Edgy Mama

My girl saw my top ten list and wants to contribute her own (she’s home sick today, so we’ve been reading, writing, and talking about books–a typical day in the EM household).

1. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling. “I thought Sirius Black was a bad guy, but he wasn’t,” says the girl.

2. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson. “It’s so funny. I like it when the teacher is scared of the cat,” says the girl.

3. Stuart Little by E.B. White.

4. The Trumpet of the Swan by E.B. White.

5. Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White. “E.B. White is a great author,” says the girl.

6. Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie.

7. The Wizard of Oz by Frank L. Baum. “I like the cowardly lion,” says the girl.

8. The Minpins by Roald Dahl.

Just in time for the holiday spending frenzy, I offer you my top ten reads of 2005. These are not necessarily books that were published in 2005, though a few were. Number One is number one–my top read of my year. The others are listed in no particular order. Enjoy!

1. A Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. My number one pick for 2005. This novel may be my number one pick for the 21st century. A book about books and mysteries and love and betrayal and revenge and death and life and joy. Delicious. Read it.

2. gods in Alabama by Joshilyn Jackson.Read this book, because it’s hilarious and moving and a page-turner. Joshilyn (I can refer to her by her first name because I kind of know her) is a fantastic new voice in Southern fiction. She’s funny with a dark side–if Flannery O’Connor had been a stand-up comedian, she’d have been Joshilyn Jackson. gods in Alabama has all the right ingredients: love, loss, betrayal, revenge, murder, and lots of heart. It’s eccentric and funny (did I say funny already?) and a joy to read. Joshilyn’s blog is a hoot as well.

3. Better Homes and Husbands by Valerie Ann Leff.My book group read this interwoven collection of short stories because Valerie is a local and a couple of the our members know her. She came to our discussion of her book and later, asked if she could join the group (we are such an interesting, intelligent group of women, after all). How cool is that? Better Homes is sparse, edgy and perceptive.

4. Candy Freak by Steve Almond. My only non-fiction pick for 2005. I too am a candy freak, and I’m thrilled to discover someone who is worse off than me. For more, see my blog testimony.

5. The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. Despite a few faults, it’s well worth reading. See my blog review for more.

6. Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. Amazing. A book I’d been meaning to read for years. O, why did it take me so long? Yes, it’s about an hermaphrodite, but it’s really about a family and time and love and acceptance (okay, I’m big on the “and” lists tonight). The story interweaves the characters and the historythat shapes them seamlessly, in a way that makes the events real and relevant. Eugenides, I await, breathlessly, your next novel.

7. Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. I suppose this book counts as non-fiction, though is memoir ever truly non-fiction? Burroughs is a brilliant writer. Scissors is intense and R-rated, but hilarious.

8. Lost Nation by Jeffrey Lent. I actually dreamt about this novel while I was reading it—that’s what a vivid read it is–dense with detail and oh-so-real. Set in Northern Vermont when it was barely frontier country, Lost Nation is rife with dirt, blood (pun intended), grit, and death. If you are not up for an intense, rather traumatic read, don’t read Lost Nation. But don’t write it off either. Because you will become so immersed in this world and these people that you will appreciate the relative comfort and softness of your life and be greatly relieved to have been born in less hardscrabble times.

9. Pattern Recognition by William Gibson. I never read Gibson’s Neuromancer, although, of course, I know of the novel. In what I’ve heard is typical of Gibson’s work, Pattern Recognition starts out slowly—giving the reader a chance to become deeply involved with the main character (or not, depending on the reader—in which case, she can stop reading). So, when the action takes off (if the reader has stuck with it) she is totally involved with the fate of said character. And the book does take off. The techo-jargon, computer-geek stuff is completely accessible, even for people like me who only recently learned the phrase “html code.” I feel cooler just for having read this novel. And William Gibson must be one of the coolest people in the universe.

10. The Dive from Clausen’s Pier by Ann Packer. I have not quite finished this book, but, after a dry spell of starting but not finishing several books, I’ve become totally obsessed with The Dive. The novel contains the most real and moving sex scenes I’ve ever read (though few and far between, sadly). Some random witch at my son’s nursery school Christmas program today saw me reading the book, and said, “Oh, I saw that movie on the Lifetime channel recently.” Loser.

My newish laptop, which I adore so much that I named it AF’s Solace, is messing with me. A couple of days ago, he (because all my favorite toys are male) decided not to let me send e-mail for hours. And no it wasn’t my server or my router or my effing connection. Then, suddenly, for no rhyme or reason, e-mail service resumed.

Now, he, my Solace, will not let me access my beloved blog, Edgy Mama. For two days, except when the stars are aligned and Mars is in retrograde, every time I try to open my blog, I get the message that MY site is “under construction.” No, it’s not. Oh, and no one else seems to be having this little problem. You, my friends, are reading and commenting away, while I sit lonely and bedraggled on the sidelines of my own life.

Perhaps the lights from the Christmas tree next to my desk have clogged a circuit pathway. Perhaps my microwave has sent out scrambled carcinogenic waves. Perhaps I should be wearing aluminum foil on my head as I type.

Regardless, I find myself Solaceless.

And, thanks, Ash, for posting this for me.

Blogging 4 Books is LIVE NOW.

Crossposted from Joshilyn Jackson’s blog (with minor edits from EM):

Welcome to Blogging 4 Books. The Original Rules and the FAQ are hosted on The Zero Boss, because he made it up.

The short version: You blog on a chosen topic. You post a link to your blog entry in the comments below this entry (on Joshilyn’s blog–though I’d love it if you post a link here as well). B4B closes at MIDNIGHT your time on Wednesday, December 14.

If you have no blog, you write the essay and cut and paste it (no attachments please) into an email to Anne Fitten (the Bloggess behind Edgy Mama) and ask her sweetly to host it for you. She is also this month’s SPECIAL! GUEST! BLOGGER! She will narrow the entries down to seven.

If you are one of the seven finalists, your entry will be read by author Lara M. Zeises. She will pick first, second and third place. First place gets a signed first edition of her new YA novel, Anyone But You, which was a Teen People Top Ten Pick.

And now, THE TOPIC!

In ANYONE BUT YOU, Seattle notes that “family, it turned out, was something you really could choose for yourself.” Write about someone you’ve chosen to be a part of your family (biological, spiritual, vocational, etc.) and what that person has brought to your life.

GO!

EM: Shoot, I guess this means I can’t enter, because well, then I would have to recuse myself from judging, because, of course, my entry would be in the top seven.

Know, those of you who enter (and everyone should give it a try) that I’m a former English professor, and I hate typos and grammatical errors. So be forewarned. I’ll forgive one or two honest mistakes, but I beg you to proofread your work carefully. Thank you. Have fun.

Amazing writer Joshilyn Jackson (you all should buy, read, and/or gift gods in Alabama immediately) tagged me for a meme, in which you describe ten Book Secrets. I had no idea how many book secrets I keep, until I started telling them (o, and I threw in some poetry secrets as well.

Here are my top ten, in no particular order:

1. I got the chicken pox when I was thirteen and spent almost three weeks in bed, during which time I read compulsively (except when the pox caused my eyes to crust shut for a few days). At one point, I pilfered a bodice-ripper, titled Beulah Land, off our family bookshelf, hiding it under the pillow when either of my parents came into the room. My primary memory of the novel was reading my first description of oral sex–something I’d never heard of or even imagined (times are different now). Steamy!

2. I own approximately twenty copies of Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass, including a pop-up, a Barry Moser illustrated copy, a 1923 edition, and a reproduction of the original, titled Alice’s Adventures Under Ground.

3. I took a graduate-level seminar on James Joyce to force myself to read Ulysses, the only novel I can think of that I both love and hate with equal passion.

4. I still buy and read what is now termed “young adolescent” literature on a regular basis.

5. I think Stephen King is an underrated god among writers.

6. The only way I survived a three-day solo in the mosquito-ridden wilds of Maine on an Outward Bound trip that I’d chosen to attend was by singing snippets of poetry to myself, including all of Jabberwocky and The Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat, most of Tennyson’s Ulysses, and bits of The Second Coming and The Road Not Taken. Yes, it is a wonder I’m not more psychotic.

7. The reason I know The Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat by heart is because when I was in third grade, my Brownie troop took a trip to a nursing home, where an old lady recited that poem. I was so moved that I went home, memorized it, then recited it for her on our next visit to the nursing home.

8. I was asked to read two longish poems at my fifth grade graduation. I thought that I had to memorize them, so I did. Supposedly, my recitation moved a number of adults in the audience to tears.

9. I’m still in love with Heathcliff. Passionately.

10. Every January, I throw a Burns Night Party in honor of the birthday of the great Scots poet, Robert Burns. I cook and serve somewhat traditional Scottish fare, though real haggis has to be imported from Edinburgh, which seems a waste as no one I know would eat it anyway. One year, I did call a bunch of slaughterhouses to ask if I could purchase a sheep’s stomach, but it’s against FDA code or some such nonsense. Anyway, the point of the party is less the food than the Scotch whiskey and the bawdy poetry.

In fact, I’ve just, at this very moment, realized that Robbie Burns is the patron poet of Edgy Mama. Here’s a taste of the great man from his poem Nine Inch Will Please a Lady :

“It’s no the length that makes me leap,
But it’s the double drivin–
Come nidge me, Tam, come nudge me, Tam,
Come nidge me o’er the navel!
Come let loose and lug your battering ram,
And thrash him at my gyvel!”

So, I tag Lu, Chelsea, Theseus, Ash, and Rio. O, what the heck, you’re all tagged. Just let me know in the comments if you’re playing.

“It turns out that our search for a mate is governed in part by odors. The evidence comes from something called the Sweaty T-Shirt Experiment.

Volunteers wear T-shirts for many days without showering (they really don’t shower for many days? How many? Or do they just wear the T-shirt for many days without washing it?–EM). The test subjects smell the shirts and answer questions, including ‘How attractive is this person?’

Results indicate that we tend to like the odor of someone who is dissimilar to us in a certain complex of genes involved in disease resistance. We seek to fill a genetic gap, of sorts–kind of like you’re a mumps-resistant person, and you subconsciously desire someone resistant to measles.”

–From brilliant Washington Post staff writer Joel Achenbach’s monthly column for National Geographic Magazine

O yes. This explains so much. I read elsewhere that your sense of smell reacts more potently with your memory than any other sense. This is why the smell of rubbing alcohol immediately takes me back to the hospital birthing room (for some reason, snorting alcohol pads helps decrease nausea. Kind of). And why the smell of cinnamon is so redolent of childhood, of sticky buns carmelizing in the oven. And why I’m so often attracted to men who are of ethinically different backgrounds than mine, though I married a white midwestern guy of Northern European descent (I often tell E-spouse that I should have married an Asian guy, so our kids would have fewer ear infections).

But, scent, yes, is the strongest of aphrodisiacs, the strongest of markers. I know I could identify either of my children blind-folded, provided I could sniff the tops of their sweet heads. I know that a whiff of pheromone-laden musk does more for my libido than the sexiest film, the softest words, or the gentlest touch. And you?

Two of my favorite holiday traditions occur a few weeks before the actual day of celebration.

The first is our annual cleaning-out of old toys. My kids and I clean out drawers, baskets, and closets, putting toys that they no longer want or play with into bags to give to the local shelter.

My daughter is an expert at letting go, though my son, a typical male, is more territorial and has a difficult time parting with his toys. My daughter is so good at it that, last Christmas, upon opening a gift from her grandparents (in front of them, no less), she said: “I think we can give this one away, Mom.” Such the little diplomat.

Now I have two large bags of lightly used toys awaiting delivery. My girl wants to send them to tsunami victims, but I explained that there are local children who need toys as well (I don’t particularly want to mail a bunch of cheap plastic back to Asia). We are so lucky to have so much, and to be able to give, particularly at this time of year. I wish I had time to clean out my entire house, to give away everything I haven’t used or worn or noticed over the past year. Perhaps that will happen soon.

The second tradition I adore is putting up the Christmas tree. I love having a live, fragrant, beautifully decorated tree in my home. It sits, in fact, next to my desk, which is in the front corner of our living room. So, for three or four weeks, I get to nest here, even hide a little, at my computer, next to the tree.

We drove out to the country (20 minutes) on Saturday, to a tree farm that’s been run by the same family for three generations. A fourth is being raised there now. E-spouse and the kids played monster tag among the trees while I chose. Which I did quickly, as decisiveness is, for better or worse, my middle name. Then, the chainsaw, the baler, the tying of the tree to the roof of the mini-van, the rainy drive home, the tree stand, the lights, the decorations, the hot chocolate, the Christmas music, the beer. All good. Well, excepting the lights.

So, what are some of your favorite holiday traditions?

And don’t worry, we’ll get back to the health and sexuality questions soon (though we may stick more to health and psychology from now on).

O, and happy Monday.

Quickie Q&A time, for those questions asked that don’t need much foreplay (of course, all the quickie questions were asked by guys):

1. From LBB: Which do you prefer: Brut or Old Spice? Old Spice.

2. From Old Horsetail Snake: Uh, can you email me when this is over? Of course, Hoss. I know you’ll be back before then, though.

3. From Ash: Does size matter? Chelsea Girl says: yes. I say: it depends. The larger the chocolate bar, the happier I am.

4. From Ash: Where do you stand on women’s reproductive rights; when it comes to government’s role, would you say there should be more, less, or just the same level of government regulation in this realm? Less government regulation, particularly given the current administration’s quest to banish women’s reproductive rights back to the 19th century.

5. From Quincy: Why does it burn when I pee? Probably cystitis, but syphilis is an option as well. Rather than asking me, get thyself to a doctor hastily. Notice I’m answering, despite the fact that this is not specifically a question about women’s health, since Q is male.

I feel like Dr. Ruth, although, yes, Lucy from Peanuts is probably more appropriate. So many questions, so little time.

I’m going to start with one of Ash’s questions, because, well, I owe him one.

The question is: “Do you bear stretch marks or nether-region scars. If yes, for Moms and their SOs, are these turn-offs or turn-ons? If no, what’s the secret?”

I’m lucky enough not to bear stretch marks (okay, a couple faint ones on my hips). I do, however, have a C-section scar from the birth of my first child. It’s low and barely noticeable. I also have some perineal scarring and lots of broken capillaries from pushing out my second.

I think that women are much more likely than men to obsess about their birthing scars and other imperfections. In my experience, if men even notice scars, they don’t care. A friend once told me a story that illustrates my point. She was unshowered, wearing an unflattering sweatsuit, and vacuuming the living room. Her husband walked by and said, “You are so sexy.” She was shocked. But, you see, in his mind, she was wearing only an apron as she bent over to pick up a toy while caressing the vacuum handle.

So, to answer your question, Ash, most men see what they want to see. And if they are truly in love (or even just in lust), stretch marks and scars are just a small, and ultimately unimportant part, of the whole package.

Some women (myself included) also view their scars as battle wounds. Wounds that tell a story of life lived. My body is a map of my experiences. That having children has marked my body is right and appropriate.

Stay tuned for more.

Today I participated in a panel on Women’s Health and Sexuality at the local college. I was representing women in their 40s (I know you still don’t believe it, SC, sweetie). There were six women on the panel, ranging in age from 34 to 76. The audience were all young, college-aged women.

We answered questions, mostly concerning marriage, relationships, childbirth, nursing, sexual activity and interest. Hearing other women’s takes and perspectives on these experiences was fascinating. Because of the confidential nature of the panel, I’m not comfortable writing more about what transpired specifically.

However, I thought it would be fun to host a similar question and answer forum here on Edgy Mama. First of all, any burning questions for a 41-year-old wife and mother concerning women’s health and sexuality? Secondly, any burning questions for women of another generation or lifestyle? I’m guessing, given just whom I know in the blogosphere, that I can help you, my dear readers, answer your questions about the fairer race, while providing a forum for some healthy discussion.

One little caveat: in your questions, specificity is appreciated, lewdness is not. Unless you’d like to be spanked.