My First Book Review

So people ask me, Soren, what are you reading these days? Let me tell you . . . lots! I read (or actually, get read to) all the time. I'm talking 5 - 8 books a day. OK, they are short books and I've read some of them so many times I actually remember the ending (No more Mousie Takes a Bite, please. The lead character in a children's book should not DIE IN THE END!! And Mom and Dad wonder why I am having trouble sleeping through the night?)

Another book I like much better is Guess How Much I Love You. It's about two hares, two Nutbrown Hares to be exact, a son and his father. The son keeps asking his dad, "Guess how much I love you?" then he does something like jumps in the air as high as he can and says, "This much." "Wow, that's a lot," says dad. But then dad spoils it by saying, "And I love you THIS much," and jumps even higher. I just wish Little Nutbrown Hare could have outguessed his dad Big Nutbrown Hare just once!


Another one of my other favorites is Read-Aloud Rhymes For the Very Young. Here is a sample:

Snail's Pace by Aileen Fisher
Maybe it's so, that snails are slow. They trudge along and tarry.
But isn't it true, you'd slow up too, if you had a house to carry.

I think if I wrote a rhyme at this stage it would be something like:

Standing Up by Soren Randall
I teeter a bit and totter a lot, whenever I try to stand.
But I can stand steady, with Dad's ever-ready, helping and holding hands.


The book I want to tell you about right now is I Am Learning All The Time by Rain Perry Fordyce and illustrated by our family friend Audrey Anne Miles Cherney. I have a signed copy of this book, I am so lucky! I like this hot-off-the-presses book so much I'd like to offer a review for the greater reading public.

The first thing you need to know is that this is a book about kids that are homeschooled. I think this is a very cool idea. And for artistic purposes, the kids in the book are drawn as dogs and cats. This probably has a deeper meaning, like we should all just get along or maybe that dogs and cats are just like everyone else and should wear pants with holes in them for their tails, I'm just not sure. But the spirit of the book can be summed up by what two of the kids say to each other at the park while they are looking at a ladybug with magnifying glasses:

"Why do people always ask us why we are not in school?" I ask my very best friend Bennet.
"I guess they don't know . . . " he says.
"Know what?" I ask again.
"They don't know we don't have to go to school," he explains.
I think about that . . . while we explore the wild world of bugs and grass.

I love that exchange. I don't know if I will be homeschooled, but I'm glad I live in a town where it is an option. I like the idea that we all don't have to be the same. Because hey, I'm a unique individual! And I have a feeling I'm going to like looking at bugs too. I also like the story line of the "adventure fort," which is a treehouse but so much more. I hope my dad builds me something like that.

The story's great and the illustrations are interesting, action packed, and lots of fun. But I do have to say there is one terribly unrealistic plot hole in the story. Where is the bickering? I mean, are you really trying to tell me that two brothers get along all the time, playing chess, battling and capturing a Tyrannosarus Rex, doing dishes after dinner, and writing letters to mom and dad as to how much they love them? Come on! Where are the arguments? Like this is what really happened when the two brothers found the dinosaur... First brother: "But I want to name the Tyrannosarus Rex 'Napoleon'." Second brother: "No, I saw her first and I've already named her 'Sarah Palin'. She's obviously a girl!!" First brother then hits Sarah Palin over the head and runs away crying.

Or maybe spending less time in public school and more time in a caring and nurturing environment, especially for boys, helps you get along with others more kindly. Something to think about.

P.S. Here's a link to the website for I Am Learning All the Time, where you can order our friend's book and more!

Losing My Cool

People ask me, "Soren, you are such a calm and collected little guy. There must be something that upsets you." Well the truth of the matter is, it's not just one thing that gets to me, it's everything! And it always happens at a specific time. A time commonly referred to in our household as the "witching hour."

You know the feeling. It's what you feel when your waiting in line to catch a Washington State ferry that's about to leave in two minutes and the driver in the car in front of you asks the attendant for directions, lamely holding out an upside down map of Ohio. Or when you're in an airport waiting to board a plane and the announcer says, "I'm sorry we've overbooked this flight. We forgot how many seats we had on the plane." Or the feeling you get when you realize you've just locked your keys in the car and you don't have a spare set. You don't know whether to cry tears of sorrow or scream in outrage. Well when the "witching hour" strikes me, I know just what to do. All of the above.

You're skeptical, I know. You ask, "Soren, there can't possibly be anything in the life of a 3 month old baby that could cause such consternation." Oh, please. When was the last time you tried being a baby? This stuff is hard! Everything is new to me. I can't talk. I have very little control over my bowels. I don't have any teeth, but that doesn't keep my gums from hurting. I have no locomotion abilities. I have very little stamina and I tire quickly. I need to sleep at least 15 hours a day but I don't know how to go to sleep on my own. I can get uncontrollable hic-ups without any warning. Sometimes my stomach gets so upset I feel I'm going to explode if someone doesn't burp me (which involves much back pounding, way fun). When I least expect it I spit up all over myself and those around me. And my only two means of communication are smiling a toothless grin or screaming at the top of my lungs.

So between the hours of 4 pm and 6 pm, after a fun packed day of being me, I am a little tired of . . . well, everything. I could be smiling one minute, feeding, playing or who knows what. The next minute I'm screaming my head off. I can't help it, I just have to do it. I turn beet red. My eyes start watering. And you know what? It makes me feel better. Even though I'm screaming and tears are running down my face, at last, I am in control. Mom and Dad are running around like chickens with their heads cut off, burping me, dancing me around the room, bouncing me in my hammock, trying to feed me, offering me pacifiers, toys, bribes, anything . . . if I would just stop.

Now don't get me wrong, I am not being manipulative. I am legitmately worn out. I can't even control myself at this point. I'm like a careening out of control car with no brakes flying down a steep, winding canyon road. Somebody help me stop!

Finally after everything has been tried, calm suddenly returns. Usually the cure is just letting me scream and cry for awhile (up to an hour) and after being fed and gently bounced in my hammock to some accompanying soft singing, I finally fall asleep. The witching hour is over. Until tomorrow.