I am one tired mama.  My most recent weekend jaunt proves I forgot that this little creature is only six weeks old.

Which means I also forgot that having a six week old means I housed said six week old in my body less than two months ago.

Which means I am in a state of perpetual exhaustion, even when I’m sleeping.  Isn’t that one of Newton’s laws?  *A still-tired-from-her-nine-month-pregnancy-new-mama in motion will stay in motion because newborns are just so darn demanding.*

Last Thursday, my little family and I loaded up the car and set out for Cedar City to attend a book signing and meet my favorite author, Firoozeh Dumas (more on that further down).  Mapquest says the journey should only take 3 hours and 44 minutes.  Our total time?  Close to 6 hours.

I thought it wouldn’t be fun enough to simply take the most direct route, stopping to nurse only once.  No, why not add an hour for a scenic drive through a canyon, Nebo Loop?

(Even though the extra hour meant we had to stop for not one nursing, but two, it really was worth it.  Absolutely gorgeous.)

After two onesie changes because of unfortunate diapering experiences, we arrived at the meet-up point to leave our constantly jabbering nearly 4 year old (On a road trip, a preschooler’s mouth in motion will stay in motion until…well, it just never stops.) in the safe care of her aunt and uncle, found a place to eat dinner, completed yet one MORE nursing session and headed into the auditorium at Southern Utah University where I excitedly met Firoozeh Dumas.

Firoozeh is the author of Funny in Farsi and Laughing Without an Accent, two laugh out loud memoirs that give you great insight into the positive aspects of Iranian culture (which is refreshing because who ever hears happy stories about that misunderstood culture?) and show that we are all more similar than we think.

I have loved her books for a long time and have always said I’d like to meet her in real life. When I found out she would be in my state, not even a babe in arms could prevent me from being at the event.  (My husband actually had the babe in arms that night so I could enjoy the evening, and it’s a darn good thing for me that he did. 10 minutes into Firoozeh’s talk, he had to go stand in the back to calm the little party pooper.)

I have emailed Firoozeh a couple times to tell her how much I enjoy her books.  Before I left for this trip, I emailed Firoozeh again to tell her I would be at her talk and that I was excited to meet her.  She was kind enough to come into the audience and say hello to me when I arrived on the front row.  Alas, our conversation lasted all of 30 seconds because important people in suits needed to speak to her.

In her talk (to a packed house), Firoozeh shared anecdotes from her life and had everyone laughing.  She’s just as funny in person as she is on paper.  After her talk, I headed out to the book signing and just happened to be second in line.  I wanted to have a little bit of time to talk to her, but that woman has FANS!  The line behind me seemed endless from where I was standing and I didn’t want to be rude to the waiting people, so I got my books signed, told her again how much I like her writing and was off!

I was sad I didn’t get more time to tell her what an inspiration she is.  I wanted to tell her that when I innocently picked up her book in the library 3 years ago, her words convinced me that I have something to say as well.  That as soon as I finished reading her book, I started writing and I found a joy I didn’t know I was missing.  I wanted to tell her that her positive, cheerful and funny outlook on life, even in the face of prejudice and persecution, is incredibly uplifting and that I want to be a more patient person with my fellow human beings because of things she has written.

And I want to tell YOU to go buy her books!  Her words will uplift you and help cheer you.  Bonus: you’ll burn calories from all the laughing!

I am in the middle of a crazy but interesting book:  “The Year of Living Biblically: One Man’s Humble Request to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible.” It’s a book for my book group and not one I would have picked up on my own, but one I am finding myself thoroughly enjoying.  It’s just so very unique.

The title says it all.  For reasons I don’t fully understand, the author, A.J. Jacobs, decides to adhere to the rules of the Bible as literally as he possibly can for one whole year.  And when he says literal, he means literal.

He wears all white because of a verse that says something like, “Let your garments be white,” something that most people translate figuratively, but which he chooses to live literally.

He grows a beard,

carries a staff, blows a horn on the first day of each month, writes the 10 Commandments on his door post and refuses to sit on any furniture his menstruating wife has sat upon.  He tries to stone a Sabbath breaker (with a pebble) but chickens out (thank goodness).  Strangely enough, he does find opportunity to stone (pebble) an adulterer, which is quite possibly the funniest part of the book so far.

Along the way, he sets up a network of spiritual advisers from different sects who he can consult when he doesn’t understand how to follow a certain rule.  That part is fascinating to me because I have learned cultural and historical facts that help explain some of the more perplexing rules in the Bible.

But the whole thing is bizarre.  As a Christian, I believe that Jesus fulfilled the laws of sacrifice and rituals of the Old Testament times with laws of love and service, so many of the laws Jacobs chooses to follow seem obsolete to me.  However, I do understand and appreciate that Jews (and possibly other religions- I’m not up on my world religions) do follow many of the laws of the Old Testament.  But even the most orthodox religions don’t follow all the hundreds and hundreds of rules literally.

But A.J. Jacobs does it all.  And the kicker?  He doesn’t even believe in God, although from a few changes in attitude so far, I suspect by the end of the book, he will have a different outlook.

It’s outlandish, but I very much admire his determination to understand something he doesn’t believe in.  How many of us devote even a portion of ourselves to understanding something we wholeheartedly disagree with?  If I could spend even a portion of my time getting outside myself and my comfort zone, how much better would I understand my fellow being?

Thank you all SO much for your hilarious responses to my post about Twilight.  I thoroughly enjoyed reading the comments!  One friend did tell me that a Twilight lover she knows couldn’t get past two sentences of my post, which made me realize that my feelings on the book are, of course, not shared by everyone.

And really, no matter how much I poke fun, Stephenie Meyer is laughing the loudest and the longest each time she cashes her royalty checks.  However ridiculous I think the book is, that is one smart woman.

But today, I want to share a very cute story with you.

Kirby Puckernut and the Christmas Surprise is a picture book written by a local Utah author, Alicia Richardson.  Alicia based the story on a tradition she began long ago with her children.  Each Christmas season, she would bring out an elf, Kirby Puckernut, and put him somewhere in the home.  The children would have to be good so the elf would tell Santa good things about them.  The story Alicia wrote revolves around this tradition.

When I first heard the premise of the book, I thought of The Elf on the Shelf but this is really nothing like that.  The Elf on the Shelf kind of deserves a sarcastic Twilight-esque review from me but I won’t do that.  Suffice it to say that I don’t care for the writing, the story OR the pictures in that book.

Kirby Puckernut is much cuter and not even in the same realm as that other book.  The children write letters to Santa and put them in Kirby’s backpack for him to deliver directly to the Big Man.  They learn fun things about Kirby himself. And of course, they receive really fun letters back from Santa.  Kirby brings a bit of Christmas magic into the home and helps the teenager in the family believe in Christmas again.

Alicia used some of the actual letters her children wrote to Santa in her book which makes this story even cuter.  For instance, in one letter, the children ask Kirby who his girlfriend is.

I really love the story and the illustrations in the book.  It’s a little old for my 3 year old, but I think that an 8 year old or older child would really enjoy the story.  My 3 year old does love the pictures, though, and next year I think we will introduce the elf tradition into our home.

Alicia is releasing a limited number of books this year and next year she plans to release the book with an elf that you can use in your own home.

Check her out here.

I tried.  I really, REALLY tried.  I sincerely thought I was going to like Twilight and so I was secretly excited when Vanessa let me borrow her copy.  I waited a few days, so as not to seem too eager, then jumped into reading the book, fully anticipating a page turner I wouldn’t be able to put down.

Well, my friends, I have put it down again and again.  Somehow I made it to page 375 but I can’t bring myself to read even one more of the 498 pages.  I certainly wasn’t expecting the next great American novel, but I WAS expecting decent writing.  It’s a #1 New York Times Bestseller, after all.

Here is what I hate about the book.

1. The endless, meaningless lists of what Bella is doing- how she is preparing dinner, what she does before she goes to bed, what she does when she wakes up…it just goes on and on in the most uninteresting way and it has no relevance to the story.

2. Bella’s character.  She makes me want to scream because she is so stupid.

3. Edward’s character.  Why does she even like him?  He’s rude and annoying.

In case you haven’t read it yourself, I’ve written a summarized version here, and I’ve been kind enough to incorporate everything I hate.

Page 1-100

My name is Bella. I don’t really like people.

One day I decided to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich so first I got out the bread.  Then I got out the peanut butter.  Then I got out the jelly.  After that, I found a knife.  I spread the peanut butter on one piece of bread and the jelly on the other.  I put the pieces together.  I took a bite.

There is this really beautiful boy who sits next to me in class and acts like he hates my guts.  I want him.

There are three other really normal, attractive, fun boys who are all clamoring for my attention.  I won’t give them a chance because really, I want to be with Edward, the one who acts like I smell bad.

Page 100-200

Edward has rescued me a couple times which is pretty cool.  Every time he does, he gets angry with me and treats me like I’m an idiotic child but that just makes me want him more.

I did a little googling and have decided he’s a vampire.  Giddy up.

Page 200-374

Now that Edward’s secret is out, we’re having fun opening up to each other.  He loves to run his mouth along my neck and inhale my delicious scent.  He constantly tells me how dangerous he is.  Once he told me he could snap my neck if he got a little too excited.  He’s so sweet.

He gets exasperated with my mortality and inability to do simple things like buckle my seatbelt, and so he is constantly picking me up, carrying me around and doing things that I regularly see mothers do for their tiny babies.  I think we have a great relationship.

It’s not at all weird that I’m a part of this vampire world where my boyfriend has to constantly hold himself back from eating me.

The end.

———

Ok, ok, I know it’s not entirely fair because I haven’t finished the book but I’m so DONE.  I admit, even though I can’t subject myself to anymore of the book, I am quite curious about the story.  So I asked my German daughter how it all ends and she told me everything, including Bella’s eventual vampire baby in some later book.  I don’t think I missed much.

I’m offline this week, but am re-posting some of my old favorites.  The subject of this post, the book Laughing Without an Accent, by Firoozeh Dumas, is still one of my absolute favorites.  I originally posted this in 2008 sometime.

I have a fantastic memory of my childhood.  My brothers believe I even make up some of our family’s history because they can’t remember details that I pull out whenever we get to reminiscing.  

I have one vivid memory as a little girl of walking into the grocery store with my mother.  Two Hispanic ladies were walking out speaking in Spanish.  This was nothing new for me to hear.  But then, they laughed.  I was SHOCKED!  Their laugh sounded just like my laugh.  All I could think was, “What?  Spanish people laugh in ENGLISH?”

When I was in the library last week, I passed by a book and glanced at the title, Laughing Without an Accent.  My memory came flashing back and I had to snatch up the book!

Sometimes when you pick up a book you know nothing about, it can be scary.  But I was NOT disappointed by this fabulous memoir by Firoozeh Dumas.  She shares stories of growing up in Iran and America with such wit that you wish she could narrate your own life.  She gives such great detail that you feel you are a part of her family. 

She describes the obsession and competition between her father and uncles to own the best and most velour jogging suits, her father’s weakness for good deals that leads him to buy desks and chairs that aren’t needed and don’t even fit in their house, her mother’s tendency to buy really bad designer knock-offs as gifts, her husband’s childlike reaction to removing the TV from the house, the monkey that escapes to her family’s window and befriends her.

Some of the chapters had me laughing out loud.  I even had my husband read to me some of the chapters again after I had already read them, so we could laugh together.

Amidst all the humor and great story telling, she shares such great insights about the important things that unite all humankind.  I loved this book and can’t wait to read her previous book, “Funny in Farsi.” 

I showed my face at our local library today after 2 months and found I had a $17.00 fee.  You see, back in April or May, I returned a CD without the little booklet.  Apparently, that little booklet is more important than the actual CD because it has a barcode on it.  And they just CAN’T put the CD back into circulation without the booklet and barcode.  Supposedly the barcode makes the CD traceable.  But judging by the repeated angry librarian phone calls I received over the last two months, I’m pretty sure the CD is traceable (to me, anyway) without the barcode.

I couldn’t find the blasted CD booklet anywhere.  I searched.  Believe me, I searched.  Instead of calling them and explaining this, I maturely avoided the phone calls and contemplated changing my number, then getting my 2 year old a library card I could use.  Unsure if that plan would work since I’ve become chummy with a few librarians who would recognize my face and might possibly thwart my attempt to scam the system, I decided to just not show up there again and instead start going to a different library.

But the other libraries are far away.  I’m the type of person who always has to be reading, so I went through books I own and have read in the past.   When nothing on my shelves interested me anymore, I began reading my prescription inserts.  I don’t have many prescriptions so that didn’t last long. 

Feeling lost and in utter despair because I have no book to read, I decided to clean out the car trunk.  And there it was: the CD booklet.  I sung Disney praises (because it was a Disney CD) and immediately took it down to the library, ecstatic but also full of shame.

I handed the silly booklet over to the librarian, sheepishly explaining that it was probably 2 months overdue.  I handed her my library card and was informed of my monstrous fee.

I nicely asked for a reduction and she took off $7.00

So, after paying $10.00, my daughter and I got reacquainted with our beloved library.  We read stories and signed up for the summer reading program.  After every 3 hours of reading to my daughter, she gets a prize.

Now that we can show our face in the library again (and even check out books), she’s going to be raking in the prizes.  Some day I will tell her how I sacrificed my pride so that she could enjoy cheap toys and crayons given to her for doing something we already do every day.

I really like reading humorous biographies and amazing true stories about people.  The books don’t always stick with me, but the stories do, when told well.  I’m impressed with the story telling of a hitch hiking gone bad; of a starving woman and her boyfriend spending hours trying to knock a fruit out of a tree, only to find that the fruit is not edible; of a father going on a TV game show and winning nothing, even though he could win the jackpot every time he watches the show.  Interesting, no?

Lacking amazing stories myself, I once stumbled upon a way to make my mediocre life sound really interesting and amazing through the story telling.  When you leave out boring details and make broad statements, you can really turn an ordinary event into an edge-of-your-seat thriller.  Or somewhere in between.

For example:

Doesn’t that sound terrifying?  It really happened.  I promise.  But let me fill in the details.

The man was my good friend.  He had been visiting friends in California.  I had been visiting my family.  So we were road-tripping from California back to Utah to start a new semester.  Somewhere in the Nevada desert, he told me he had a gun in his glovebox.  I really did feel a little bit of fear because I’m not a gun gal.  And I really did wonder why he carried a gun.  When I wondered that out loud, he told me it was for protection. 

The end.

The truth is boring.  The detail-less truth is much more exciting.  Try it out.  Tell me the truth about your day, but leave out the boring details that make it sound oh-so-ordinary.

What are your favorite books?  What are you reading right now?  We’re talking about the best of the best books over at Always Something to Talk About this week.

Check out today’s post.  Our hilarious guest shares how books and stories often overtake her and she needs her husband to bring her back to reality.  Do you relate?

Yesterday, I told you a little bit about this book.

Sarah’s Key, by Tatiana de Rosnay

I told you how sad it made me. But I realized that I may have discouraged you from reading it. Please do read it. It opened my eyes (my tear-filled eyes) to something I needed to know about. The events described in the book are not well known. The French police rounded up thousands of French Jews and sent them to concentration camps. We never hear this side of the story-the cruelties done by a country other than Germany- but it needs to be heard. The victims’ stories need to be told and we need to know them.

Sarah’s Key tells a fictional story of a Jewish girl and her family taken by French police in 1942. While the story of the family is fiction, it tells of real events. At the same time, de Rosnay weaves the story of a modern day American woman living in France who discovers the events of 1942. De Rosnay effectively makes you understand the past emotions of the Jewish victims while also telling a modern day story. Both stories are interesting. Both are page turners. And they are both wrapped up in one little book.

I’ve had a heavy heart this past week.  We found out that a really horrible, senseless and tragic thing happened to somebody my husband knew when he served a mission in Florida for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  Even though I did not know this person, I feel the grief and pain of the tragedy.  My husband and I have been struggling to make sense of things, and many tears have been shed as we realize that we just can’t.  There is no sense to be made of some situations.

And then, I read this book.

Sarah’s Key, by Tatiana de Rosnay.

The story is about a little known roundup of Jews in France during World War II when thousands of French Jews were sent to their deaths. And they were sent by the French police, not the Nazis. What’s worse, is the story of the children. 4,000 Jewish children between the ages of 2 and 12 were taken from their homes in Paris with their parents. Once they were in a camp, away from the big city and the eyes of neighbors, the children were violently separated from their mothers. Children and mothers were bludgeoned, beaten and drenched in water in order to make the separation happen. The mothers were then shipped off to Auschwitz, and the children remained in the camp, parentless. After a few days, they too were shipped off to their deaths.

I’ve read so many stories about the Holocaust, but this was the first story I read that was primarily about children. As a mother of a toddler, it was, perhaps, the hardest to read. I sobbed while I read about the confused toddlers who were left behind in this camp, without their mothers or even the ability to communicate what they needed.

These mothers were just like you and me. They made future plans with their husbands. They went on vacations. They sang and danced with their children. They kissed their babies’ noses and cheeks before putting them to bed in warm, safe places, covered with the quilt Grandma made and nestled next to the favorite comforting doll or toy.

I can’t make sense of the brutality. It’s so impossible to understand these acts.

With jolly Christmas going on, I’ve been struglling through this heavy heart to teach my daughter the story of Christ’s birth. It’s a beautiful story. But what is more beautiful is the love of Christ. His gospel saves. It fixes. It heals.

My daughter requested this video almost every day last week. “Wanna watch Baby Jesus,” she would say. So we would cuddle up and watch together. The song is beautiful and I repeatedly found my ears pricking up at the lines, “Truly He taught us to love one another…And in His name, all opression shall cease.”

The knowledge that Christ’s love has the ability to end these horrible things is the only thing that has comforted me while being immersed in stories of the ugliness of humans. The world has a long way to go, but I know that in Jesus’ name, opression will cease. The tragedy that happened to my husband’s friend in Florida, the victims of the Holocaust…there is no way to make sense of these things. But through Jesus, peace and love can and will be found.