I first read this book while I was in college, trying to research great books to read in the classrooms I was doing clinical hours in. I didn’t actually read it to any students until my student teaching days, when I chose to use it as the daily read-aloud book to my sixth graders. The students could choose to read their own book silently or listen along. I was amazed at how many of the kids still enjoyed being read to and listened to my reading.

I will never forget the look of my favorite student’s face (I had nicknamed him “Art” for reasons I’m cloudy about today) when I got to the sad part of the book. He cried. Huge tears silently rolling down his face as he sat in the front row hanging on every word that I read. I wanted to cry, too. But I was the teacher.

Bridge to Terabithia is a wonderful story about children. About childhood. About being afraid and about being loved. About friendship and about family. It’s a story that reminds us that making the choice to welcome in a new friend can often be the most defining moment of our life.

If you plan to see the movie, I encourage you to read the book first. There is nothing in the world like being lost in the pages of a great book. This one won’t take you long, but keep the tissues nearby. If you plan to let your children read it, I recommend reading it to them, no matter what age they may be. Paterson chose to use a few words I wouldn’t necessarily include myself, so I prefer to read the book aloud and skip over those unnecessary words. I also like gauging my son’s reactions to various things in the book – he’s a ten year old fifth grader, just like the main character, Jess.

I handed our copy of the book to my neighbor this morning when she dropped off her daughter. I gave her the same recommendations I just mentioned above. She stared at me as though I were asking her to give her daughters poison and said, “My friend read this book and said she cried and cried.” I do not think shielding our children from saddness or sorrow helps them to grow as human beings. Jess learned to face his own fears in the book, as should our own children. Saddness and sorrow are parts of life.

If you know what happens in the book, please don’t reveal it in the comments. While I didn’t want LM to suffer unnecessarily, he was disappointed last night that his friends had already told him the ending. It’s worth the experience.

I shared the other day about Eli picking out a new toy at the pet store. His frog is his new best friend. In the crate, out of the crate, whatever room he is in, Eli knows where Frog is at all times. If you call him to go outside, he’ll come running with his frog in his mouth, as if the stuffed thing would like to venture out into the snow. We take it away when we put the leash on, but the minute you let him back in the door, he bounds up the stairs and snatches up Frog in his mouth and prances around the house as if he just won Olympic gold.

LM went out to fill the bird feeders the other day in the snow, and we let Eli out on the deck for the first time. I didn’t realize he had Frog with him until he turned around. I swear, if that dog could talk he was telling me, “Na na na na na na na!!!” I sure hope Frog enjoyed his moment in the snow.

Watching a movie is one of my favorite Saturday afternoon indulgences, and Notting Hill is one of the few “chick flicks” that I have watched numerous times. I’m not sure exactly what I love most about this movie; the wonderfully imperfect characters that all adore each other unquestionably; the story of the most unlikely love being not only possible, but desireable; the setting, quaint London, full of quirks and novelties not found in my own life; the accents – it’s just a cute little package of a movie that I love. Perfect for a cold, windy Saturday.

You’ll pardon me if I go dream of my own Englishman with a cute little home with a blue door and a mail slot and a fantastically charming sense of humor (not that I’m any movie star…it just seems as unlikely for this American girl…)

Have I mentioned this movie has a fantastic soundtrack? (“You say it best, when you say nothing at all…”)

And so this is how it happens. Word gets out that you played fantasy football, and then somehow the wrong people find out that you won your league even though you kept really quiet about it (really) and when asked you attributed it to the biggest fluke in history, and the next thing you know, you’re being pressured to join the fantasy baseball league they are putting together at church. Initially, they sell it as being easy and not time-consuming, and no, you don’t have to actually WATCH a lot of baseball (cause I don’t anymore) and blah, blah, blah, and you actually convince yourself that maybe this is a good way to meet more people, and hey, they do have a get together for the draft, don’t they? And then your mind wanders further and you figure that the league will be mostly men, right? So here’s a simple way to meet a dozen men you didn’t know before, how bad can that be? And next thing you know, you’re nodding and saying, “Oh sure, I’ll give it a try” and then they hand you a MAGAZINE and tell you it will be helpful to read up and study a bit before the draft, and oh, have you met the other league members? Let me introduce you to a few…. (as you take note they are all married)….and you slowly realize the only interaction you’ll have with fellow league members is via the computer and not really getting to know anyone at all…

UM, YEAH. So, about that baseball thing….

Note: I don’t think it’s time to panic just yet. If there was money involved or if this were say, a HOCKEY league (heaven forbid!) then you would have cause to worry. Immediate action would be required to transport me to the nearest psych ward and admitted without the option of release. Until then, don’t panic. Or just panic a little maybe. Yes, definitely panic a little. This is me. Eliza Jane. And we are talking baseball.

1. “Dear ElizaJane: Thank you for your interest in employment as a Widget Finder at our company. A search committee has been established and will be reviewing resumes and selecting qualified candidates to interview. If your resume meets the established criteria, you will be contacted by the search committee to initiate the next steps in our recruitment process. Should you not hear from us, your resume will be retained for two months to be considered for future vacancies.” actually means, “Dear ElizaJane: Thanks so much for wasting your time sending us your resume and carefully crafted cover letter. While we appreciate your interest in the job you are overqualified for at our company, there is no way you will ever be interviewed because the President’s daughter’s friend’s neice’s pet turtle has already been granted the position and we are simply going through the motions. Should you not hear from us, be delighted that your mailbox was not inundated with yet another ‘you suck’ letter as we chose instead to simply shred your ridiculous resume after spending much time laughing at the way you made filing seem so important. Best wishes for your life stuck in the most mundane job in the world.”

2. Suggesting to a company in your cover letter that you will be coming to Michigan within the next month and could schedule an interview during that time frame will not increase your chances of getting said interview despite pardoning the company from paying for the trip.

3. Despite agonizing over every word and character in your resume and cover letter, the admin in charge of your rejection letter can still erroneously address it to: Mr. ElizaJane.

4. Despite a degree in Elementary Education and four years in event planning experience, you can still fail to receive so much as a phone call regarding a position planning events in local schools.

5. Do not expect any special consideration when applying for a position to a company where you know the man in charge relocated from the midwest to Michigan for exactly the same reasons you are (as stated in your cover letter). He will not be sympathetic at all.

6. The ease of sending out resumes and cover letters electronically also translates into the speed with which you may be rejected. 24 hours is apparently plenty of time for some companies to give thorough consideration to your applicable skills and experience and deem them unworthy.

7. For all those days when you wished aloud that the mail would bring something other than bills, months of rejection letters will make you quickly recant that statement and beg for something from Verizon.

8. Recognizing that your current job needs to change no matter if you relocate to Michigan or not, expanding your search to include local PA jobs will only double the number of times you are rejected.

Sigh. I’m trying to keep an open attitude, giving consideration to graduate school, and other opportunities here, in case this is God’s plan for us. If nothing else, I’ve at least learned how to have thicker skin!

I have been an avid reader of Katrina’s blog for awhile now and since the first day that I stumbled across her writing, I have become an avid fan of Katrina herself. Not only is she a wonderful wife, mother and friend, but she has a gift with words.

Today she wrote words that will rumble through my soul all day- perhaps all weekend, and only because I know what an incredibly beautiful soul she is, will I not feel an ounce of envy for her gift, for I know it is directly from God and I know, that Katrina embraces it fully.

Katrina, you are a poet. In your words, in your family, in your life. You make all things more beautiful.

I have jumped the shark. I didn’t even realize “Lost” was on last night until I saw the red light on my DVR come on at10pm. I had no interest in quickly switching over to “Lost” nor did I replay the DVR later to see what I had missed.

Maybe, some day down the road, I’ll watch to see what all I’ve missed. But only when I hear significant rumors from many sources that the show has decided to start doling out answers and not just questions.

Until then, anyone want to do coffee on Wednesday nights?

Bear asked George where he went on his field trip today at school. “We went to the funeral home.” Bear looked quizzically at Jules, wondering when the school district started taking Kindergarteners to funeral homes. “He means the nursing home.” Oh George.

Most of the funny stories that come my way from Michigan have to do with my adorable if not mischievious nephew, George (here or here or here or here). This weekend, my sister learned that Little Bird wasn’t necessarily immune from blog-worthy anecdotes.