Girl Detective

#49 in my book challenge for the year, and #25 in my summer reading challenge was the YA novel Satellite Down by Rob Thomas, the writer/creator of the shows Cupid and Veronica Mars. I didn’t expect to like this book, as I was feeling rather fatigued after my run of high school boy books. But when I started, I was immediately drawn to the character of Patrick and his sudden switch from a student in small town Texas to a reporter for a fictionalized Channel One. Patrick’s adventures in LA, and his changes and insights are engaging and sympathetic. But in the last 70 pages, the book takes a sudden turn, and winds down to an even more abrupt ending that feels either tacked on, or like the author or editor just decided to stop the book at a certain page number. I really enjoyed the first 230 pages of this book, but the last 70 left me surprised and disappointed.

#48 in my book challenge for the year, and #24 in my summer reading challenge was We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier, a recommendation from Michael Cart’s history of YA, From Romance to Realism. We All Fall Down is a tightly written, hard to put down novel about the effects of violence. A family’s house is trashed, and a daughter is left in a coma. The novel switches views among her sister, one of the trashers, and a witness to the event. Each character is troubled in realistic ways, and the ending manages to be both redemptive and dark. There was a surprise that I was expecting, though, so that wasn’t effective for me. The strong plot, writing and characters all contributed to a novel that I’d recommend for older audiences, not just for young adults.

These quotes from Helene Hanff, excerpted at Mental Multivitamin, resonated with me:

It’s against my principles to buy a book I haven’t read, it’s like buying a dress you haven’t tried on (84 Charing Cross Road)

I despair of ever getting through anybody’s head I am not interested in bookshops, I am interested in what’s written in the books. I don’t browse in bookshops, I browse in libraries, where you can take a book home and read it, and if you like it you go to a bookshop and buy it. (The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street)

This year I’m trying to make a dent in the books I’ve purchased over the years but not yet read. Progress is slow. After I acquire a book, some of the thrill is gone; reading it feels like an obligation, not a joy. Space is limited. So is time. I run afoul of the reserve system at the library, too. The ease, and the free-ness of it are seductive. But if I use the library carefully, and thoughtfully, and with Hanff’s habit in mind of reading a book first to audition it for the home collection, I can be the reader (and consumer) I aspire to be.

Drake had his third birthday over the weekend. In honor of the occasion, I made Boston Cream Cupcakes, which I’ve been dying to try since I saw the picture in the June/July issue of Cook’s Country. They were time intensive, but not difficult, and worth the effort for a special occasion.

Boston Cream Cupcakes
from Cook’s Country 6/2006

Bake the cupcakes in a greased and floured muffin tin rather than paper cupcake liners so the chocolate glaze can run down the sides of the cooled cakes.

Makes 12

Pastry Cream
1 1/3 cups heavy cream
3 large egg yolks
1/3 cup sugar
Pinch table salt
1 tablespoon cornstarch plus 1 additional teaspoon
2 tablespoons cold unsalted butter , cut into 2 pieces
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Cupcakes
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour , plus additional for dusting muffin tin
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon table salt
1 cup sugar
12 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 1/2 sticks), softened but still cool, cut into 12 pieces
3 large eggs
3/4 cup milk
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Chocolate Glaze
3/4 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup light corn syrup
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate , chopped
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. For the pastry cream: Heat cream in medium saucepan over medium heat until simmering, stirring occasionally. Meanwhile, whisk egg yolks, sugar, and salt together in medium bowl. Add cornstarch and whisk until mixture is pale yellow and thick, about 15 seconds.

2. When cream reaches full simmer, slowly whisk it into yolk mixture. Return mixture to saucepan and cook over medium heat, whisking constantly, until thick and glossy, about 1 1/2 minutes. Off heat, whisk in butter and vanilla. Transfer pastry cream to small bowl, press plastic wrap directly on surface, and refrigerate until cold and set, at least 2 hours or up to 2 days.

3. For the cupcakes: Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Spray muffin tin with cooking spray, flour generously, and tap pan to remove excess flour.

4. With electric mixer on low speed, combine flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar in large bowl. Add butter, one piece at a time, and combine until mixture resembles coarse sand. Add eggs, one at a time, and mix until combined. Add milk and vanilla, increase speed to medium, and mix until light and fluffy and no lumps remain, about 3 minutes.

5. Fill muffin cups three-quarters full (do not overfill). Bake until toothpick inserted in center of cupcake comes out clean, 18 to 20 minutes. Cool cupcakes in pan 5 minutes, then transfer them to rack to cool completely.

6. For the glaze: Cook cream, corn syrup, chocolate, and vanilla in small saucepan over medium heat, stirring constantly, until smooth. Set glaze aside to cool and thicken for 30 minutes.

7. Prepare and fill cupcakes as shown in photos 1 through 4. Refrigerate until just set, about 10 minutes. (Cupcakes can be refrigerated for up to 2 days; bring to room temperature before serving.)

STEP BY STEP: How to Make Boston Cream Cupcakes

1. Insert the tip of a small knife at a 45-degree angle about 1/8 inch from the edge of the cupcake and cut all the way around, removing a cone of cake.
2. Cut away all but the top 1/4 inch of the cone, leaving only a small disk of cake.
3. Fill the cupcake with 2 tablespoons pastry cream and top with the disk of cake.
4. Set the filled cupcakes on a wire rack set over parchment paper. Spoon 2 tablespoons of glaze over each cupcake, allowing it to drip down the sides.

#47 in my reading challenge for the year, and #23 in my summer reading challenge by The Perks of Being a Wallflower. If I were in a different, more generous mood I might like this book more. But I’m not, and it struck me as precious. The main character, Charlie, is so stunted emotionally and socially that he reminded me strongly of the main character of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. The ending, which purported to explain some of Charlie’s behaviors, felt contrived. Also annoying was the conceit for the structure, which is Charlie writing letters to a stranger, and supposedly hiding people’s identities. So is his real name Charlie? Do the other characters have different names, or details than what is included in the story? The idea of the anonymous letters is more than awkward; it defies belief. If you’re looking for a high-school-boy book, King Dork, Catcher in the Rye, and Black Swan Green are all more worthy of your time.

#46 in my book challenge for the year, and #22 in my summer reading challenge, was Monkey Island by Paula Fox. It’s a short, spare novel about a young boy forced to live on his own. The prose, like the story, is simple and stark. The story doesn’t pull punches, and the ending is redemptive but not at all artificial. Like Baby by Patricia MacLachlan, Monkey Island is a book for kids that is well written enough for all ages. It deals with dark stuff, but in truthful ways that are never cheap or gratuitous. A lot of popular young adult novels or novels for older kids are poorly written. There’s a common, not undeserved, perception that children’s and YA novels are not good enough to be marketed to adults. Books like this show what a reductive understanding that is.

I took Drake and Guppy in for their checkups last week, and left with a long list of things that I should be doing, or doing differently or more often. Guppy hadn’t gained weight since his last appointment, so I should start him on solids. Drake doesn’t listen and talks back, so I should read a book. Guppy needs vitamins. I shouldn’t try to bargain with Drake to eat. Guppy isn’t sitting up. Drake should have access to craft materials like paints and crayons.

Of course, there’s a flip side to each of these, as I explained to our doctor. Guppy hasn’t gained weight because he’s sleeping through the night, so he’s eating less frequently. Drake doesn’t listen and talks back, and my reading a book probably isn’t going to change his personality, or the fact that he’s three. Guppy’s vitamins aren’t carried at Target, so they require a special trip, plus they stain and are fascinating to Drake, who runs off with the bottle and its non-child-proof cap. I know I should just put healthful food in front of Drake and let him be, but sometimes his attention wanders, and he needs to be reminded about the food. Guppy isn’t sitting up because that requires fairly constant supervision, which is tough for me to guarantee, with Drake’s short attention span. And finally, we do have crayons and colored pencils, but I put them out of reach because Drake just peels the paper off the former (I think he thinks they’re like bananas) and snaps the tips off the latter.

Since both my boys are awesome (I won’t bore you with the details. Anyway, aren’t my incompetencies more interesting than any bragging I could do?), there’s no way I can be as incompetent a mother as I feel like I am. I think receiving the advice for both boys at once made it feel more overwhelming. Perspective will return sometime soon.

Reality television should come with a warning label. I’ve managed to avoid it almost entirely, then a friend who loves Project Runway started inviting people over. Now I’m hooked. Healthy? Probably not. Entertaining? Hell, yeah.

The group I watch with has nicknames for many of the designers: Blondie (Alison), Square Head (Robert), Meth Man (Bradley), Tattoo Neck (Steven), Ohio (Angela), Basket Hat (Vincent). In the short time I’ve been watching, I see a disturbing mini trend, and it’s not about fashion. In Season 3, episode 4, “Reap What You Sew”, the designers were divided into teams to create a look for Macy’s owned brand, INC. Bonnie’s and Robert’s designs were the two worst. Robert’s had an ugly jacket, a shapeless top, and a skirt with a back slit unwearably high. Bonnie’s also had a jacket, though not as bad as Robert’s, over a cowl neck, and pants that the judge Nina sneered looked cheap. Bonnie was criticized for not being fashion forward enough, and she was cut. I thought Robert’s outfit was much worse–ugly, mismatched, and poorly made. The implication is it’s better to wear a jumbled attempt at fashion than a more conservative ensemble.

On last night’s episode, “Waste Not, Want Not”, Alison and Vincent’s designs were voted the two worst. The judges noted that the model could not walk in Vincent’s dress, and wondered why he hadn’t made it a mini dress. But the vitriol heaped on Alison seemed far greater than she deserved. Her constructed paper dress wasn’t great, but its unforgiveable sin was that it didn’t flatter the model. “She looks like a plus model,” Heidi Klum spit out. Michael Kors said he couldn’t believe a woman designer would do such a thing. So while Vincent was merely chastised, Alison was sent home. The implication is it’s better to wear something ugly in which you can’t move than wear something not ugly that isn’t slimming.

In both episodes, the male designer made the uglier, less wearable outfit. Yet the female designer was voted out. While it would be foolish to criticize a fashion show for valuing style over substance, I didn’t see style in either Robert’s jacket outfit, or Vincent’s weird art dress. Maybe they’re favoring the men designers over the women. More likely, though, they’re favoring stronger personalities over weaker ones, as noted by Manolo the Shoeblogger.

Then again, that wouldn’t explain the choice of the winning design, though. For the second week in a row, supposedly nice guy Michael Knight’s design won. While it was good, and won the coveted comment of “I’d wear that” from the judges, our group thought bellicose Tattoo Neck Steven’s design had the most style and substance.

My son Drake is nearly 3 years old, my baby Guppy is 6 months old. Much of my day is spent caring for them in very basic ways–making sure they’re dressed, fed, and safe. While this often is challenging, it also weights very heavily toward the mundane, which is one reason I set book and movie goals for myself. I don’t want my brain to shrivel up and fall out of my ear.

There are, however, compensating joys. Not as frequent as the diapers, tantrums, et. al. But also of a different nature, so that I’m not tempted to tally and compare them. The other day I was trying to get us out the door, and was running late as usual. I was trying to get myself ready, while Guppy’s cries escalated, when Drake poked his head in the bathroom and asked me to read him Frederick. “I can’t right now, honey,” I said, my voice high and frantic. “Why don’t you read it to Guppy. He sounds sad. That would be a big help.” I never expected it to work. But Drake plopped down in the hall, opened Frederick, and started to “read” aloud. Agape, I stopped getting ready, and peered into the hall. Guppy had stopped crying and was looking avidly at Drake, who I discovered had memorized several pages of the not text-light book. He went on for a few pages, then closed the book and said to Guppy, “We’ll stop there for now.”

Then Guppy started to cry again, and I was still not ready, because I’d been staring at him in joy and wonder. I told him he’d done a good job, and thanked him for being a good brother. And we eventually got out the door.

I forget how long ago it was that I bought a neti pot, but it was many years. It might’ve been during my pregnancy with Drake when I had a cold and was all “oh, I can’t take conventional drugs.” (As opposed to my pregnancy with Guppy, during which I was sick all the time, and was not nearly so cautious–Dimetapp, Robitussin, Pepcid, Tums, echinacea, zinc…) I tried the neti pot, nearly drowned at my own hand, then put it away, thinking to myself, “crazy alternative therapies.”

Recently, my nose has been in bad shape due to hot summer, allergies, and air conditioning. It was both dried out and stuffed up. I decided to give the neti pot another try. I followed the directions and the ridiculous picture of the girl pouring salt water through her nose and smiling, and this time it worked! It didn’t feel pleasant, but I poured salt water in one nostril and it came out the other. Then Drake came in to see what I was doing, and I had to smile just like the women in the picture so he wouldn’t be alarmed, but then he wanted to use it, and I had to explain that, like fancy chocolate, gum and lipstick, neti pots are just for mommies.

After the neti pot, I felt a little wet down deep in the ears (during his bath, when he gets water in his ears, Drake says, “I have diapers in my ears.”) but that passed quickly, and then my nose felt great–clear on both sides, moisturized, fresh–like it had been to a spa. I’ve used it a few more times, and while it still feels like I’m wilfully choking myself with salt water, my nose feels much better. So: crazy but effective alternative therapy.

A long time ago, I fretted over Drake’s pronoun confusion. He got you and I mixed up, and forget about he and she; they’re still all over the place. Recently, Drake has begun narrating his life, eschewing pronouns, but still in third person. For example, in the bath he cried, “Stop washing me, yelled my mom!” Running around the house: “I’m chasing, shouted my dad!”

Odd, but amusing.

I think Drake and Guppy require re-entry each week back to our routine after the weekend, thus I find it hard to write on Mondays. So until I get a fortuitous naptime, here are links to letters I wrote to the author at Mental Multivitamin, one on housework (among other things), the other on Caitlyn Flanagan’s and Linda Hirshman’s books, showing that I haven’t really opted out of commenting on the Mommy Wars, I just don’t necessarily do it here.

#45 in my book challenge for the year, and #21 in my summer book challenge, Intuition by Allegra Goodman, was recommended with reservations by a member of my writing group. Interestingly, she didn’t tell me what her reservations were, so I read with extra awareness to how it was written. I found it a good book, worth reading, but with some significant problems as well. I was also reminded that in nearly every book I read, there is some very small thing that I quibble over, even if I love the book, so I’ll leave that for the end.

What works: Intuition is the story of group of postdocs, once of whose work begins to show results. The positive results are a mixed blessing, though, as tensions begin to arise among the various strong personalities. Goodman has written a huge cast of characters, most of whom are complexly drawn, and all of whom interact in interesting and believable ways. Their various experiences and points of view give the reader multiple views into the plot, as in Rashomon. The plot clips along at a strong pace, as events seem to take on a life of their own. At the end, everyone is both better and worse off, and two of the main female characters are perhaps the only ones to gain significant self insight.

What didn’t work: The cast was so big that there was no way to adequately characterize all the characters, and some of them appeared conveniently, then disappeared. The omniscient point of view was sometimes dizzying and distracting, as the narrative would swoop among several characters within a chapter. Additionally, there was a great deal of narration of what each of the characters was feeling or thinking. Sometimes this felt like good characterization, other times it felt like “telling”. The characters and the story might better have been served with more narrative and less character description.

The tiny thing that annoyed me a lot: The font of the pages numbers was different from that of the text, and it was hard to read–a poor design choice.

#46 in my movie challenge for the year was What’s Cooking. I recorded it for two Thanksgivings ago, and we finally felt like watching it nowhere near holiday season. It’s a decent holiday flick, switching between four LA families, one Jewish, Latino, African American, and Chinese. Each family has drama for both the parents and the children, and each family has different food and ways to celebrate. It’s overlong at about two hours, and some of the drama and performances are forced, but it’s got some sweet and funny moments that make it worthwhile, and nothing so over-the-top dreadful as what usually gets churned out by the studios each year.

#44 in my book challenge for the year, and #20 in my summer reading challenge, was Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. Since it’s been sitting on my shelf for about four years, it’s a good reminder that I should not buy books on impulse. It is appropriately epic in scope, for a sprawling tale of Calliope/Cal Stephanides, a genetic boy raised as a girl. (Calliope is the muse of epic poetry.) It is touching, frequently funny, and crowded with memorable characters. It’s a family history as well as an investigation into identity, sex, gender, and history. There’s much to enjoy while reading, and much to ruminate on once it’s done. The non-linear narrative helped make the long book go quickly, though a few times it made me wonder at things that didn’t quite match up.

I think there’s a tendency in childcare books and in advice of extremes. One camp says babies are evil geniuses, adept at manipulating their caring, sleep-deprived parents. The other says babies are like little buddhas, who know exactly what they need, if only their parents are attuned enough to divine it. The reality, of course, is much more murky and middle ground. It also changes as babies get older, and can learn cause and effect.

Our first parenting book was the Dr. Sears Baby Book. Initially, I thought it was great. I aspired to be an attachment parent. I had not, however, consulted Drake about this. Drake did not like the sling. Drake did not like to be held. And Drake would not, could not, sleep. I consulted the Sears Baby Book, where it said disparaging things about sleep training, and that it set children up for unhealthy dependencies later in life. It was not what I needed to hear at the end of my rope. Next, I consulted The No-Cry Sleep Solution by Elizabeth Pantley. It also disparaged the so-called sleep-training books as cruel. I read it, I tried its recommendations, but Drake’s sleep did not improve. Finally, I took the advice of our pediatrician, and I purchased the book of the sleep trainer the other books reviled: Dr. Ferber. I read the book, and was shocked at how reasonable it was. I’d expected some baby-ignoring devil based on what I’d read in Pantley and Sears. My husband and I followed the advice in the Ferber book, and finally Drake’s sleep improved. He liked to go to bed, and he slept well once there.

It was the Ferber book I opened when Guppy began to wake more often, at about four months. I supplemented it with a book by Jodi Mindell, billed elsewhere as a “kinder, gentler Ferber” though I found it so nearly the same I’m surprised at the lack of attribution. This time, I tried to approach it more like sleep learning than sleep training. We checked on Guppy at lengthening intervals. I decreased the duration of night feedings by a minute a night. I stopped nursing him right before bed and directly after waking to differentiate those events. Gradually, Guppy learned not only to fall asleep by himself, but that waking did not mean nursing. Within days, he was sleeping longer and waking less. Guppy did cry more for a time, which set the rest of us on edge. Faced with little sleep and much crying, it was often difficult to determine the best thing to do. But now we are all four doing much better than we were a month ago.

Drake, at nearly three, talks a lot. He lisps over his Ls and Ss, but for all that I agonized over his late start talking, he’s pretty clear now. One word, though, remains charmingly babyish. The hot weather has spurred me to keep the blender out for frequent smoothies. Drake just can’t get his palate around the word, so he pronounces it “foozie”. I know it will change eventually, just like cats went from being “beows” to “meows” to “cats”. So I don’t correct him; I’m going to enjoy listening to him say “foozie” as long as it lasts.

#s 44 and 45 in my movie challenge for the year were, respectively, The Graduate and Rumor Has It. The Graduate is not long, but moves slow. My dad and mom saw this while she was pregnant with me, so apparently I experienced the film pretty young. Our movie book review says it’s uneven because the director, Mike Nichols, couldn’t decide whether it was social satire or farce. I think it works better as the former, because the elements of farce take away empathy for the characters. Bancroft was 36 when it was released, Hoffman was 30, so hardly young enough to be her son. I think it’s most memorable for his performance, which contains the humorous, nebbishy tics more familiar from his later roles. He turned down the Gene Wilder role in The Producers to do The Graduate, and the role made him a star.

Rumor Has It is a riff on The Graduate. Aniston plays a girl who discovers that her family was the basis for the Robinsons in The Graduate, so she seeks out Costner to find out if he’s her father. Maclaine, as the “real” Mrs. Robinson, steals every scene she’s in. Costner is believably charming, though his artfully mussed hair is an expensive variation on a combover. It’s billed as a comedy; while lightweight, it’s more bittersweet. It also had that rare character–a good father, played well by Richard Jenkins of Six Feet Under. I enjoyed it more for having watched The Graduate. It got poor reviews, but I enjoyed it.

I’m likely to hit my minimum yearly book and movie goals of fifty, perhaps for books even by the end of August. After we had our first son, Drake, I found I was reading less often, and seeing movies hardly at all. Both reading and movies felt too important to become casualties (even temporarily) of parenthood, so last year and this I set movie and book challenges, with a hope that, at minimum, I’d be reading one book and seeing one movie a week. These challenges are reminders to myself (and perhaps to readers) that there IS time to read and to see movies. I make time for these things by not doing other things, like housecleaning and yard work, or doing them less often. Mental Multivitamin re-posted this entry on how she makes time to read/write/live/learn. Her post is a good reminder: time is limited and distractions many. My challenges help me focus on my priorities. My summer reading challenge has helped me focus on the reading list I set, rather than haring off whenever something new catches my eye, or comes in at the library. I’ve still departed from the list, but much less frequently, and with more deliberation, than I would if I had not set a reading list.

#43 in my reading challenge for the year, and #19 in my summer reading challenge, was Baby by Patricia MacLachlan, a recommendation from Michael Cart’s interesting history of YA literature, From Romance to Realism. Baby is a bittersweet, spare story of a vacation island family that takes in a child left at their door at the end of the season. As the story unfolds, we learn the sadness that lurks for each of the family members. This has beautiful prose, memorable characters, and challenging ruminations on loss and memory. Short, powerful, and emotional.