Books in 2011: Part two

Until about a week ago I would have said that my favourite novel of all time (not just 2011!) was My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult. I loved it against my will; everyone seemed to like this book and to have to agree with them seemed predictable and boring. Alas, I was hooked and impressed from very early on until the end of the final chapter (during which I bawled), and had to admit that all of the positive reviewers of this book obviously had superb taste.

But I’m currently reading Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis, and the writing is so brilliantly vivid that I feel as though I’m watching a film, albeit very slowly, rather than reading the book. It has the potential to knock My Sister’s Keeper off the top of the list, although I won’t speak too soon - it could all go horribly wrong in the second half. The author was recommended by Marieke Hardy, whose writing I also have a little crush on. I used to love reading her blog, and since somehow discovering her Twitter handle I’ve been known to check in on her... well, let’s just say regularly. It’s the closest to stalking I have the energy and resources for.

This year I reserved a copy of Hardy’s first book You’ll be Sorry When I’m Dead at my library just after it was released (despite my speed, I was the third in line), and then, when my turn didn’t come around fast enough, I joined another library and was the first to read their new copy when it arrived a week or so later. Unfortunately, I didn’t love the book with the same passion I’d put into procuring a copy to read. As much as I love Marieke Hardy’s writing (I’m convinced I’d find her shopping lists inspiring), the book as a whole wasn’t completely satisfying. It was a collection of short autobiographical articles, told in no obvious order, some of which I enjoyed and some of which I didn’t, and I couldn’t help but think that she was wasting her stories on this format when she could have saved them for a novel instead. I’ve no idea if she’s planning to write one, but she should.

How I Became a Famous Novelist by Steve Hely wasn’t as tidy a story as My Sister’s Keeper, or as wonderfully told as Lucky Jim, but I have fond memories of it; it’s the book from this year that comes to mind most quickly when I’m asked for a recommendation. I think I was in just the right mood for it at the time; it kept me happily distracted throughout one not-fun hospital visit and was the friend with whom I shared my first Max Brenner hot chocolate in a hug mug.

I’ve already reviewed others that I’ve loved this year (A Praying Life by Paul Miller and Things the Grandchildren Should Know by Mark Oliver Everett, to name just two), as well as some I didn’t. The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas was by far the most talked about book in my world this year, coming up almost weekly in our Bible study group and sparking a lengthy debate on Ben’s blog (that I totally missed - boo!). I’ve given up telling people not to read it because I've noticed the prohibition seems to make them want to read it more.

So that was 2011 for me in books. I’m looking forward to a book-filled 2012!

Books in 2011: Part one

Below is a list of the books I read this year, compiled from memory and my library’s online loan history page. An asterisk appears before the titles of books I haven’t yet finished (some I started a looooong time ago!); all but one (the Grudem, of course) I plan to continue with in 2012.

I'm posting them for my sake rather than yours (my husband just asked, "Are you posting them just to make yourself look good?" - it's his job to keep me humble), and so that you can say, "Ooooh, I read that one this year too!" or, "Would you say this one's worth reading, then?" or, "So, how do you make your baby sleep?", if you want to.

 

Baby stuff/Motherhood                                                                                      

The Truth about Vaccines by Richard Halvorsen

The Panic Virus: Fear, Myth and the Vaccination Debate by Seth Mnookin

Deadly Choices: How the anti-vaccine movement threatens us all by Paul A. Offit

The Baby Sleep Book by William Sears

Baby Sleep by Andrea Grace

The No-Cry Separation Anxiety Solution by Elizabeth Pantley

The Baby Whisperer by Tracy Hogg

Save Our Sleep by Tizzie Hall

Baby-Led Weaning by Gill Rapley

Instinctive Parenting by Ada Calhoun

Raising the Best Possible Child by Jo Jackson King

The Mighty Toddler by Robin Barker

Missing in Action: How Mothers Lose, Grieve and Retrieve their Sense of Self by Anne M. Smollon

The Divided Heart: Art and Motherhood by Rachel Power

                                                                                                                                                                                   

Christian living

The Praying Life by Paul Miller

*The Blue Parakeet by Scot McKnight

*Scripture and the Authority of God by N. T. Wright

*The Church of Irresistible Influence by Robert Lewis with Rob Wilkins

                                                                                                                                      

Biography/Autobiography

Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom

Rebel With a Cause by Franklin Graham

Things the Grandchildren Should Know by Mark Oliver Everett

You'll be Sorry when I'm Dead by Marieke Hardy

All that Happened at Number 26 by Denise Scott

Enough Rope 4 with Andrew Denton

Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi

Bossypants by Tina Fey

Emergency Sex (and Other Desperate Measures) by Kenneth Cain

Encyclopaedia of an Ordinary Life by Amy Krouse Rosenthal

Too hard to categorise
One Red Paperclip by Kyle MacDonald

Stuff White People Like by Christian Lander

* Manhood by Steve Biddulph
                                                                                                                                                                                   

Marriage                                                                                                                   

Confessions from an Honest Wife by Sarah Zacharias Davis

Committed: A sceptic makes peace with marriage by Elizabeth Gilbert

The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman

Baby-proofing your Marriage by Stacie Cockrell, Cathy O'Neill and Julia Stone

                                                                                                                                                                                   

The role of women in the home and church                                             

Men and Women in the Church by Sarah Sumner

Beyond Sex Roles by Gilbert Bilezikian

Finally Feminist by John Stackhouse

How I Changed my Mind About Women in Leadership edited by Alan Johnson

*Evangelical Feminism and Biblical Truth by Wayne Grudem

                                                                                                                                                                                   

Fiction                                                                                                                       

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

In Cold Blood by Truman Capote

My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult

The Power of One by Bryce Courtenay

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok

The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas

How I Became a Famous Novelist by Steve Hely

The Scott Pilgrim series by Bryan Lee O'Malley

A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan

Bee Season by Myla Goldberg

*Lucky Jim by Kingsley Amis

All I want for Christmas...

...is a ceramic ornament of a giant Santa teddy bear riding a disproportionately small Noah's ark, from David Jones. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?!

Ouch

from here

It absolutely breaks my heart to watch other kids at the playground respond to my son’s gorgeous, eager eyes and friendly smile by roughly brushing him aside. He’s never physically hurt by their meanness, but shock and confusion are clearly written all over his face before it crumples and he starts to wail. No one warned me that my son’s hurts would hurt me. The lioness in me wants to rip the heads off the little brats who, completely unprovoked, treat him so unkindly.

And this is only kids who are too young to know better! What happens when my son’s older? When someone teases his haircut at school? Or he slips in soccer and misses the goal his team needs? Or he’s rejected by the girl he loves? Or he misses out on the job he’s desperate for? Just thinking about the inevitable disappointments he’ll face makes my insides ache; how will my poor heart survive him growing up?

Baby-proofing your Marriage by Stacie Cockrell, Cathy O’Neill and Julia Stone

This is the kind of book that makes me want to highlight full chapters because each paragraph is so scarily (“It’s like someone’s been watching us”) relevant and true. I didn’t highlight anything because the first copy I read was borrowed from a friend and the second copy was borrowed from a library, and (I assume) both of them would have been rather unhappy to find that I’d returned their books with a good third (at least) coloured in fluoro yellow. This book articulates so many of the fears and frustrations and changes in our relationship that I hadn’t yet worked out the words for, and it's practical. I LOVE practical things. Here's a sample quote, from page 22:

...after living much of our pre-parenthood lives as relative equals, it comes as a surprise when, post-baby, men and women start to assume different and not always complementary roles.

Or this, from page 25:

We are not complainers by nature. We’re pretty tough, actually. But new motherhood is relentless. The nonstop feeding and the lack of sleep wear you down, no matter how robust a woman you are.

Or this one on page 92:

Universally, people told us they want empathy more than they want action.

Or this, from page 234:

When we neglect our marriage, it wilts... Marriage is one of the few things we can ignore without immediate and dire consequences. If we ignore our job, we’ll get fired. If we ignore our kids, they’ll starve. But if we ignore our relationship, our spouse can live off the scraps for a pretty long time.

You get the picture. I‘d quote the whole book if that was legal.

I found the intros, outros and the chapter on score-keeping (“I’ve been running after this boy all day and you’ve been sitting at a desk; you’re not even close to needing a rest as much as I do,” etc.) the most pertinent and helpful, however the middle chapters on sex (*ahem*), in-laws (ours have better things to do than to try to out-babysit each other) and having more children (I feel tired just thinking about them) were incredibly interesting and reassured me that though things with us are bad, they could be a whole lot worse.

Baby-proofing your Marriage was the biggest turning point for me in thinking positively about the future of our marriage. Though our counsellor had told us that the early parenting years were hard for lots of couples, it wasn’t until I read that these three authors and numerous others quoted in the book agreed with her that I actually believed what she’d said. The book isn’t perfect, but it was exactly what I needed to read and I’m therefore happy to ignore its flaws. I will sing the praises of this book to all who care to listen, and plan to buy it as a baby-shower gift for all my expecting friends from now on (with strict instructions to read it (or re-read it) when the baby’s at least a few months old).

I score this book 17 out of 10.

Vicky

from here

My husband and I weren’t sure that we hated each other enough to qualify for marriage counselling – we’d never thrown anything at each other or even talked about actually separating – but some wonderful friends supported the idea to the point of giving us the money to go, which forced us to stop putting it off and finally make an appointment. Vicky is our marriage counsellor. She’s from the former Yugoslavia and has a heavy accent which leaves me following approximately 10 seconds behind most of the things she says.

Vicky: Do you think that vill verk?

Belle: [10 second translation pause]................Yes.

At the end of our first session Vicky told us that she‘s been married three (I was panicking: “Please don’t say times, please don’t say times!”) decades now, and remembers that the early parenting years were a struggle for her and her husband too. That first session was horrible. We left Vicky’s office with a few homework projects to report on at our next visit and travelled home separately, feeling emotionally battered. Fortunately, our two appointments since have been far less traumatic and far more helpful, perhaps because of books and discussions in between which have helped us to feel more hopeful about our chances of surviving together and therefore more willing to try to make that happen.

It’s quite scary to find that you’re terrible at communicating with someone you speak to every day, but Vicky is comforting and motherly in her guidance. She’s patient with us while we look at her blankly for 10 seconds after each question and get the giggles over the absurdity of our heated arguments about cheese graters. She's gifted at her job and she's insightful and wise and sweet. She is a blessing and a floatie for which I’m very thankful to God (and Kev and Amy).

The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman

Just in case you’ve never heard of it, this is a marriage book that proposes that all spouses communicate in one or two of five Love Languages (Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Receiving Gifts and Acts of Service), and argues that we need to learn the “language” of our spouse in order to communicate our love to them in a way they’ll understand. According to Chapman, problems in marriage arise when spouses speak the wrong Languages to each other and no one ends up feeling (or “hearing”) love.

This book annoys me.

Firstly, it’s badly written. The short, choppy sentences are patronising and irritating to read.

Secondly, I find it hard to believe that Gary Chapman is actually able to solve all marriage problems for a couple in one conversation (often with strangers on planes or in carparks, it seems). If it was really that easy for him, he’d have no work.

Thirdly, it seems simplistic to say that all (or even most) marital conflict boils down to spouses not speaking the right Love Language to their mates. I can see how it could help, but the Love Languages philosophy seems to deal with superficial symptoms with a fake-it-til-you-make-it plan, rather than delve deeper to search for an underlying cause. It assumes that your spouse isn’t speaking your Language because he or she doesn’t know it, when sometimes, surely, it’s because he or she doesn’t care, and sometimes, surely, he or she doesn’t care even when you have been speaking their Language eloquently.

Perhaps I don’t love this book because I don’t feel a connection with one particular Love Language; I’m pretty sure I’m happy being “spoken to” in any of them. As much as I’d love to be able to give my husband a quick, “Just-clean-the-bathroom-and-I’ll-think-you’re-tops” solution, for me the Love Languages theory doesn’t completely capture how I think I “hear” love. Along with the gifts and cuddles and quality time, I want to feel fought for and respected and prioritised, and I’m not convinced that the last three always translate into the first. For me, at least.

Having said all of that, this book has made it to my list of Helpful Marriage Floaties for the simple reason that my hilarious, clever and handsome husband felt very much like he fit into the Words of Affirmation box (which makes him very much like every other man in the universe, we’ve since been told) and I appreciate the fact that I now have a tangible idea of things I can do to communicate my love to him (did I mention he’s clever and handsome and funny?).

Unfortunately I’m not very good at the whole affirming-words thing; it doesn’t often come naturally and so makes me feel self-conscious and awkward when I'm forcing myself to do it. A few weeks ago, just after we’d both finished reading this book, I decided to write my husband a note telling him how wonderful he is, but to save time I skipped a draft and just wrote straight on to the card. Reading back over what I’d written, I realised I’d overused the word “really” (as in three sentences in a row containing lines like, “You’re really great” and “You’re really nice” and ”I really like you”*), so, thinking this would seem overdone and therefore lessen the impact of what I was trying to say, I crossed them all out. The final result was a card that looked like a passive-aggressive rant (“You’re really great”, ”I really like you”) rather than a heartfelt declaration of my love (I did provide an explanation on the envelope in an effort to make my intention clear). As Gary Chapman would like me to say, “In time I’m hoping to become fluent in my husband’s Love Language.”

If you can look beyond the writing and listen to what Chapman says over the loud beeping of your Tall Poppy Radar, and if you think of this theory as a starting point rather than a solution to all of your marriage woes and realise that not all divorces are a result of a lack of Love Language knowledge/practice, this is a helpful book. And if you can’t, maybe just do the quiz at the end and save yourself a few hours.

*I didn’t actually say any of these things. In these words, at least.

You and me plus baby makes three

photo by Douglas Sylvester

For all of the pre-kid thinking I did, not one moment was given to considering the impact a baby would have on our marriage. No one had let on (much less told us) that it was tough and my husband’s brother had once mentioned that having kids made him and his wife closer, so we dived into parenthood with optimism and confidence. We lost each other underwater, though, and it was quite a shock to find, after surfacing and gasping for breath months after our son’s arrival, that the distance between the two of us was scarily large, and each of us was too weary to try to swim to the other. 

Marriage this year has been exhausting, and more than once I’ve felt like I haven’t had the energy required to be able to go on. There have been times when my husband has felt more like a flatmate I didn't care for rather than a spouse, and I always feel deceitful appearing married to everyone else when there’s no unity whatsoever between us behind closed doors. In those moments, divorce felt like it’d be little more than obtaining the piece of paper that acknowledged what was already the day-to-day reality of our relationship.

Before our son, we had no inkling of just how effectively sleep - specifically, unbroken sleep - keeps us sane and sweet. We’ve endured long, long months of sleep deprivation this year, which made everything, especially relating to one another, extremely difficult. We were rarely kind to each other at 3am, often snarling instead of whispering, each treating the other like it was their fault the baby had woken hourly since we’d collapsed in bed at 9pm. Our exhaustion amplified the external, non-baby-related stresses we faced (moving church, miscarrying, beach mission), making them seem like massive waves crashing over and, at times, threatening to drown us. After each of them we’d struggle to the surface only to find ourselves even further apart.

We weren’t prepared – though I’m not sure you can be – for all of the changes a baby inevitably brings. For me, it wasn’t just the practical I-was-studying/working-but-now-I’m-not changes, but the massive identity shift that comes (free!) with motherhood: The overwhelming love, the weight of the responsibility, the new anxieties, the relentlessness, the neededness, the constant feelings of guessing what your baby needs and the worry that you’re often getting it wrong. I can barely understand how all of these (and more) have affected who I am and what I need, let alone explain it to my husband.

It also didn’t help that we’d made a fairly individualistic marriage work pretty well before our son arrived. Our son has strengthened our bond with a needle and thick thread, stitching us much closer together. His sewing has been thorough and incredibly painful, and it’s only now, after months of talking and praying and reading, that we’re beginning to appreciate his handiwork.

Over the next few posts, I plan to reflect on a few of the things – two books and one person – I’ve found most helpful for our marriage so far in this struggle to stay afloat together between here and here. 

I am now officially a Christian woman...

The Holiday Part 2: Highlights in Words (with lots of pictures)

On Friday we drove from Orient Point to Wonboyn Lake, which is a teeny little community not too far from Eden, and is where my sister-in-law/kindred spirit and her husband (my husband’s brother) live. On the way we stopped in Bega and found out that our brief visit just so happened to coincide with the grand opening of the new shopping centre. It was very exciting! Especially popping into the new Woolworths for snacks and supplies - look at this:

How cool is that?! And each shelf was stocked to the brim, it looked great! I had to stop myself from taking photos of every aisle.

So that was a good start to the week.

Wonboyn Lake is a gorgeous spot, and my son saw more animals in his first hour there than he had in his entire life up to that point. He was on his best behaviour for the dog and cat in particular, politely and cheerily greeting them each time he saw them (including when he looked away and then looked back again). During our days there he patted a chicken and learned the difference between wallabies and kangaroos and had a rainbow lorikeet land on his head. We’d met the lorikeet the previous day during a standoff between the boys and a parrot...

The Standoff Part 1 (about 10 minutes have already elapsed)

The Standoff Part 2 (what feels like an hour has now elapsed)

The Standoff Part 3 (seriously, this was going on forever)

Fortunately it ended. And it ended well. The rainbow lorikeet startled us all by flying in from the other direction and rewarding my husband's patience by landing on his outstretched arm. Then it was my turn...

Besides waiting on the local birds, I don't really know how we passed the rest of the time; my memories are already a blur of wildlife and freshly baked bread and quality chats with my sister-in-law and chocolate fudge sauce and the general sense of contentment and wellness that comes from spending time with loved ones and sharing hearty meals. Oh! Something else: My husband caught his first decent-sized fish.

All in all, it was exactly what a break should look like. But all breaks must end, and, despite having loved both parts of our holiday, I was very much looking forward to returning home and enjoying the things I usually take for granted here, such as putting clothes in my wardrobe (or being able to put my clothes in the wardrobe if I want to), peeing with the door open and sleeping in my bed. I’d booked a plane ticket home for my husband and son, because the idea of 6 hours of toddler-free driving/uninterrupted singing-with-gusto time made me giddy with excitement and seemed like the perfect end to a perfect holiday.

I had a blast. (The drive from Canberra to Sydney was mind-numbingly boring, but I forced myself to enjoy it.) The highlight was cruising down the Monaro Highway snacking on Sweet and Salty Popcorn and singing along to Def Leppard: Make love [bom bom]/Like a man [bom bom]/I’m a man/That’s what I am, UH!  

Ah, how I love that album.

And that was our holiday!

The Holiday Part 2: Highlights in Pictures

The Holiday Part 1: Highlights in Words (with some pictures)

We spent the first four nights of our holiday with good friends at a lovely holiday house in Orient Point, which is near Culburra Beach, which is near Nowra. On the first day I learned that:

I fell off halfway down. It was invigorating and made me want to move on to more reckless activities, such as sliding down a hill on a large block of ice (many thanks to Kev for this suggestion), or.... 

Or...

Nope, I'm too tired to think of something funny. Sorry.

On Tuesday we had races on little bike doovalackies (picture below). Amy won. I was pretty sure I’d mastered the things and was going to win, but I totally lost. By, like, 10 seconds! I was crushed. But happy for Amy, of course. :o(

Wednesday was date night!! We had a choice between the Chinese restaurant in the street or the Chinese restaurant at the local bowling club. After much deliberation we chose the bowlo, and were embarrassingly excited to discover that they also made steaks and hamburgers and it was trivia night! I got slightly tipsy by drinking more in one sitting than I had since my son was conceived in 2009 (TWO WHOLE ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES, it was quite the bender), while trying to be of help to my trivia-champ husband. I did get a wildly-guessed ‘Bob Dylan’ right for one of the CD round questions and also scored us 10/10 for the famous faces in round 6, so that's at least 11 points I contributed. We didn’t win, though I sincerely believe we could have come very close if we hadn’t missed the first two rounds.

I always leave trivia nights feeling like I should know far more about geography and history than I do. I’m pretty sure I would have studied much harder in high school if Mr Smith or Mrs Cameron had explained to us all that learning things like which countries border Italy or what year the Bubonic Plague hit London would quite likely win me a $10 bar voucher during a future trivia night at Culburra Bowling Club. I might send them an email.

I can’t remember Thursday. We probably hung out at the lake or the beach and ate stuff and chilled out and had a jolly time, seeing as that’s what we did most of the other days. It was gold.

And then on Friday morning we set off for The Holiday Part 2...

The Holiday Part 1: Highlights in Pictures