have a wet and critically injured baby!” and Fred Willard’s mispronunciation of the word gamut in the deleted scenes. Catherine O’Hara gives a cringe-worthy and heartbreaking performance as a long-time character actor, but that wasn’t the tone I was looking for when I selected this movie. I think Guest had real gems with Waiting for Guffman and Best in Show. With FYC and A Mighty Wind, though, I think the hit or miss humor is weighing heavily toward the latter.

#32 in my 2007 movie challenge was Infamous, aka the other movie about Truman Capote. It suffers in comparison to Bennett Miller’s 2005 Capote, but does have its merits, among them Toby Jones’s portrayal of Truman Capote. It takes a different view of the proceedings, and includes entertaining scenes of Capote’s society life in NYC. Disappointing and mostly forgettable otherwise, though.

The Peter Principle is the idea, first formulated for business, that people rise to the level of their incompetence. Most mornings I struggle with the clashes between my sons, 3yo Drake and 15mo Guppy, plus try to meet my basic needs, like breakfast and coffee. Both are either lukewarm or stone cold by the time I get to them.

A friend of a friend (and mother of an only child) once remarked that parents find out how many kids are too many for them after the fact. It’s best to be cautious and not assume that one is having kids, plural. I think about this remark a lot lately, as well as the Peter Principle, and wonder if two kids put me in over my head.

Maybe it’s their ages, maybe it’s their developmental stages, maybe it’s just me. I’m muddling along as best I can, reading Siblings without Rivaly and Raising a Thinking Child. Having a second child, like having the first one, was a huge life change with dramatic impact, both physical and emotional. Some friends say things get better, others say they merely become harder in different ways. Hope and self-learning–they’ve pulled me through life, and they’re pulling me through the screaming and fighting that makes up so much of parenting for me right now.

When I was a kid, I had babysitters. Some were good, some were bad, and in retrospect I’m not sure how any of them managed my two younger sisters and me. I don’t remember us as well-behaved, docile children who played by ourselves.

After my husband G. Grod and I had Drake, now 3yo, we were dismayed to find that babysitters weren’t inexpensive, ubiquitous, and plentiful. G. and I live far from our families (a choice about which they have every right to complain about, and they do), so the usual grandparent and sibling support isn’t there for us on a regular basis.

Instead, we took friends up on their kind offers of help, and began to swap childcare with other families. Finally, though, a trusted friend recommended her cousin, and we had an experienced, reliable college student who could care for Drake, and also baby Guppy after he arrived. Alas, like any personable, intelligent and capable person, she is often busy. I’ve begun to explore other options, and found a handful of resources that I hope will make things clearer:

There are several online sitter reference sites.

National Child Care Information Center’s Children Home Alone and Babysitter Age Guidelines

American Red Cross offers babysitter training courses

“‘Tweens,’ working parents, and summer plans: U parents share approaches to planning for their 8- to 12-year-olds,” an article from UMN News

M, who blogs at Mental Multivitamin, has a wonderful, thought-provoking entry about choosing a positive focus. She avoids the usual saccharine sentiments. Her entry brought Denis Leary’s pithy quote to mind: “Life sucks. Get a helmet.” I was all the more impressed when I read his wife’s book, and learned he wrote that after the extremely premature birth of his first son. Life is hard; the key is not to get mired in ruts, and most certainly not to decorate them.

Thanks, M., for the always helpful reminder that perception is a variable thing. In honor of that, I wanted to say a quick thanks for a handful of things that make the rough stuff more surmountable. In no particular order, a list of 10 (that goes to 11):

1. My husband, who makes me a kick-ass cappuccino almost every morning, and who empties the dishwasher before I get up, so I don’t have to.

2. My friends, new and old, virtual and non-, who are supportive and generous.

3. My family, who I appreciate more, and more of whom I appreciate, as I grow older.

4. Olay Regenerist products.

5. Maybelline’s Define a Lash mascara. The pretty green tube houses a great, everyday product.

6. Sonia Kashuk eyeliners and lipstick. Good quality and colors, cheap!

7. The Loft Literary Center. I wouldn’t be a writer without it.

8. My sons. By turns maddening and inspiring. Oh, how they make me learn. I’m glad for that, even though sometimes growth=pain.

9. Good books, television and movies.

10. My public library.

11. My grocery cooperative.

#31 in my 2007 film challenge was The Lives of Others, and it was just fabulous. See this film. A complex character study as well as a history lesson, it is a challenging, provoking work that gives credit to the viewer by not over-explaining its excellent, exquisitely wrought details. I was happy to spend $12 on a ticket and popcorn (real butter! with dark chocolate M & Ms mixed in by me!) to see this film in a theater.

Reminder: I set this film challenge for myself after having my first child. I love films, so I make seeing them a priority. My children are not excuses to forego things that I love. They just make me work harder for them; thus I appreciate them more.

#30 in my 2007 movie challenge was Infernal Affairs, the Hong Kong movie that Scorcese remade as The Departed. When I saw The Departed earlier this year, I liked it a lot, and I thought DiCaprio especially did a great job. Seeing IA has given another dimension to my experience of TD, which I’ll discuss after I get through telling you how great IA is.

Two kids go undercover, one criminal into the police, one police cadet into crime. Both rise in the ranks, and in the esteem of their bosses. IA is a tight, stylish film that doesn’t miss a beat–the music, the editing, the small details that clue the viewer in but aren’t hammered home. While Andew Lau and Tony Leung are compelling as the leads, the rest of the cast also shines, most notably their two bosses and Leung’s dimwitted criminal colleague. This is a bittersweet, smart tale, told exceptionally well.

By comparison, TD’s merits have dimmed for me. Much of what was good about Scorcese’s film was taken from the original, such as the cat and mouse scenes between the two moles. Jack Nicholson was miscast, and his analog in IA, played by Eric Tsang, only underscores that. Further, Scorcese lengthened the script by 50(!) minutes, most of which was to overexplain things that were done with skill and subtlety in IA. Martin Sheen was good as DiCaprio’s father figure, but Anthony Wong as SP Wong was better in IA. I still think DiCaprio did a great acting job, but seeing IA made it clear that he had the most sympathetic role. Lau and Damon had the thankless task of embodying an almost unempathizable character. Two female charactes from IA were needlessly, and less believably, condensed into the same person in TD, though played well by Vera Farmiga. The Departed was a good film. DiCaprio and Damon were very good, but the standout of the film was Mark Wahlberg. That role and his performance were original to Scorcese’s film, and truly great.

Some things demand an exclamation point. This day is one.

[Caution: if you're here looking for an intellectual entry, this isn't it. This is the purview of mommy blogs. But I must celebrate; I hope you can share my joy.]

As Drake walked out the door of preschool, he said, “I have to go potty.”

My eyes widened in surprise. Drake was wearing a pull-up diaper. He had never before said that phrase while wearing a pull-up diaper.

“Sure, honey!” I replied, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. I’ve been disappointed so many times before.

We went back into the building. He went into the girls bathroom. I didn’t re-direct him. I asked if he wanted help.

“No, Mom, I need some privacy,” he said, having learned that phrase from a toilet-using friend.

I peered anxiously under the stall door as he pulled down his shorts, then his diaper, and sat on the regular-size toilet. I heard the sound of pee. (I also heard the sound of 15M Guppy screaming right behind me. He was immune to the significance of what was transpiring.)

“He’s never said that before,” said his preschool teacher, standing behind me. “Not in all the months he’s been here, not in all the times that the other kids have gone. Never.” Her voice echoed the awe I was feeling.

Once home, Drake did a repeat performance, unprompted.

During his quiet time, I began to compose this entry. Then he began banging on his door, his unsubtle sign that he wishes quiet time to be over. We went downstairs together. I asked if he would like underwear or a pull up.

“I would like some air time, Mom.”

We weren’t seated for many minutes in the basement before he announced that he needed to pee.

“You know where the bathroom is,” I said. “Let me know if you need help.”

He disappeared down the hallway. A few moments later he called out.

“I peed, Mom! And I pooped!”

I leapt off the couch, but again tried to diminish expectations. I’d had my hopes dashed so many times before. But my fears were unfounded; my hopes were realized. Drake had gone to the bathroom by himself. I reminded him to flush and wash his hands. I asked if he remembered what I said would happen if he went by himself. He paused, and a big grin came over his face.

“Mack!”

I went to my secret-squirrel hiding place, and brought back Mack. We called Drake’s dad to share the good news. And Drake is now happily playing with Mack as I write and edit this entry.

It may be some time before either event happens again. Drake still refuses to put on either a pull on or underwear; he’s going to have to cover up eventually. There will also be accidents and regressions. But no one can take today away from me.

Oddly enough, I had a related dream last night. I rarely recall dreams in the morning, and have never had a prophetic one. But in last night’s dream, I was complaining to a friend about Drake’s refusal to use the toilet.

“I understood when he was two that he might need more time than other kids. But I hardly expected him to be NEARLY FOUR and still in diapers. Everyone says he won’t start kindergarten in diapers. But I’ve seen nothing to give me hope,” wailed my dream self.

Oh, me of little faith. Way to go, Drake. Thank you for showing me, yet again, that you are on your own, unique time line. If I can remember and respect that, instead of fighting it, we’ll both be a lot happier.

A few more ideas occurred to me that might make good gifts for the moms in your life.

Noise Reducing Headphones Not for walking out on the street, but oh, wouldn’t these be nice at home?

Nice Watch So Mom can take off the battered, bathproof Timex that keeps track of timeouts and falling-asleep intervals. My husband and I are fans of Nixon watches, which they sell locally at Lava Lounge.

Teapot and Loose-Leaf Tea Twin Cities treasure Tea Source ships! They carry single-person pots that hold enough water for about two and a half cups. The House Earl Grey is wonderful; I get raves every time I serve it. I also like their herbal tisanes (see their informative site to find out why herbal “teas” aren’t really tea). My longtime favorite is Evening in Missoula. I also like Starfire Licorice, Margaret’s Soother, and Earl Red.

During the hospital program I attended for post-partum depression and anxiety, we had two classes on relaxation with guided imagery. On my last day of the program we listened to a soothing CD whose narrator took us through the stages of relaxation. Toward the end, the narrator instructed us to imagine a beautiful gold box was sitting next to us, tied with a luxurious silk ribbon.

Wow, I thought, that reminds me a lot of the turning point in David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive. My mind started wandering in that direction; I drew it back to the sound of the narrator’s voice.

“Now imagine that you’re opening the box,” she said. “And what’s inside the box is whatever it is that you really, really want and need right now.”

What came to my mind at that instance? World peace? Personal peace? Patience? Health? Happiness?

No. I opened my imaginary box and found a John Hughes DVD box set. I burst out laughing, which I’m sure disturbed some of my more relaxed and meditative compatriots.

So, there we have it, folks. When given the choice of anything in the world, my relaxed meditative self said she wanted to watch 80’s teen dramedies. I’m not sure if this is humorous, pathetic, or both.

There are two(!) John Hughes DVD sets: Too Cool for School, which includes Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Some Kind of Wonderful, and Pretty in Pink; and The Brat Pack, with The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, and Sixteen Candles.

Did you think Mothers Day was invented by Hallmark? It’s been around for longer than that. Some research dates it back to Cybele (pronounced with a hard C, short Y and long E at the end: KIH-buh-Lee) worship in ancient Greece. The American version is largely based on a post-Civil War peace manifesto. The English version, Mothering Sunday, was reportedly begun so working class domestics could have at least one Sunday off a year to visit their mums, and so the mums could have off to receive the visits. Whatever the origin, though, there’s little disagreement that mothering is a tough gig, and few begrudge moms the day as tribute to that.

Some very good news for moms: the Mommy War is more a media invention than an accurate portrait of reality:

Most women today have to work: it’s the only way their families are going to be fed, housed and educated. A new college-educated generation takes it for granted that women will both work and care for their families — and that men must be an integral part of their children’s lives. It’s a generation that understands that stay-at-home moms and working mothers aren’t firmly opposing philosophical stances but the same women in different life phases, moving in and out of the part-time and full-time workforce for the few years while their children are young.

In this week leading up to Mothers Day in America, think about the mothers in your life. Not just your mom, or your spouse’s mom, but all the mothers: friends, siblings, co-workers, neighbors. Give a mom a break this week. If you hear a screaming kid and judgment flashes through your brain, offer help instead. And think of pretty, comforting things, big or small, that might make a mom’s day a bit brighter:

Card Papyrus carries, and Marcel Shurman makes, lovely ones.

Flowers I love yellow roses and dislike lilies. Do your loved one a favor. Ask what she likes, and avoid carnations, daisies, baby’s breath, and alstroemeria, unless specifially requested. Gerbera daisies are an exception.

Chocolate Twin Citian’s are fortunate to have both B.T. McElrath (I love the passionfruit and dark chocolate truffles) and Legacy Chocolates (Potion No. 9) readily available.

Accessories Little blue box or big orange box, brand recognition can be a lovely thing. I love the blue/green En Duo ribbon pattern.

Books I recently recommended Jill Murphy’s Five Minutes’ Peace and Kate Atkinson’s Behind the Scenes at the Museum. Both take wry looks at the mundane reality of mothering small children, though Atkinson’s book is both funny and tragic. For self-examination and spiritual growth, I recommend Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Gift cards for www.amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Border’s, or your local book shop are always good ideas.

Ice Cream Did you know that you can get Graeter’s ice cream shipped? Now you do. The chocolate chip flavors are stunning.

Ice Cream, Again Twin Citians, you’ve got a lot to love.

Fancy Dinner at the best restaurant in your city. Twin Citians, this is ours.

Music Fun and Booty-Shakin’ (Justin Timberlake’s FutureSex/Lovesounds), Local (new Low album!), Singer/Songwriter male (Rufus Wainwright’s Release the Stars), Singer/Songwriter female (Patti Griffin’s Children Running Through), Sophomore effort (Arctic Monkeys’ Favourite Worst Nightmare)

Movies Go out to a theater that serves good popcorn with real butter (Heights, Riverview, or GTI Roseville in the Twin Cities), or stay in and watch the vastly underrated Children of Men, Alfonso Cuaron’s chilling look at a future without mothers.

If you have other ideas, email me and I’ll post them, too.

My unexpected gift, today? That baby Guppy is still napping, which has allowed me the time I needed for this link-a-palooza.

And if you were bothered by my lack of apostrophe in Mothers Day, get over it. Apostrophes are one of the most misused and unnecessary pieces of punctuation. Here’s a long explanation of why I can leave them out. But do you get what I mean when I say Mothers Day? Then you see my point.

#29 in my 2007 movie challenge was A Better Way to Die, the oldest thing on my Tivo. My husband G. Grod refused to watch it again, but my visiting sister, Sydney, had not seen it. It’s set in our small hometown, and Scott Wiper, (whose current movie is getting creamed by the critics) was a classmate of our sister’s and the actor, writer, and director. A second viewing only confirmed the opinions I had the first time I saw ABWtD: Wiper can direct at a good clip, but his story and dialogue sometimes strain belief, and his acting and voice can’t carry the movie. Lou Diamond Phillips is unbelievable and stiff as a main character, and Natasha Henstridge is the requisite hot actress who does a love scene, then provides a motive for Wiper’s Boomer to get angry and vengeful. Sometimes it fairly crackled with humor, though. Joe Pantoliano stood out in a short amount of screentime, and Andre Braugher elevates this movie beyond mediocrity. A Better Way to Die has some sharp one liners, a fast pace, and crisp direction. It’s a decent B movie.

#28 in my 2007 movie challenge was director Gillies MacKinnon’s Regeneration, based on Pat Barker’s excellent historical novel of the same name, and released in the U.S. as Behind the Lines. Like many book adaptations, Regeneration’s reach exceeds its grasp. The movie unsuccessfully crams in too many elements of the book, and ends up doing justice to very few of them. As an illustration of the book, it is well cast. Jonathan Pryce is Capt. William Rivers, a pioneer in psychology. Jonny Lee Miller (an ex-husband of Angelina Jolie, and business partner of Ewan MacGregor and Jude Law) does a good job as Billy Prior, one of my favorite fictional characters, though the film glances over or omits many of his myriad complexities. Tanya Allen is sweet and sympathetic as his girlfriend Sarah. Many films have tried to capture the physical experience of combat; Regeneration excels as an exploration of the psychological effects of warfare. There are very good things here, but not enough of them for me to strongly recommend the film. The book, however, is one of my all-time favorites.

The first Saturday in May is Free Comic Book Day. Visit your local comic store to pick up a free comic book. Many have been created just for the day, so they’re not just 25 cent-ers. I plan on picking up Comics Festival! 2007, Whiteout, Nexus, and Owly. I highly recommend Whiteout and Nexus.

Find your local comic shop by visiting the Comic Shop Locator. Do not be afraid. The Simpsons guy is an exaggeration. Free Comic Book Day was created for comic book geeks (like me) and neophytes as well.

If you’re in the Twin Cities, visit the best comic shop, Big Brain Comics, on Washington Avenue by The Loft and Grumpy’s.

Reading, Discussion, & Book Signing with John Scalzi, who writes The Whatever and is a SF author on the rise*

Saturday, May 5, 2007
1:00pm

Uncle Hugo’s
2864 Chicago Avenue South
Minneapolis, MN 55407
(612) 824-6347

*Event in conjunction with author Tate Hallaway

#27 in my 2007 movie challenge would have been Batman Begins, but I couldn’t stay awake for the ending. (I was more impressed when I saw it in theater.) So #27 is The Lake House, or “Magic Mailbox,” as NYT film critic A.O. Scott quipped. Ebert and Roeper liked it when it came out last year, so in spite of the mixed reviews of others (unlike the guy in Metropolitan–which is an adaptation of Austen’s Mansfield Park; I didn’t know that!–I read reviews and read books/see movies) we decided to give it a try. I’m glad I did. This was a sweet romance. Bullock and Reeves inhabit the titular house at different points, but they share a dog and a mailbox that defy the space/time continuum. I was surprised at how decent this was, and that it didn’t suck. While those sound like faint praise, they’re not. There was a nice theme about Jane Austen’s Persuasion running through it, and while they didn’t get the parallel exactly right, it was pretty close. This was a gentle, heartening movie that was good at the end of a frazzling day. The weird things that bothered me? The actor who played Reeves’s brother, Ebon Moss-Bachrach, had a very strange hairline. And Keanu Reeves in a turtleneck sweater, or perhaps any man, for that matter? No. Just, no.

A member of my writing group arrived last night saying she’d suffered a week of serious doubt: was her manuscript ever going to be finished, would it amount to anything?, would it be published, what was the point of it all?

The rest of us laughed sympathetically; we’d been in that writing slump before, and we will be again.

Later, as we were chatting about the books we were reading (because reading is an integral part of writing; it’s the yin to the yang), the doubting writer noted that she’d recently finished two books by Margaret Atwood, who she’d not read before. After a long period of avoiding Oryx and Crake for her book group, because she didn’t like futuristic fantasy, she finally began it, and was swept away and won over. She followed that by picking up Atwood’s Blind Assassin.

Aha, I said, seeing the connection. “Did you have your writing crisis after reading Atwood?”

“Well, yes, I guess I did,” she said.

“I did the exact same thing after I finished Alias Grace,” I told her.

Atwood is like a goddess of writing. We mere mortals pale in comparison. We should instead admire and learn.

While I haven’t read either of the titles that my friend did, I highly recommend The Handmaid’s Tale, The Robber Bride, and especially Alias Grace. Cat’s Eye is an embarrassingly longtime denizen of my to-read shelf. To read excerpts of several Atwood books, visit The Daily Book Excerpt at The Sheila Variations.

I visited Pumphouse Creamery, at 48th and Chicago in Minneapolis, soon after it opened, when I was pregnant with Drake. None of the flavors at that time spoke to me. I asked the person behind the counter for a recommendation; he suggested strawberry. I had high hopes of the place, since one of the Twin Cities weird strengths is awesome ice cream with fabulous flavors. (Don’t believe me? I find your lack of faith disturbing; see below*.) Pumphouse, adjacent to longtime local treasure Turtle Bread Co., and using local, organic cream and ingredients, seemed like it would be a slam dunk.

I ate the strawberry ice cream in disappointed disbelief, and raged to my husband G. Grod, “How can this ice cream be disappointing? I love ice cream even when I’m NOT pregnant! It’s local! It’s organic! It’s fresh! What’s wrong?” I ignored Pumphouse for nearly four years in favor of other local ice cream parlors*.

Last night, though, I happened to be at Turtle Bread and decided to give Pumphouse another try. Oh, happy day! Not only did many of the flavors speak to me, but they fairly started an argument over which of them I should try. In the end, I chose a double of Lemon Curd and Blueberry Buttermilk over the Cookies and Cream made with one of my favorite food groups, Newman Os. I can’t speak for what I didn’t choose, but the double scoop was a delight. Sweet blueberry enlivened with the tang of buttermilk, contrasted with the tart, creamy richness of lemon curd.

YUM. Check out Pumphouse.

*My favorite Twin Cities Awesome Independent Ice Cream parlors, and some of my favorite flavors:

Crema Cafe (Cardamom/Black Pepper)
Sebastian Joe’s–this year’s City Pages Best Ice Cream Parlor (Pavarotti: Caramel, Banana and Chocolate; Raspberry Chocolate Chip)
Izzy’s (Oh, the adorable Izzy scoop; it makes choosing both easier and harder. And the Izzy Pops! Tiny scoops of different flavors dipped in B.T. McElrath dark chocolate and put on a stick–so Minnesotan!)
Adele’s Frozen Custard (not technically ice cream, but worth the trip)

#26 in my 2007 movie challenge, Shadow of a Doubt may well be the favorite Hitchcock movie of the sixteen* I’ve seen. It’s in black and white, and stars Teresa Wright as a small-town teenager whose uncle Charlie, for whom she is named, may be hiding something. Charlie is alerted to her uncle’s possible wrongdoings, and then goes all girl detective as she seeks, and fails, to prove his innocence. Joseph Cotten is appropriately creepy as the uncle, and veers scarily between animated interactions with young Charlie’s family, and monotone threats to himself, the detectives, and the newly clued-in young Charlie. Hitch gives the viewer a credible psychological backstory for Uncle C, as well as squirm-inducing scenes of Uncle C manhandling young C that imply far more than they show. The movie tells a good story with suspense, and Hitch hasn’t yet cemented his famous fetishes, like torturing pretty blonds, that were unpleasant hallmarks of his later films. What I noticed on this viewing was how masterfully Hitch ratcheted up the anxiety of the viewer using domestic commonplaces like a Martha-ish mom and bickering small children. It was strangely affirming to my current struggles with depression and anxiety to see the darker side of domesticity.

*The 39 Steps
The Lady Vanishes
Rebecca
Foreign Correspondent
Shadow of a Doubt
Spellbound
Notorious
Rope
Dial M for Murder
Rear Window
To Catch a Thief
Vertigo
North by Northwest
Psycho
The Birds
Marnie