life this week

 Just within the last month, I feel like the mango has really started pushing her way out. Near as I can tell, she's still upside-down, so I guess she's wanting some extra leg-room, and who can blame her? With the two of us as parents, I'm sure she's going to have some long legs of her own.

I should note that having an active baby banging around in your abdomen feels a lot like how I always assumed the transformation after drinking polyjuice potion would feel. As a final note on the baby-front: I've officially had my first run-in with someone touching my stomach without permission. It was bound to happen eventually, but I'm still reeling a bit from her logic. While talking to her, I unconsciously put my hand on my stomach and she immediately reached and put a hand on it as well saying, "Oh, can I touch it too, since you are?" Apparently, touching my own stomach in public grants permission for anyone in the vicinity to touch it as well. The things you learn when you're pregnant.

As a reader, I'm a total sucker for a romantic subplot, so I've read many a version. Because romantic plots have such a wide range of quality, often we remember bits of them for less-than-flattering reasons, but occasionally you find gems even within average or mediocre writing. A few months ago I read Under a Painted Sky by Stacey Lee. Now, I enjoyed this book as a casual, easy read that was fun but not anything really spectacular, especially in the romantic subplot department. Except for this one line that I can't get out of my head: "That boy would pick the seeds off a strawberry if you asked him to." Have you guys ever read a line that is just satisfying? Even in my favorite books, such instances are rare for me, and I think that it's a kind of magic that just happens sometimes—and this is one of those for me. The idea of someone picking seeds off a strawberry somehow captures a certain level of devotion/infatuation without being melodramatic. Of course, this scenario wouldn't work in all stories, but it was perfect for this Oregon Trail-era story, and now I'm semi-obsessed with finding similar ways to phrase descriptions of affection. The stupid ideas I've come up with in pursuit of this goal prove that writing that flows and feels simple can be a good indicator of how much work a writer put into their story and how in-tune they are with its characters. It's truly an art, guys, and can take your breath away completely by surprise in the same wonderful way.

Today marks the official end of the semester [because let's be honest, who has finals on a Friday?], and work has already fallen off which leaves me with much-needed time to catch up on scanning and other projects. In the last two weeks I've wrapped up the office Christmas party [the last time I'll have to plan that!], the inaugural pre-production semester of the Journal of Student Leadership, the publication and launch of Intersections,

check out that cover!

provided the final moral support for Tim to finish his last assignment for the last class of his associates degree [can I get an AMEN], and made a greater effort to be something resembling an adult by setting the ball in motion to actually schedule dentist and eye appointments for both of us. I'm not sure if it's the season or the pregnancy that's amplifying my brain's natural inclination to get stuck in a loop, but more often than not I've felt bogged down and buried by a laundry list of things that I should be doing/should have accomplished ages ago so listing completed ones out helps. Because, as Tim keeps reminding me, I do get a lot of things done, I just don't always feel like it. Maybe that's why I've had this song stuck in my head since yesterday, and why I added another sticky note with "I believe that tomorrow is stronger than yesterday" to my massive mirror collection.

There's a lot of stuff you learn during pregnancy that you can learn without being pregnant, but, for me, lessons like patience with yourself and a greater sense of perspective when it comes to priorities and stressers are being hammered home in a condensed-course format, haha.

of engagements and babies

In the last month or so, three of my coworkers have gotten engaged and another announced that she is also pregnant. I'm not sure what our office has been drinking, but whatever it is it's potent.

It's interesting for me to watch these newly engaged coworkers and think back to when that was me, over five and a half years ago. That's such a short time, in the scheme of things, but so much can change in just a few years that, most of the time, it feels like it's been forever [in a good way]. I find that I don't really know what to say to someone who's newly engaged aside from "congratulations" and "I'm so excited for you," because the whole of what they're about to embark upon is so much more than I can comment on. Five years of marriage have introduced me to the bare tip of this great iceberg, and everyone's experiences are so incredibly different, especially within the first few years. When experiences vary so widely, I feel rather unqualified to provide advice if it's solicited. One thing I know holds true for everyone is that, regardless of how long you've been married, you have to choose each other again every day, even if it's just in a small way.

"The door of history turns on small hinges, and so do people's lives." - Thomas S Monson

Change can be deceptive. Sometimes it feels like it comes all at once, with no warning and no build-up, but that's never really true. Even if we aren't party to the choices made and actions taken that lead to change, they're always there. Often we are party to those choices and actions, frequently they stem from us, though we may not consider or understand the consequences until those small things unfold into larger results. This is both worrisome and encouraging in the context of marriage, as well as prospective parenthood.

The mango, apparently suddenly unsatisfied with being curled in a tight ball at the bottom of my pelvis, has begun renovating her accommodations with a vengeance within the last week. Somehow, I doubt that it'll be difficult to get a good look at her heart during our follow-up ultrasound next week. Maternity pants will definitely need to be in the picture if I'm going to have any chance at enjoying all the goodies this Thursday. Speaking of, our new Home Teachers just delivered a huge pumpkin pie last night. I may or may not be headed home to eat that for dinner.

Before I go: for those who have asked about this, I've finally gotten my registry to a point where I feel it's shareable. For now, it can be viewed via this link: https://www.babylist.com/emily-loveless. This is, by no means, a comprehensive list, as experienced moms will quickly recognize. I'll probably be adding things as they occur to me in the weeks to come, so if you're one of those insanely generous people looking to help us out, don't feel restricted to what's currently there. To answer some frequently asked questions: we do not have a specific color scheme in mind for nursery or clothing items. I personally gravitate more towards greens and blues than I ever will toward pink, though, ironically, the one item of clothing we've purchased thus far is light pink with orange foxes on it, so who knows. I want to stress that this is not here as any sort of bid for attention or handouts. To be honest, asking people to purchase any of this for us makes me incredibly uncomfortable. But I recognize that we have a lot of generous people in our lives who, like my mother, show support by filling a need, and learning how to allow others to serve you can be just as important as learning how to serve those around you.

a little update regarding the little mango

At 20 weeks I feel like I'm finally starting to show, which means a shopping trip will be on my horizon soon. My mom expressed concern that I haven't already bought maternity clothing out of a desire to stay as slim as possible for as long as possible. Really, I just hate shopping. Like, really hate it. But this little girl, who has graduated from Raptor to Mango ever since I told Tim two weeks ago that that's about how big she was, is definitely going to need more room for the sake of both our comfort. 

my selfie skills are not developing as fast as the mango is

For those who have been asking, I'm hoping to have the registry up within the next week. I was originally aiming for last week, but stuff with the student journals has completely taken over my life these last two weeks. Between that and trying to sort through plethora of recommendations and "baby must-haves" to find out what we actually need, and find it for a reasonable price, my brain has been spinning. I have discovered a handy way to trick myself into feeling like babies cost less than I originally thought: look up the most high-end, fancy, tricked-out, over-the-top versions of things first, then discover more reasonably designed and moderately priced versions of those products. Tadda! A tiny piece of my fiscal sanity has been restored!

One rather timely friend sent me an early gift this week that I've been adoring for days. They're board books for children based on classic literature from a series called BabyLit. She sent a copy of Pride and Prejudice which is laid out as a counting primer. When I got to 10 I just about died laughing—pretty sure Tim thought I'd gone insane.

 

 There's also a copy of Les Mis that's a French primer, teaching basic terms and translating the small phrases that accompany each picture. This little girl is already guaranteed to be multi-lingual! I really enjoyed the pages with Marius, they quite capture the essence of my personal opinion of him.

 

This is seriously one of the best discoveries I've had in a long time, and I am fully on board with the idea of  gifting these to pregnant friends in the future!

Speaking of, I found out this week that my supervisor is also expecting—due in late May. It's going to be a very pregnant office, come spring! It's kind of fun to not be the only pregnant lady in the office, and it's been interesting to watch her and think about where I was two months ago. There are a lot of amusing similarities [hormonal rage is real, people], and some differences [she's been much sicker than I was]. I'm really blessed to be surrounded by so many women that fall all along the timeline from currently-expecting to established mothers of small herds of children. In a lot of ways, I am adrift from the female support I grew up just expecting to have access to, since I live across the country now, but having so many fabulous women in my life who are more than willing to be open and share their experiences and preferences has done a lot to mitigate that hole.

embracing enthusiasm, and other ramblings

Something I've learned about myself in the last few years is that I seem to have a hard time letting myself really get excited about things. I don't consider myself that much of a pessimist, and it isn't that I don't get excited about things, I just subconsciously hold myself back from fully engaging in the enthusiasm for some reason. I think about this periodically, and especially now with this pregnancy. I mean, if there is ever a time where I am allowed to be unabashedly enthusiastic it's while having the easiest pregnancy known to man, right?

With this in mind, I've been trying to make sure I'm more engaged with the little preparations I'm working on. But let's be honest, it's hard to be truly excited about something if it doesn't feel concrete, and in my experience, pregnancy didn't feel that concrete until I started feeling movement this last week. Now I feel like things are really rolling.

If I had known how long it would take before I started to
show at all I would have taken a "before" picture so you could
understand that this is showing for me.
I know it doesn't look like it,  but believe me, the raptor is in there.

I've discovered that time has a funny way of warping around pregnancy. All at once I feel like I have no time to learn about and decide on a million different things from the type of medical care I want to what baby stuff needs to be procured when, but also feeling like March is ages away and this little creature is still so small. I'm afraid that I might wind up giving Tim whiplash from my sudden changes in focus and stress, though I know at least some of that can be chalked up to hormones. As a side note: calf cramps. Why are these a thing at all, where to they get off happening in the middle of the night for no reason and hurting so badly that you wake up and then limp for the rest of the day, and why are they so commonly associated with pregnancy? Most physical changes and symptoms make sense, but that one has me completely stumped.

A week from today we'll finally find out what we're having, and I'm consciously working to embrace and feel the excitement that I can sense lurking below my surface. I can't say that I have any specific hopes; I'm just excited to have another ultrasound and get confirmation that everything's okay.

Of course, not everyone chooses to find out the gender of their children before they are born [I just learned recently that my mom didn't know for any of us until we arrived]. That's really a pretty cool way of doing things, and I can see how it might help some to focus on the blessing of each individual child regardless of traditional markers. For me, though, to develop attachment I need details, and I'm really looking forward to having this one in particular to help ground my growing understanding of this little one's personality.

In anticipation of this, I've started to shift my question from "who will you be" to "who are you?" As interesting as it can be to speculate on the first question, it also carries a measure of anxiety since I'll have a pretty heavy hand, at least initially, in the answer to it. Also, in this moment, the first question doesn't tell me as much. Children are not beings that we create from scratch, persons that we have complete power to mold however we choose. They are eternal beings. Parents have a vast degree of influence, true, but these little ones come to us already in possession of themselves. This raptor is new to me, but that doesn't make them new, and this is actually really encouraging for me to remember. It's easier for me to feel like I can connect, knowing that this spirit may be as old, or older than my own. Oddly, this comforts some of my anxieties about parenthood as well, because it gives me further direction. My responsibility of helping this child to become who they're supposed to be is more like archaeology than construction. All the pieces they need will already be there. We'll rediscover them together.

there was originally going to be a central topic, i promise

You know you're on the right track when you're evaluating potential baby names based on how easy it would be to teach the kid to say it like a Pokemon when they're two.

We have our priorities in order here.

It feels like my to-do list has exploded in the last few weeks between baby stuff, student journal edits beginning, and various other tasks, but my energy level has yet to catch up. Everyone says you're supposed to get your energy back in the second trimester? Lies.

In all the chaos, a few good things have been growing. It has been months since I last touched the transcription of my hand-written first draft, but I picked it up again this weekend. As guilty as I feel for abandoning these characters for so long, it's encouraging to find that I'm still as invested and interested in them and their story as I remember being. I might be 60 by the time I consider it to be anywhere close to readable, but hey, if I'm not writing for my own enjoyment first, then what's the rush?

Fall has indisputably arrived here, a double-edged sword for me. I love the cooler weather and the colors that come when the leaves change, but the lingering darkness in the morning is also a reminder of winter to come. You really can't beat the sunsets though.

I've been looking into online editing sites as a potential form of employment that I can fill once I'm home-bound. It's a side project that I really ought to be spending more time on, though this current application is really tripping me up. There is a long list of poor job application questions that have been and continue to be asked, but I swear this one takes the cake. To be fair, based on the rest of the questions, I feel like this company is going for "fun and playful," but knowing that doesn't make it any easier for me to answer this: What is your unfair advantage? Now, I had a horrendously difficult time writing those short little self-promoting essays that all college applications seem to require. Why would this be any easier? I struggle enough with modest self-promotion, but this feels like they're encouraging you to be completely pretentious. The kicker is, you know there's a line here between "appropriately pretensions" and "well, you're just full of yourself," and I have no idea where it is. Am I allowed to edit your application process? Because I would just remove this question outright. What's the weirdest/worst thing you've ever been asked on a job application or in an interview?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to go see a movie for the first time in forever before attempting to wedge our current couch through the narrow birth canal of our hallway into the second bedroom in order to fit new furniture into the living room tomorrow. If you come over in the next few weeks and see a large, tarp-covered, sofa-shaped object in the kitchen where our table usually is, just pretend with us that we succeeded.

everything is normal and nothing is normal

This is my new motto, guys, courtesy of my very wise mother.

As I've mentioned to several people, I have had what must be the least uncomfortable first trimester in the history of the world. All of the things I'd always been worried about, okay, mostly morning sickness, turned out to not be a big part of the experience this time around, and I'm wildly grateful for that, but it's had some strange side-effects for me.

For one, I was so anxious about the potential for morning sickness that I was almost completely blind-sided by the mood swings. I don't think I'm alone when I say that I'd always expected those—the irrational and lingering anger at nothing, and the ever-close-to-the-surface tears (it doesn't help that I've always been an easy crier)—to come with the third trimester. I mean, the stereotype of the raving pregnant lady is always about eight or nine months along, right?

The second thing that caught me completely off-guard is what people are referring to when they say your hormones go crazy. That's such a vague statement, you know? So when I called my mother two weeks ago because I was freaking out because my brain was legit telling me—despite medical confirmation and the physical proof of an ultrasound magneted to the fridge—that I had made this entire thing up, there's nothing going on in there, it was like a revelation to hear her telling me that this is something hormones can do. What?

It's a really common thing to hear people say that the only thing you have control over is yourself, so it is super disorienting and terrifying to realize that sometimes you don't. I know that for those with various disabilities and mental disorders this isn't news. I mean, I majored in psychology, guys, I know that there are circumstances in which we cannot control the thoughts that come into our minds, or how reasonable they sound. Let me just say that knowing that and experiencing that are two wildly different things. I'm not trying to compare my small experience to those who are living with this sort of thing on a consistent and even debilitating basis, but it has definitely opened my eyes a little more to what it must be like to live that way. It is weird, and terrifying, and no one will really know what you're talking about unless they've experienced. Unfortunately, in our society, that contributes to the dismissive attitude so many take towards matters of mental health.

While my mom was talking me down from my irrational panic attack, she said "Emily, there is one thing to remember from here on out: everything is normal and nothing is normal." The hormones that mess with pregnant women's brains are doing an important job. The weirdness is just a side effect of their work. And it's a humbling experience to be reminded even further that the only thing I have control over is the choices I make, and that doesn't always include the things that come into my mind. It's hard to let go of control, of all kinds. But life is really a practice in learning how to do better at letting go of it, and I suspect that this is just a precursor to parenthood and everything else that's going to come into my life after this. So I'm going to keep chanting this new little mantra in the back of my mind, and pray that I have the grace to be patient with myself.

Bless all first children ever for surviving their poor parents, haha.

ny, school, and surprises

 Hello all! As promised, I have compiled, for your I'm-bored-out-of-my-mind-and-have-nothing-else-to-do viewing pleasure, a post about my recent trip home to NY, and various and sundry updates on my life. There are lots of pictures, even after trimming the number down, so feel free to just scroll if that's your preference.

My trip to NY actually began in July, when I was informed that my younger brother would be going home for a week before his fall semester classes started, which was convenient for him as he would be temporarily homeless within that time period anyway. My parents, being the absurdly generous people that they are, extended the offer to me, but they wouldn't be able to fly Tim out as well, and he wouldn't be able to go anyway because work. After a lot of debating and feeling-bad-for-abandoning-my-husband-for-a-week on my part [hey, it's the longest we've been apart in 4.5 years of marriage], I decided to go. Thus, my trip began in mid-August with a flight, as such cross-country trips generally do for me.

My brother and I scored emergency row seating, which was amazing.

 It was a pretty long day, and, including the 3 hour layover in Baltimore, we didn't get home until about 10:30 EST. We'd been on the road for almost 12 hours. Worth it. That being said, we didn't get much sleep before heading off for the city the next morning. [for those of you not from NY or the East Coast in general, yes, we refer to NYC as "the city," it's faster and everyone there knows what you mean] But who needs sleep when you have a two hour train ride ahead of you?

That's a joke. I don't sleep any better on trains than planes,
which is to say poorly, even without these two as distractions.

 The plan was to watch a NYC Football Club game at Yankee stadium, but first, food and some site-seeing. Because one can never see all of the city. It's just not possible.

Props to Emily R for the great restaurant recommendation. Authentic
ramen  is a very different experience from Top Ramen, but a pretty cool one.

 I'm usually a fan of the humidity in NY, if you can believe it, but that Saturday was ridonkulously hot and the intermittent showers really weren't very helpful, so I was absolutely delighted to discover that NYC has air conditioned subway cars. Realistically, these have probably existed for a while and I just haven't ever managed to catch one before. They are truly a blessing.

We had originally planned to include a stop at the Freedom Tower, but after lunch it was clear that we wouldn't have time. Happily we caught a glimpse of it from our next stop. The last time I was in the city, Tim and I visited the 9/11 memorial, but at the time the museum wasn't open and the tower was still pretty far from complete, so I was really glad we at least got to see it in the distance.

*waves*
also, how cool is that building on the left?

 Okay. So, while it's true that you can't ever have seen everything the city has to offer, it's kind of embarrassing for me that, having lived in NY for the first solid 18 years of my life, I somehow got to the age of 25 without setting foot on the Brooklyn Bridge. I mean, it's a bridge, but come on. It's the Brooklyn Bridge. Thankfully, Spencer and Carrigan didn't mind humoring me in tackling this item on my bucket list, despite the fact that it involved a lot more walking.

 You actually have to walk a good ways to get to this boardwalk portion, and the whole stretch leading to it is just as narrow, but with vendors taking up half of the width. They've got a good gig going, but it makes for some interesting maneuvering, especially when you throw in all the cyclists with major NYC attitude, haha.

My siblings are so photogenic, aren't they? Someone just edit me out of this.

One very long and very crowded subway ride later [we decided it turned out in our favor to be riding the line all the way from the bottom of Manhattan as the car was packed tighter than sardines before we were halfway up the island. turns out, everyone else was going to the game too] we arrived at Yankee stadium. This was only my second time watching professional soccer, and I was really excited. Also because our seats turned out to be shaded the entire time with a beautiful breeze.

I've never been to a professional baseball game, so I was kind of surprised by how small the field actually is. It definitely makes for great viewing, though. There was a whole huge group in red sitting on the top level just to the left of this next shot. It took us a while to figure out who they were, since the playing teams' colors were light blue and white. Turns out, they were Liverpool FC fans. I guess when you really love soccer you'll watch whatever teams you can!

 A cursory activity, when visiting home, is mini golf. I'm not entirely sure when this became a thing, though it may have something to do with the fact that I almost always picked mini golf as my birthday activity on the years I didn't have parties with friends. What can I say? The quirky nature of it appeals to me.

 This place was actually pretty cool. They had a really elaborate setup to lead you through the holes. And then the sun set and we discovered that it was really poorly lit, so we were basically putting in the dark...

The planning of everything for this trip revolved around one thing: a boat trip. My dad recently acquired a small sail boat [24ft] and was terribly excited to take my brother and I out for a trip. My mom doesn't do water so he doesn't have passengers very often.

The original plan was to make it a two-day, one night trip, though I only made it for one. The tricky thing about sailing is that it all depends on the weather, and in my experience the weather is rarely cooperative. Not going to lie, I was a little nervous about the whole endeavor. My dad's owned a Hobie Cat for years, so I've been out on the Hudson several times, and had already established that I prefer my water-faring craft to remain as level as possible. It seemed unlikely that this would be achievable on such a small boat.

You can't see it from here, but the boat's name is
The Little Prince.

While preparations were still underway at the docks, I found a small motorboat with this fabulous engine. Now I need to find out if the dragonfly was named for the brand or vise versa.

 The day of boating began with very little wind, but thankfully it picked up after lunch, which Spencer prepared in the galley by himself because it was about 50 degrees hotter in there than on deck. Eating lunch on a small boat while trying to keep the keel angled so the sails are giving you shade is quite the experience.

Once the wind picked up, we spent the rest of the day cutting back and forth across the river. We didn't really get anywhere, but I don't think any of us really minded, and there was minimal tilting of the water craft.

Plus the view was pretty good.

 Considering we spent about 7 hours on the water, I somehow miraculously escaped any serious sunburn, except for a small, bizarrely-shaped patch on the back of my left wrist which I'm assuming burned to spite me. I may not be completely in love with pastimes like this, but I am really glad that I get to share them with my dad.

I can only hope to be as active and passionate when I'm his age.

 If one is going to do NY in the summer properly, one must attend a county fair. It's really just not the full experience unless you do. As a family, we attended the Dutchess County Fair pretty frequently growing up. It's always been a crowded, hectic sort of event, and I found out on this trip that it's actually the most popular fair in the state. Which is pretty neat. The animals are always found at the entrance to the fair grounds, including the 4-H Club, which also sells the best chocolate shakes ever.

We saw these fabulous creatures upon first walking into the fair. A shaved poodle is one thing. A shaved alpaca? Entirely new levels of humor.

I think most of the animals had been judged by the evening we went, which gave us the pleasure of this amazing contrast:

GIANT GOOSE, itty-bitty duck.

 You could hear that goose from outside of the poultry building. I don't know what his problem was, but he was not being shy about it. I felt so bad for that duck, having to stay next to such a loud neighbor.

If you take a girl to a county fair, she'll want to ride the swings...

THE GROWN-UP SWINGS

Nerds, the lot of us.

 The swings and the ferris wheel are my rides of choice, whether it be at a county fair or Six Flags. I've never been a roller coaster person and the sensation of cruising through warm evening air over the heads of other fair-goers is an integral part of my childhood summer memories. I will be riding the swings until a physician specifically orders me not to, and even then I'll probably try.

 Tim was very jealous of our fair escapades and charged me with the task of eating something deep-fried on his behalf. I did indulge in fried Oreos for the first time [yum!], but the picture I sent him was of the fried pickles I bought. Tim really doesn't like pickles and was rather offended that I had chosen them to eat in his honor, haha.

But they're so deliciousssss

 We rounded off the evening with some fresh roasted peanuts for my mom, which came from these super rad cast-iron roasters:

 All in all, considering the down-side of not having Tim with me, this was a really great trip. Usually I feel so rushed when I go home, like I can't do all the things I want to. This time, though, sad as I always am to get back on the plane, I felt satisfied. I had done everything I could have wanted to, and I had the chance to see all the friends in town at the time.

 

A visit home is never long enough, but I know I'm blessed to go at all, let alone as often as I've been able to. So thanks, mom and dad, for making this possible, and for not making fun of your grown daughter who still gets homesick.

My best description of the vividity of NY is to say that it's like someone kicked the slider on the color saturation up to 100%. Pictures can never quite capture it, but just to give you an idea of what I mean:

The Buhler Barn.

In back, house on the left, acreage to the right. Yes, there are at least 3 gardens.

Continuing to the right, swinging around to the road on the other side of the fence.

I've been back in Utah for over two weeks, and I just now feel like I'm getting my feet back under me. Part of that was recovering from the trip, but the other part was the fact that I got dumped back into the middle of the start of a new fall semester at work. There's always stuff to catch up on after being gone for a week, but the first few weeks of a semester are extra crazy. Despite being on the lookout, yet again, for a new morning shift coworker, things are starting to calm down now, which is good, because my activity with the student journals is about to really take off. I've got a submission deadline on Friday, then a reading night on Monday which will get us underway for Intersections. In the meantime, I've been attending a small weekly class for the Journal of Student Leadership, and we're currently gearing up for a kick-off event that'll go off the night of the 22nd. Thankfully, the JSL won't be publishing its first issue until next spring, so the work load for these two shouldn't be crippling, but I'm definitely going to have to keep myself more organized.

Of course, everything that's happened in the last month and a half has been compounded by one thing.

I bought this card for Tim, because I figured it was an appropriate way to tell him. So I'm using it again to tell all of you. I'm pregnant! *awkward jazz-hands* Baby Loveless will be joining us on [or around, because let's be honest, babies aren't exactly punctual] March 28th.

we will return to your regularly scheduled programming shortly

I'm so sorry for the long absence, you guys! The last month or so has just been crazier than I'd anticipated and things started piling up quick with my trip to NY, the start of a new school year, and other things. I'm planning to make next week a big catch-up post, complete with pictures from my travels and various updates on life. So hang in there with me and tune in again next week!

when it rains, it pours

I don't think that I've ever felt this sentiment quite as much as I have in the last few weeks and going into this whole month. The bright side is that this phrase applies to good things as well as bad, and all of mine are good, if challenging.

My August went from being wide-open to chock-full-of-all-the-things-and-how-can-I-do-them-all in the course of the last two weeks. I accepted the position of Managing Editor at one of the student journals on campus, and was subsequently invited to a retreat that the English Department sponsors annually [is this how people adult?]. The entirety of this experience is such an amazing and flattering opportunity, but I'm definitely low-key panicking on the inside. I was already going into the fall semester with work for three journals on my plate, and now one of those assignments has gotten a serious upgrade based on one semester's experience working with the Head Editor. There's going to be some serious re-prioritizing and time-management in my near future.

I agreed to house my brother's stuff for a few days while he's between apartments and taking a trip back home about half an hour before taking a call from my mom proposing that I join my brother on this trip home. It's been over two years since I was last in New York, and anyone who knows me knows that, given the means, I'm more than happy to make that flight at the drop of a hat, so my parents' incredibly generous offer didn't fall on deaf ears. The downside, unfortunately, is that Tim won't be coming with us, which made me realize that this is the first time we will be apart for more than 24 hours since we got married. Over 4.5 years ago. Yikes. New experiences all-around! The retreat is the weekend before we fly out, though, so that'll give me a small dry-run. So, surprise NY people! I'll be in your neck of the woods from the 19th through the 26th!

The August madness is compounded by adjustments in my work schedule to accommodate these trips, meetings related to the new student journal I'm on the board of, wading through the insane piles of information involved in finding a new GP, prepping for a potentially huge project in a few months, and gearing up for the new semester which will have started by the time I get back from NY. That doesn't even include the rest of my novel transcription work! All of my Saturdays have been claimed, and most of the weekdays are committed to meetings, events, travel, finishing summer class assignments, and prepping for each of those things. Adulthood is slowly destroying my quiet routine, but, while that can be stressful and scary, it's freaking exciting too!

To top it off, after a solid month of daily temperatures well over 90°, we are sitting at a blissful 87° today. I might cry.

On a completely unrelated note: I've started watching Gilmore Girls again in preparation for the Thanksgiving release of the revival season. When I say "started watching again" I mean "I stopped in the middle of S6 E19  over a year and a half ago and never went back to it." You Gilmore Girls people know why. Anyway, getting back into the series wasn't as hard as I'd feared it might be, though the painful parts I was anticipating are still painful. See: why did they have to do that to Marty?! I was holding out hope for him in the revival, but now that hope has been utterly and heavy-handedly crushed to dust! Rude.

2nd quarter book review

I returned the last of this set last Saturday [and checked out seven more...I don't have a problem. what], and I wanted to avoid my previous procrastination so here we go—better two days late than three weeks! I mentioned before that I won't be fully reviewing the books I borrowed that are parts of various series, but I've included them in my list with ratings. Speaking of which, we've got a new rating system this time around. Every time I borrow a huge load of books I write the titles down on paper so I can write down my ratings as I read my way through them. This time, for whatever reason, I used smiley faces instead of stars, and I'm not sure what the conversion is for smile-face-to-star so we have smiley faces this time. In future I suspect I'll return to the star method as it allows for a larger range of response, mostly because my smiley face drawing capabilities are pretty limited.

As always, read at your own risk. I honestly try to keep spoilers to a minimum, but sometimes things slip through.

I think I've mentioned Dealing with Dragons here before [loved it, btw] and the following are the sequential successors to that first installment. You really can't go wrong with a tongue-in-cheek, stereotype-breaking, middle-grade fantasy series.
Searching for Dragons 😄
Calling on Dragons 😄
Talking to Dragons 😄

I have been a fan of the collaborative fairytale series Once Upon a Time [no, it's not the tv show] since junior high. Several authors contribute to this collection, so if you don't totally love one of the retellings, don't swear them all off. Cameron Dokey is one of the most common authors, and a personal favorite. Each book is a retelling of a classic fairytale/folktale [most often with a female heroine], and most have a fabulous twist. They're all around 200 pages so it's easy to zoom through a stack.
The Storyteller's Daughter [retelling of Arabian Nights] 😄
The Diamond Secret [retelling of Anastasia] 😒 - to be fair, my dislike of this once wasn't wholly based on the poor writing [though that was exceptionally bad in places], the movie may just have ruined me for any other versions
Night Dance [retelling of The Twelve Dancing Princesses] 😊
Midnight Pearls [retelling of The Little Mermaid] 😐
Winter's Child [retelling of The Snow Queen] 😊
The World Above [retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk] 😊
Sunlight and Shadow [a 'spin' on The Magic Flute] 😊

I don't know how I missed the Books of Ember series when I was in junior high, but I did. I just picked up The City of Ember earlier this year [guys, there are so many of these books that I thought I had reviewed but haven't???] and I'm currently in possession of books 3 and 4 [though I'm kind of disappointed that 3 is a prequel?]. I have enjoyed the series so far, though the social themes can sometimes be a little heavy-handed.
The People of Sparks 😄

Now, on to the main attractions!

Hush: An Irish Princess' Tale 😄
Donna Jo Napoli is becoming one of those authors that I come across completely accidentally again and again. I've read Beast and Bound, and enjoyed both, so I had a certain level of expectation going into Hush.

Hush is historical fiction mixed with folktale, stemming from an Icelandic tale of a captured slave, thought to be mute, who turns out to be an Irish princess who had been stolen from her home years before. Melkorka is that princess, and Hush tells the story of how she came to be a slave in Iceland. While traveling in secret, Melkorka and her sister Brigid are taken captive aboard a slave ship and whisked away from their home. Early into their journey, Brigid manages to escape their captors but Melkorka is not so quick. Her travels as a captured slave subject her to horrors she had never imagined in her privileged life, but she also discovers goodness and friendship in the most unlikely places. Most of all, she learns that her voice is a symbol of power that grows stronger as she refuses to cry out or speak. Her silence protects her as she is hauled across northern Europe, all the way down to the Black Sea, and back to norther waters again.

Melkorka's story is an absolute roller-coaster of tension. You get lulled into little spots of relative comfort before her circumstances flip and her safety is completely in question again. The book is a riveting read, because of this [once you get past the first few chapters which are a little slow, it took me a while to actually like Melkorka, but that's part of the reason I got so attached to her once I did]. If you aren't a fan of unanswered questions or loose ends left dangling at the end of a book, then this might be a tough sell for you. Napoli has created all of the details of Melkorka's life, including her name, but she was still bound by the ending which ties into the original folk tale, which doesn't say much about this princess or what happened to her once she was discovered. It's an interesting restriction to work with, to have your only unmovable point be a rather vague ending, but I really enjoyed it, and the questions I was left with actually helped to sell it as historical fiction for me. Melkorka does witness and experience some truly awful things [Napoli does her research on treatment of slaves of the time], but none of what is related is really graphic. There are enough contextual clues and small descriptors to indicate what's happening without being explicit.

House of Ivy and Sorrow 😊
Natalie Whipple's book is a healthy blend of romance and magical realism that appeals to the teenager in you who's just looking for a touch of the paranormal in everyday life.

Jo Hemlock has managed to keep her life as a witch completely separate and secret from her social life as a high schooler, and, aside from a wizened grandmother who meddles in her romantic affairs, life has been pretty good in the heartland of America. Until the Curse that killed her mother, and so many other witches in Jo's family, resurfaces. Fighting off the Curse once and for all may come at the price of her secret.

House of Ivy and Sorrow definitely has a darker undertone than the lighthearted YA romance plot line might initially suggest. Perhaps it's because I haven't read a lot of books featuring more traditional witches, but the drastic contrast between Jo's fluffy, normal  social life and the gruesome, down-and-dirty brand of magic [there's a lot of dead bugs, various animal eyes, and tendons and organs of a host of creatures] took a while to reconcile. I suppose that might be Whipple's point, to draw a distinct line between the two halves of Jo's life, but it strained my suspense of disbelief at times. That being said, this is a good fluffy sort of read with themes of friendship, trust, and loyalty, and if some of the characters felt a bit flatter than I'd like, it kind of just fits with the story overall so it's not a deal-breaker. The mystery surrounding the Curse is intriguingly convoluted, though I wish the untangling began a bit earlier in the plot, and there are some pretty good surprises along the way.

There are a few escalated romance scenes between Jo and her new boyfriend, but they're always interrupted before anything more than a shirt comes off [which only happens once]. Also, if you're squeamish about blood and gore maybe tread carefully—hanks of hair are routinely yanked out, and chunks of characters' flesh are required at certain points.

The Anchoress 😊
Robyn Cadwallader's [guys, get a hold of that last name] book is a historical fiction set in England, 1255, and follows Sarah, the newest anchoress enclosed in the small cell attached to the wall of the village church. For those to whole the concept of an anchoress is new, as it was to me, an anchoress was a woman who chose to sequester herself away from the world in order to live a life of prayer. They were more isolated than nuns, typically living in tiny bricked-in cells attached to churches. They were traditionally cared for by a maid or two who would be the only people to actually see the anchoress for the duration of her interment [an anchoress was referred to as being dead to the world], unless she chose to show herself to one of the women that came to seek her spiritual advice.

Sarah, fleeing the traumatic death of her younger sister and the prospect of marriage, concludes that she has been called to be an anchoress, and at first embraces the blessed solitude of her little cell. But the thick walls of her hiding place cannot keep out old ghosts, and when the voice of the previous anchoress begins to call to her from the dirt floor, Sarah begins to realize that her enclosure cannot fully blot out her memories or the world. Initially determined to keep her distance from even the women of the village who come seeking counsel, and feeling neglected by her new confessor who always seems in a rush to leave, Sarah slowly becomes invested in the lives and concerns of those outside her walls. Truly discovering the peace she seeks, though, will drive her close to death and challenge many of her own long-assumed beliefs. It is a grievous sin for an anchoress to break her vows and leave her anchorhold, but it's been done before. Will Sarah's journey of personal and spiritual discovery leave her only these two options: stay or leave?

As much as I have enjoyed different experiences with historical fiction, The Anchoress was entirely outside my wheelhouse, but in the best way. Sarah's story, set so far back in history, and set along the life of a profession that no longer even exists, has surprisingly relatable themes. It explores the political and economic strife between the haves and have-nots, challenges assumptions about womanhood and the roll of women in society, and reminds the reader that kindness and goodness are not traits held exclusively by those we might view as desirable.

The Executioner's Daughter 😐 
Lily's parents have gone to great lengths to shield their daughter from the horrors of her father's occupation, but even a small girl quickly understands why she is teased a reviled by other children of the village. Her friends, instead, are the small woodland creatures she has been nurturing back to health through the instruction of her parents. Lily dreams of becoming a healer one day, to help animals and people get better, rather than hurting them, but when her mother contracts a sudden and serious illness Lily must take her place as her father's assistant. Such sudden exposure to such gruesome events shakes Lily to her core, and she knows her father is in no position to ease her burden. Is there any way for a young girl to change her fate?

Coming in at a whopping 134 pages, Laura Williams' foray into the grim circumstances of a child growing up in the Middle Ages  under the shadow of perhaps the most unpopular profession is both striking and strikingly short. The Executioner's Daughter is Middle Grade, so a lot of the detail and struggle you might expect from such a premise is abbreviated or smoothed over. Lily only witnesses one truly gruesome execution, the majority of her experience is with the toll the job takes on her parents, which, as an adult reader, lends the depth that the story is really in need of. While Lily is likable and believable, some of her decisions seem rushed, without giving her time to really process through events or make her way to certain conclusions. The book also ends on a cliff-hanger than isn't entirely satisfying, though it is hopeful. The reader gets a small glimpse at the life Lily may be leading at the end of the book, but it's vague and leaves you wanting more information. I firmly believe that children should be exposed to hard topics, in appropriate ways, so this is an interesting book to find on the shelf, but I think that the idea would have been more satisfactorily carried out in YA.

Mosquitoland 😄 
The questions of 'what is truth?' and 'what is sanity?' are primary themes that lace their way through this David Arnold novel. I'll be perfectly honest, I have instant reservations when I see a book like this, with a female protagonist, has been written by a man. It's not that men can't write female characters, it's just that knee-jerk reaction from the teenager in me asking how an adult who has never been a teenage girl can really hope to capture more than a flat stereotype, but my inner teenager was happily impressed here.

Mosquitoland is a coming-of-age, self-discovery road trip reminiscent of a John Green novel [I've enjoyed John Green's work thus far, for the record]. After a whirlwind of betrayal, Mim finds herself relocated from Ohio to the 'armpit' of Mississippi against her will with her father and his brand new wife. Neither of them will tell Mim what's happened to her mother, and since she stopped receiving letters from her she's become more than a little desperate to set her life to rights. So she buys a ticket for the northbound Greyhound bus and sets off on a thousand-mile journey to reclaim her life and her mother. What Mim doesn't know is that the road to Cleveland has more than a few detours in it, complete with colorful characters and dangerous encounters with more than one kind of threat. She'll make some new friends, but she'll also be forced to take a hard look at herself and what she believes to be true.

Arnold's novel contains an impressive variety of characters, including autism, mental illness, homosexuality, and a sexual predator in its sweep. It's worth pointing out that Mim's trip is not a never-in-any-real-danger kind of adventure. Her story is gritty and real in the way that cross-country trips are often stranger than fiction. I would not recommend this as a read for younger children and would even hesitate to give it to some young teens. Nothing ever gets really graphic, but the tone and nature of many of Mim's experiences are definitely not for a younger audience, just be aware.

That being said, I really enjoyed this book. Mim's personality is sassy and salty and all the wonderfully biting humor of teenage angst while retaining that bottomless capacity for compassion and love that generally goes overlooked in teenagers. Her already tumultuous relationship with her father is further complicated by the fact that he believes Mim has the same mental illness as his sister, and his persistence in taking her to therapy and putting her on meds has affects the way Mim identifies herself. The people she meets broaden her view on what makes a good person and give her some perspective on the things she thinks are awful about her own life.

With it's twist ending and cross-country bus trip, Mosquitoland winds up feeling really reminiscent of Walk Two Moons, which might be a deal-breaker for some [several details are almost uncannily similar, but every story has been told before, right?]. My biggest hang-up, though, was that I don't feel like I really understand what happened with Mim's mom. I'm not sure if Arnold was somewhat vague on purpose or if he just assumed that people would have the concrete idea of how that mystery ended, but it was mostly just confusing for me. There is also a surprising lack of female characters. This is probably just a personal preference thing for me [and not that there's anything wrong with girls who hang out primarily with guys], but I'm really just itching for a discovery journey that focuses on female friendships for teens.

Rose Under Fire 😄
If you guys have read Code Name Verity then you will love Elizabeth Wein's second WWII thriller. Rose Under Fire is set just a few months after the events of Code Name Verity, and follows American ATA pilot Rose Justice. [Maddie is a part of this book, in a much smaller side capacity, but I love it when you get appropriate character cross-over in stories like this]

Rose has worked hard and pulled all the strings possible via an uncle in high places in order to become a part of the ATA, and, while she's seen enough horrors in the few short months she's been ferrying planes, she's chomping at the bit to do more to help the war effort as the Allies begin their push toward Germany. She gets more than she bargained for, however, when she is captured by the Nazis while flying a plane from Paris to England. To make matters worse, instead of the women's POW camp she was slated for, Rose finds herself in Ravensbrük. In the following months, as conditions at the camp worsen with the increasing crowds and winter weather, Rose survives on her poetry and the unexpected friendship, loyalty, and sacrifices of her fellow prisoners. But the Allies advancement is a double-edges sword when you're a prisoner who's less of a liability dead than alive. Will Rose's nerve and determination be enough to save her and her friends from the gas chambers?

As you guys have probably gathered, I'm a big fan of WWII historical fiction, and Wein's writing continues to deliver here. There is a similar feel between Rose Under Fire and Code Name Verity, especially in the narration style. The majority of the book is told through Rose's written account, and there's a large shift in the story similar to Maddie's "DRAT DRAT DOUBLE DRAT" moment, but the tie-ins don't feel cheap. Rose's experience has much less of the cloak-and-dagger feel, compared to Maddie's, but it's just as harrowing. For those that are not fans of reading about the abuses and horrors associated with concentration camps, tread carefully. Most of the worst bits of the day-to-day atrocities are described only generally, but it's hard to escape the realities of these prisoners' lives, and, while Rose is a fictional character, Wein has again done her research about what someone like her would have had to live through at Ravensbrük. It becomes almost immediately apparent that Rose survives her ordeal so Wein is able, more so than she could in Code Name Verity to explore the life-long burden that thousands bore after the fighting was over. Rose's character is relatable and  believable, and if your heart doesn't ache for her, and especially those who did live through such atrocities, long after you've finished reading then you are a monster. Okay, maybe not. But really.

A Wind in the Door 😊
I find that describing Madeleine L'Engle's work is a unique challenge. I have never before read any of the other books in the A Wrinkle in Time quintet, so I'm going to mention some things up front for any others as unfamiliar as I. This series is not written entirely in chronological order, and, at least judging by the two I've read, they function almost as stand-alones, with no reference to or acknowledgement of the events that happen in the other books. This really threw me off initially. Meg's father is home and working in A Wind in the Door, so I was expecting some kind of reference to the events and various characters of A Wrinkle in Time, but there isn't any. This second installment does come chronologically after the first, but this is only distinguishable by the presence of Meg's father and mentions of her and Calvin's respective ages. If you struggle to understand or enjoy L'Engle's work, this book isn't going to help you out much.

I'm going to go ahead and just copy amazon's summary over for you guys, because I honestly couldn't say it any other way:
"It is November. When Meg comes home from school, Charles Wallace tells her he saw dragons in the twin's vegetable garden. That night Meg, Calvin and C.W. go to the vegetable garden to meet the Teacher (Blajeny) who explains that what they are seeing isn't a dragon at all, but a cherubim named Proginoskes. It turns out that C.W. is ill and that Blajeny and Proginoskes are there to make him well – by making him well, they will keep the balance of the universe in check and save it from the evil Echthros.

Meg, Calvin and Mr. Jenkins (grade school principal) must travel inside C.W. to have this battle and save Charles' life as well as the balance of the universe."

L'Engle's writing is easiest for me to understand and remember when I think in terms of themes. As with A Wrinkle in Time, the themes drive the story here and touch on broader, more grown-up topics than the fantastical sci-fi events might originally suggest in a middle-grade book. In order to succeed in saving Charles Wallace, Meg and co. must learn to find the human and lovable in those they find it easiest to dislike; they have to learn to see their relative insignificance in the scheme of a universe, and then reconcile it with their immeasurable importance; they learn that certain aspects of growing up that may, at first, seem restrictive and boring actually allow us greater freedoms, and to be greater forces for good than we would be if we stayed ever as we are now. L'Engle's is a unique ability to blend the poignant with the utterly fantastical.