I picked up One Sunday Morning at the library, knowing nothing about it. Yes, my bad habits continue, but at least now they don’t cost me anything but time.

There’s nothing remarkable about this story. It’s the story really, of five women in New York and the scandals that traverse their social lives. While the cover touts that the ending is “jarring” I found nothing of the sort. The ending was predictable and foreseen and quite banal.

It’s a quick read, a simple story, all things considered. The characters are shallow, with little to delve into as a reader. Motives and actions are superficial and unremakable.

My recommendation: leave it on the shelves.

“Hey, LM, while you’re up, could you hand me my library book from my teacher’s bag?”

“Sure, Mom.”

“Oh, LM? I also need my glasses from my pocketbook.”

“I’m beginning to understand why you wanted kids, Mom.”

“You’re finally catching on, LM.”

“But what would you have done if you didn’t have me?”

“I would have had other kids, LM.”

“Yeah, but what if you didn’t have other kids to be your slaves?”

“I would have adopted.”

“Yeah, but what if you had NO kids whatsoever to fetch things for you?

“Well, LM, I guess I would have spent more time training the dog.”

Sharing a moment with Dad as LM opens his gift.

A pool party that brought out George’s giggles.

And Birdy’s smile.

George passed the swimming test and was thrilled to be able to go off the diving boards.

Having fun with friends from school and church.

LM forgot the key to the high dive is NOT to look down (he still jumped)!

It’s all fun and games until Uncle Bear comes along (and makes it even more fun!)

CAKE!!

And presents!

LM and his guests had a great time. We’re so grateful to my sister and Bear for providing such an awesome pool party for everyone to enjoy!

George was ready for the pitch.

With a hit, George found himself on first.

His teammates moved him around the bases.

Rounding second.

And crossing the plate to score a run.

He even played his position well!!

Do you suppose they are discussing free agency?

*Despite my love for several sports, LM has shown little interest in the years in anything athletic. His only exposure to baseball had been a trip to Baltimore several years ago to see my cousin play ball, or the games he has seen on television. He thought he was well prepared for George’s game by bringing binoculars. Boy, was he surprised to find our seats were in the front row along the third base line with a perfect view of the entire field!!

I just can’t figure out where the years have gone. Today, LM turns 12. My martian speaking Heybub; my cord-loving little boy; the one who would clap every time he heard music, even at the grocery store; my boy who could read Cat in the Hat at 4; my Little Man is 12. TWELVE. A dozen years have gone by in a blink.

Tomorrow, we will party. Today, we will savor our time together (and by time together, I mean LM playing his new PS2 game, until he opens his gift from his father (Nintendo DS) and then watching a couple movies together). Tomorrow, we will have 30+ people from school and church join us for a swim party provided by my sister. (Yeah, she’s cool like that.) and then we will have LM’s favorite meal out at my sister’s house (burger on the grill, corn on the cob and fruit salad).

Hug your children. Love every single moment you have with them. Treasure the tears, the sorrow, the heartache, the joy the preciousness of the everyday. It’s going by way too fast. Tomorrow he will be gone.

But today, we will celebrate.

This morning, as most mornings go, I stood at the bus stop before the sun has risen with Eli at my side to see LM off for his school day. And this morning as every morning, we said goodbye and I headed back to the house with the dog.

Only it struck me this morning.

LM says, “Love ya!” first to me as he boards the bus. And I always respond with “Love you, too!” I’ve always let him say it first as it’s his dignity at stake (even if there are only three witnesses to his proclamation including me).

I wonder, as my boy turns 12 tomorrow, how many more days do I have until he won’t say it anymore? How many more days until he’s embarrassed that I say it at all? How many more days will he even let me walk him to the bus each day?

How many more days do I have to cherish these moments?

Please let them be many.

Please.

I have found, if I just turn on the local sports station for any and all Tigers’ games, it makes the yelling and screaming and occasional cheers from my neighbors make more sense.

It doesn’t decrease my disdain for apartment living, nor does it drown out the noise, it just gives it a reference point that at the very least gives some reason for the commotion.

For now, I guess that’s the best I can do.

(Although I admit, watching the beat the Yankees this week has been a perk in and of itself!)

Stacy allerted me to a new book by the author of Peace Like a River. I found it on the HotPicks list at our library and brought it home eager to dive in. Within a few days I set it back down again remarkably disappointed. Remembering Peace Like a River as a fantastic novel, I returned to the library to return So Brave and checked out Peace once again. Three days later, I am remember why I loved Peace so very much and wondering how on earth did Enger follow up a novel like this one with So Brave?

While I highly recommend Peace Like a River to anyone who hasn’t read it, and even to those who have, trust me, it’s as great the second and third time as the first, I equally suggest restraint for those rushing out to buy So Brave. Check it out of the library first. Save your money.

So Brave tells the story of a writer, who by strange circumstances ends up on a journey to Mexico with an outlaw of sorts. Neither character was profoundly interesting to me. Their partnership was a bizarre arrangement at best and I never felt compelled enough to understand the purpose of the journey to begin with. It was a slow moving tale the likes of which even the wonderful story telling voice of Enger could not redeem.

But again, even a lousy second novel cannot diminish the wonderful tale Enger created in Peace Like a River. I’m not sure when I sold and gave away my books how it slipped through the cracks as I don’t own Peace any longer, but I’ll cherish my days of borrowing it from the library.

I might even persuade LM to give it a read. I suspect he might enjoy it, too.

…to a late Michigan frost…

…flowers from my sisters yard that were going to perish tonight. Instead she let me take them home and enjoy their beauty for a few more days.

Thanks, Sis. (And while I won’t say it often, I’m actually thankful for the cold spell tonight.)

(Oh, and don’t mind the dirt on her face. That’s just part of her costuming for performing arts. I’ll have to blog about that later, too.)