WFMW: Car Talk

I’d be curious to see a study on just how much time moms spend in the car with their kids. I’m thinking it’s a whole lot.

And while there are times when we’re in the car and I just want to blast some good music, I have to say that one thing that regularly works for me is:

Car Talk.

[No, not the NPR radio show (although Click and Clack are rather amusing).]

I’m talking about good old-fashioned conversation. In the car.

It seems that when I leave the radio off, when the cell phone is nowhere to be found, when I’m open and willing to chat, car rides foster all kinds of great conversations. There must be something about the distraction of passing scenery that tricks kids into opening up a little more or asking those questions that they might otherwise be afraid to ask.

I’ve enjoyed precious, heart-melting moments – like this one. I’ve survived some conversations that initially make me think – oh my, where is this going? Like the one last fall that started with, “Mom, will it hurt you when it’s time for the baby to come out of you?” I’ve discovered secret crushes, deep-seated dreams, hidden fears.

I honestly believe that some of my very best conversations with C. have taken place while in transit. And that’s enough to motivate me to make sure that I create the opportunity for more of them in the future. It works for me.

So next time you’re going somewhere with the kids – the grocery store, the airport, a school function – leave the radio silent and turn off your cell phone.

And see where the conversation takes you.

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Check out Rocks in My Dryer for more Works-for-Me Wednesday tips.

Adjectival Overload!

I almost put it down. I almost shut the book and put it away, never to be read again.

I usually don’t do that with fiction – once I start a novel, I keep on going until the end. After all, I want to – need to – know what happens with all the characters. But every once in a while, a book irritates me greatly, and tempts me to just stop in the middle, with no regard for how it all works out.

So it was with a novel I read recently. I won’t give you the title or the author, because the book certainly has its redeeming qualities, and I know the author put much time and research into his effort. (And besides, it’s not like I could write a better one.) But I will tell you – the abundance of adjectives nearly. drove. me. insane.

Here’s an example, with the name changed to protect the author:

Dressed in a spotless blue tunic and yellow mantle, the thin-faced fellow observed Greg’s scuffed and battered appearance with a grimace of disgust.

I italicized the adjectives there – 6 adjectives! In 1 sentence! And in case you were wondering, that works out to 26% of the sentence. Way too high a percentage, if you ask me.

I probably wouldn’t mind if that type of sentence just popped up here and there in the book. But no, that kind of sentence was sprinkled liberally on every page. Nouns that could very well stand on their own were barely noticeable amidst their descriptors. Instead of clarifying the nouns, the adjectives just weighted them down.

I persevered. Because I’m weird that way. But it will be a long time before I pick up another of this author’s books.

What book characteristic, writing style, or authorial quirk drives you nuts? What would make you put a book down, walk away, and never look back?

Fall Into Reading Challenge Update

In its first month, the Fall Into Reading Challenge is off to a roaring start!

Several of you – like Barb and Rachel – have already posted that you’ve had to add MORE books to your list because you were zipping right through your initial picks. I am impressed!

Others – like Shalee and Jennifer – have been sharing book reviews as you go. I love reading about the books everyone is reading, seeing your impressions and thoughts…and of course, adding to my own list of “books to read at some point.”

As for myself, I’m making progress. Five down, seven to go (not counting books to read with the kids). And four of those are already “in progress.” I think I’ll be adding a few more books to my list, but I am not “allowing” myself to do so until I get through the initial ones in any category. When I cross of the last non-fiction book, I’m allowed to add more non-fiction, etc.

I must admit that while I’m still sneaking in a chapter here and there from non-list books, the challenge has helped me to stay on track and get through the books that I’ve committed to reading. And while I haven’t loved every book I’ve read, I have appreciated the discipline and the accomplishment that come from sticking to the challenge.

So how about you? Where do you stand one month into the challenge? Has the challenge helped you? Do you need to add more books to the list? Or maybe take some off? I’d love to hear how everyone’s doing!

Blokus: pretty pieces, one rule, lots of fun

This week’s game review is of Blokus, a competitive, puzzle-like game that started out in relative obscurity but which has been growing in popularity lately. With three versions to choose from, a rule book that is practically unneeded because the gameplay is so simple, and great pieces, Blokus is a terrific family game that works for 2-4 players and takes about 20-30 minutes to play.

Blokus

In a nutshell: Inside the Blokus box, you’ll find the game board (which consists of 400 squares) and a variety of differently-shaped playing pieces in four colors. The pieces are also made up of squares, and they vary in size from 1 square to 5 squares (think: Tetris-shaped pieces). Each player (assuming you have 4) is given the 21 gamepieces in their color, and play begins. The basic rule: On your turn, place one of your pieces on the board; that piece must touch another one of your pieces – but ONLY by a corner. Pieces of the same color may not connect along an edge. There you have it – that’s it!

Now, mix in the fact that everyone else is trying to place their pieces on the same board, and the fact that you’re trying to figure out if you should use the square-shaped piece or the L-shaped piece and where is the best spot to put it so that you leave yourself some options for your next turn?, and oh yeah – that guy across from you is actually trying to block you (how dare he!), and you can see that the game may be simple to learn, but not so simple to win. The winner, by the way, is the one with the fewest “squares” on leftover pieces when no more pieces can be played on the board.

One of the great things about Blokus is that it appeals to all ages. Kids as young as 5 can play, but adults could also enjoy an intense game amongst themselves. Also, it’s perfect for building spatial skills – just sit down with your child and all the Blokus pieces, forget about the “game aspect,” and work together to see how many of the pieces you can fit on the board, following the “only corners touching” rule.

Also available: Travel Blokus – which is actually a fantastic 2-player version of the game, and Blokus Trigon – which takes the premise of Blokus and does it all with triangles instead of squares.

In summary:

Blokus

Number of Players: 2-4
Time required: 20-30 minutes
Ages: 5 and up
Where to buy: I saw Blokus in Target last week. It’s also available from Amazon.com and Time Well Spent.

Callapidder recommends it for: After Thanksgiving dinner with the family. Or any other time you’ve got a couple people together and 30 minutes to kill.

Read all of Callapidder’s Game Reviews HERE.

Time to face the truth

I think it’s time for me to set aside a little delusion I’ve been holding on to. I should, instead, face the miserable truth that’s staring me down. I am an Old Person. Now C. will tell you that I’m not old yet. He has decided that “old” starts at 50, so I’ve got more than a decade to go before I’m old in his book. But I realized last weekend that when teenagers interact with me, they must think things like, “Um, okay, whatever… You are so not hip.And you’re old.”

Yeah, I think that pretty much sums it up.

But I’ve been fooling myself for quite a while now into believing that I’m still young and cool. After all, I still get zits (oh, excuse me, I believe that at my age they are called “blemishes”), I still listen to music that makes my mother cringe (you know, with drums and guitars and stuff), and we say really hip things in our house. Things like “peeps.” And I’m not talking about those sugary creations that used to just show up at Easter but now make an appearance at every holiday. No, I mean we use “peeps” in a cool way, as in, “Yo, peeps, what’s up?” See how hip we are?

Yeah.

So, last Sunday at church, I ran into a lady whose daughter just started attending the college where Chad and I met and dated and eventually graduated from. I asked her how her daughter — we’ll call her Jessica (name has been changed to protect the innocent) — was enjoying her first semester. Lo and behold, Jessica had come home for the weekend with a new friend (we’ll call her Bekah), and the two of them were standing mere feet away.

The mom called the girls over, asked if Jessica remembered me, and told Bekah that I had gone to their college. She asked me what year I graduated. 1995, I replied. Bekah’s eyes widened slightly and then she said, “I think it’s changed a lot since you were down there.”

That was all I needed to hear.

“Oh yes,” I said. “You guys have all kinds of great things down there now. Right off the back of campus you have that Barnes & Noble and Panera and Linens & Things. All we had was Wal-Mart. Well, and we had the mall. But that’s up the road, you know. I remember walking to the mall in the rain – none of us had cars – and…”

And then I saw it. Their eyes were glazing over. And then my brain started to replay my words to me in slooooow mooottttiiiooonnn. “You guys…all we had…I remember…” I might as well have just said, “Kids these days. Don’t appreciate what they have. In my day, we had to walk to the mall in four feet of snow – and it was uphill both ways.”

Sigh.

In my defense, I loved our college, I love the town it’s in, and we talk regularly about “someday” moving back. We visit occasionally (one of my freshman year roommates is now an English professor there) and I am slightly jealous at all the great amenities they have now. So it doesn’t take much to get me started on the whole subject.

But I should have known better. I should have said, “Yeah, I think you’re right.” And then asked them if all the floors of the new academic building are in use yet. Or something else that pertains to them.

I caught myself, put an end to my old-folks-type rambling, and told them that I hope they have a good semester. But I’m sure that as I walked away, there was some giggling and eye-rolling and “what.ev.er” going on.

Oh well.