Book Review: Crayola Holiday Colors Series by Robin Nelson

9781541510944

$27.99

9781541510920

$27.99

Concept books always see multiple circulations here at the library, but if you can add in some holiday fun and maybe even learn about another culture, even better!

To sample this series, I chose one from a holiday we celebrate in spades every year, and one from a holiday I have never been a part of, but am intrigued by.

Orange, of course, is the first color we think of for Halloween, followed closely by black and white. Jack-o-lanterns, cobwebs, black cats and bats (I do wish they hadn't supported the 'black cats are bad luck' concept, though - even telling kids to "watch out" for them! That was disappointing!) Costumes are mentioned, but nothing about the colors - a missed opportunity. Treats are brought up next, with the colors of candy corn and icing on cookies.

Holi, of course, is the perfect festival to illustrate colors! The reasons given for the holiday are somewhat vague, but the flowers and spices used for some of the dyes are shown, which is interesting. Snacks such as kachori help round out the color list.

While the Crayola emblem and name are prominent on the front cover, the company name is not mentioned in the book, and even the crayons pictured at the end - while exhibiting the familiar Crayola stripes - are shown without labels, so I have to give them credit for not making this one big ad. Both are filled with bright, colorful photographs and eye-catching variations in text style. End pages offer line drawings of some of the photographs, for children to copy and color. Not the best I have seen from Lerner nonfiction, but still a good addition to the preschool/early elementary library.

Also available:

Crayola Chinese New Year Colors

Crayola Christmas Colors

Crayola Cinco de Mayo Colors

Crayola Diwali Colors

Crayola Hanukkah Colors

Crayola Ramadan and Eid al-Fitr Colors

Review: Mangoes, Mischief, and Tales of Friendship by Chitra Soundar

9781536200676

$16.99

Being a wise and just ruler is no easy task. That’s what Prince Veera discovers when he and his best friend, Suku, are given the opportunity to preside over the court of his father, King Bheema. Some of the subjects’ complaints are easily addressed, but others are much more challenging. How should they handle the case of the greedy merchant who wishes to charge people for enjoying the smells of his sweets? And can they prove that an innocent man cannot possibly spread bad luck? Will Prince Veera and Suku be able to settle the dispute between a man and his neighbor to whom he sells a well — but not the water in it? Or solve the mystery of the jewels that have turned into pickles? Illustrated throughout by Uma Krishnaswamy, these eight original tales by Chitra Soundar task Veera and Suku with outwitting the kingdom’s greediest, wiliest subjects. Are the two clever boys up to the challenge?

I grew up devouring folk tales and fairy tales from all over. Reading these was like running into old friends you hadn't even thought about in a while, but who you instantly recognized. Soundar does an excellent job of making the stories accessible to the modern day reader, while still retaining the flavor of India long ago.

The volume is a collection of stories that appear to have been published separately at one time, and in places it reads that way. Halfway through the book, one story begins again with an introduction to the characters we have already become well-acquainted with. Some of the endings and beginnings could be reworked slightly to help with the flow, but for the most part it works well. Krishnaswamy's illustrations help convey both culture and expression. Patterned pages divide some stories, but not others**. 

**Disclaimer: I received an Advanced Reader Copy, and the finished work may have resolved these details.

Overall, it is a charming collection, and we will be ordering a copy for the library when it becomes available next month.

Kidney Donation Wrap-Up

***WARNING: Pictures of body parts ahead***

Well, I lived! And more importantly, my kidney is now living elsewhere, and reportedly working its little heart out! (Wait...was that a mixed metaphor??)

I'm guessing if anyone is considering donating as well, they would like to have a slightly more detailed description of the actual process, so I'll try to recap what I remember along the way. Beginning with...

Wednesday

After a HUGE meal at a local Brazilian restaurant (need to build up that iron!) and a very short night in a very cheap hotel, we arrived at UNM around 4:30 AM as directed. Yep, that's pretty darn early, but we needed to make sure my kidney got on the right flight on time! Into the paper gown (some hilarity involved - why was there only one sleeve?), much lying around and chatting with so many medical personnel I lost count. I am afraid I completely forgot everyone's names, but I do know all anesthesiologists at UNM are at least 6 feet tall. And everyone was approximately 16. Also all super nice! They put a patch behind my ear, as promised, to help with impending nausea. I do NOT do well with anesthesia, which we knew, and which will come up again later. Someone from the surgery team used what appears to be a Robert Munsch Super Indelible Never Come Off Until You're Dead and Maybe Even Later marker to make sure they knew which side the kidney was supposed to come from.

Seriously, this is after several showers and some rubbing alcohol. Mr. Happy is here to stay.

  

About 6:00, someone pushed some fluid into my IV, saying "I'm going to give you a little something now to make you feel silly." 

Then it was 1PM and I was in recovery.

I WAS ROBBED! I mean, no, I certainly didn't want to be awake during the surgery, but what happened to the "Count backwards from ten" bit?? I've watched TV, I know that's supposed to happen! I was all set to be a smart-a** and do it in Russian, too. I practiced. Hmph.

Well, as predicted, I immediately felt nauseous and started to throw up. FYI, vomiting after abdominal surgery is Not Much Fun. Fortunately, they were ready with more meds in the IV, and kept them up over the next 24 hours to keep things under control.

Mike had a LONG wait, first during the surgery and then the entire time I was in recovery. At that point he was only allowed in for twenty minutes out of every two hours! At least he got the latest Stephanie Plum read, and caught up with a mutual friend whose baby was in the hospital (doing well, I hear). They didn't get me to a room until about 3PM, around which time he headed home (4-5 hours) just in time to get kids to bed and then up for school the next day.

That night I was on IV fluids, with liquid Tylenol (I can't swallow pills) every so often to keep ahead of the pain. I really didn't have much pain - unless I tried to sneeze, cough, clear my throat, or yawn. Clearing my throat happened every time I tried to talk, my throat seemed to produce an unnecessary amount of phlegm in reaction to the intubation. It was also a bit sore in the back for a couple days, but only noticeable when I ate. I am used to sleeping on my side, which wasn't happening now, but even those fun pressure things they put on your legs to stave off blood clots couldn't keep me awake for long. 

Thursday

I had kept Jello down in recovery, so I got a real breakfast - bacon and eggs, oatmeal, juice, coffee. Not much appetite and still pretty groggy, but I ate the first two. LOTS of ice water over the next couple days. I read one book (Melanie Cellier's latest, of course!), but mostly slept - in between "Hi I need to take your blood pressure" and "Oh it's time for your meds". UNM is a teaching hospital, so there were several residents included on the rounds. I know I have said this a dozen times, but EVERYONE THERE IS SO NICE! Seriously, absolutely no complaints about any of my care. Except the broccoli - why did they keep serving broccoli to someone who is already passing enough gas to power a truck?? (TMI? Sorry - one way they make room to maneuver in your belly is by puffing it full of gas. It all needs to leave at some point.)

I was way more lethargic than I expected to be, based on my 3 C-sections, but I had of course received way more anesthesia this time around. No more nausea (God bless Zofran), but thick-headed and sleepy. I had to cut off one nurse who was asking about the donation, because I was too groggy to think - he was very nice about it, but I still felt bad, and didn't get a chance to chat with him later. I did learn that one of my night nurses, Cody, used to be a children's librarian, although I never got around to asking where. I could totally see him leading Toddler STEAM.

Mila came in to tell me my kidney arrived safely, was transplanted successfully, and already working! The recipient has been waiting SEVEN YEARS for a kidney her body wouldn't reject. Mila even sent me a picture of my kidney, taken before it left:

First thought: That's a lot of fat that went with it. Bonus! But why isn't my tummy any flatter? Bummer.

Second thought: Wait. Is this now someone else's medical information? I mean, if it was still MY kidney at this point, I can post a picture of it, but now it's someone else's kidney. Do I need their permission? But I don't know who they are...I'm going to say it was still my kidney, as it was geographically closer to me.

I was removed from most wires and tubes by the evening, so I could get up and move around a bit. Just like with other surgeries, walking is encouraged. Still very very lethargic, with not much appetite, but dozing was getting harder as it was getting harder to find a comfortable position.

Friday

Some concern about my bladder emptying properly, but things were moving along, so they decided I could go home. Hooray! Mike left home in the wee hours and arrived before lunch. I got a shower - hooray again! - and put my own clothes on. Staff made sure my prescriptions for Tylenol and stool softener were filled before we left, so we didn't have to mess with that here. They also gave me Zofran again just before we left, in case of motion sickness. Discharge happened much faster than I expected, and I didn't realize until we were on the road that I hadn't seen Ana Maria and Mila again as planned. I wasn't about to turn around again once I had made my escape! As nice as everyone was, I wanted to be HOME! We did talk to them on the phone en route.

Another LONG drive for poor Mike, with me trying to sleep in the passenger seat - and I thought the hospital bed was uncomfortable! Apologies to anyone I scared at the Carrizozo gas station as I stumbled through to the bathroom. When we got home I went straight to bed, but stayed awake to see the kids and my mother, once she brought them home from her house. I took the nausea patch off, took some Tylenol, and went to sleep.

Saturday and Sunday

I didn't need the Tylenol any more - no pain, just soreness - and never needed the stool softener. But. I maybe should have left the patch on.

So. Sick. At this point, I should point out that what I was feeling wasn't necessarily what anyone else would feel, but part of my usual extreme reaction to the anesthesia. I was miserable. I never threw up, but I felt very close to it much of the time, and had no appetite - which was bad, because I needed to stay hydrated! The kids were VERY good the whole time, Christopher being especially helpful, but they were sad I wasn't interacting with them much - Sheridan kept saying sadly, "You HAVE to be better for Christmas!"

A few people stopped by with meals, which is just awesome, but I couldn't make it downstairs to say hello. Sunday night some friends had a party I had really been looking forward to, but I sent Mike and the kids on instead. Even in a silent house, I couldn't sleep. I had already slept so much my body didn't need that any more! Gah! At least I could lie on my sides again, and it was my own bed, and nobody was coming at me with a blood pressure cuff. Our sixty pound puppy practically tiptoed onto the bed at one point, snuffling at me sadly and then gently stretching out next to me.

Monday (Christmas Eve)

As soon as we were both awake, I told Mike we needed to call UNM about the nausea. I did NOT want to spend Christmas (or any day) at the local hospital on an IV. The on call urologist got back to us pretty quickly, and called in a prescription for Zofran.

Irony - as Mike drove down to get it, I felt the fog lift! Not so groggy, not so nauseous, and I was actually out of bed and downstairs when he got home. Hallelujah! Everything had finally passed out of my system - and I knew there were a lot of people praying, as well. I never ended up taking the Zofran, but I am very thankful they were so quick to provide it.

I had mostly prepped for Christmas before I left, so I visited with kids and answered a few messages, dozed on the sofa a couple times, and ATE and DRANK. My stomach was still a bit sensitive, and seemed to have shrunk a bit, but yay for hydration. 

My older daughter Mari arrived that evening, after driving all day long. I haven't seen her since September, so we had a lot of catching up to do. Funny how much animated talking affects your stomach muscles and breathing! By the time we had helped Santa do his thing (Mike and Mari carried, I shoved and directed), I was absolutely beat. Shane was allowed to sleep in our bed for the first time since I got home, since Mari now had his room. He didn't wake up, but stuck tightly to my side, reaching out every now and then in his sleep to pat me and make sure I was still there.

Tuesday (Christmas)

Perfect! I was still getting my appetite and energy back, but I was able to fully participate in Christmas. The kids got WAY too much stuff, as usual, and family members came in and out. I was able to help make lunch and supper, and went to bed just a little earlier than usual. Whew! I'm obviously not jogging around the block, but I feel pretty good.

Itchy, though. I was expecting to have bandages to take care of, but happily each incision is closed with dissolving sutures covered in glue. That make showering much easier! I'm supposed to let the glue flake off, which it is starting to do, and that itches. A minor complaint, though. 

I have four incisions. This one at the side:

As you can see, it's about the size of my wedding ring. I have to look to find it, it's not even sore. Crazy!

The other two small ones are where tubes/instruments were inserted, to do the whole thing laparoscopically, then a slit by my belly button - about 2 1/2 inches - where Dr. Alba slid her hand in:

How do people do mirror selfies and not end up with them all blurry?

Not surprisingly, my belly button area is the most tender, but manageable. Probably a good thing I gave Mykela all my belly rings years ago, though. There was a little bruising the second day, but that is all gone already - the shadows you see around the holes are glue.

And that's it! I'm not allowed to lift anything over ten pounds for 4-6 weeks, and I'm encouraged to stay hydrated, but there is no special diet, no more meds. I go back in mid January for follow-ups, and expect to return to work the next day.

Ana Maria asked if I would do it again, and I absolutely would! The weekend was miserable, and my family had to help out a lot more than I had planned, but what is that compared to someone being on dialysis the rest of their life - or worse? If you have any thoughts of being a living donor and have questions, please feel free to ask!! And a huge, huge thank-you to Mike, Mom, Mykela, the kids, and all the friends who have helped out!

Review: Not Just a Book by Jeanne Willis and Tony Ross

9781541535695

$17.99

A book is not just a book. It can be so many things: a hat or a building block, a flower press or a fly-swatter! But books are so much more than that. They can make you feel and can take you anywhere; they can make you laugh and can teach you anything you want to know.

There are certain author/illustrator duos that are guaranteed good for some fun, and Willis and Ross are definitely one of them. 

In fun and silly rhyme, with equally fun and silly illustrations, Willis and Ross muse about the many things one can do with a physical book: make a tent for your cat, prop up your teddy, or use it as a funnel when you are milking a cow*.  Fess up, grown-ups: how many of us have actually used a book to "hide your face if you are shy"?

*do not actually use your book as a funnel.

Then we open up the book and let it make us laugh or weep, or make us really clever! This would be a brilliant book to use in a school library to start off your year (and I may start using it in field trips here!) You can cover book care*, types of books, and the fun and learning we can get from them. Heck, bring it out after Christmas break and use it to freshen enthusiasm (and maybe review some rules) when you start library times back up again!

*I repeat: do NOT use your book as a funnel.

Review: Farm Machines at Work series by Jennifer Boothroyd

9781541526006

$26.65

9781541526013

$26.65

I'll bet you thought of at least three kids to hand these off to right away, didn't you?

There is nothing quite as fascinating to little kids (and, let's be honest, many really big ones) as a giant rumbling machine. In these pages we are treated to close-ups of not just the machines as a whole, but also the engines, control panels (some with computer screens!), hitches, and other parts. You can almost hear them working!

We learn how tractors can do anything from cultivating to plowing snow, depending on the season and their attachments. Pretty versatile machines! We look at the old Henry Ford tractors with metal seats, then on to air conditioned self-steering models that run on renewable fuel. Heck, now I want one!

I want a harvester, too - a tiny one that can putter around my living room and scoop up clutter. If a grape harvester can be that gentle and efficient, surely there could be one that separates the books from the toys without bending a page, right?

This series is perfect for your junior readers who really want to know how things work and what everything is called. Other titles available include:

Balers Go to Work

Cultivators Go to Work

Skid Steers Go to Work

Sprayers Go to Work

On Helping

So, one thing I have been torn about through this whole process. On the one hand, this is something I am doing because I want to do it, because it is help that is needed that I can provide: not because I want everyone to think I'm a wonderful human being. Part of me would like to do the whole thing fairly quietly and just not tell many people.

On the other hand, I want other people to do it, too. Over 120,000 people are on the UNOS waiting list, and the vast majority of them are waiting for kidneys. Over 100,000 people who will die if they don't get what most of us have an extra of! Just think, if 20,000 people - a tiny smidgen of the adult population of the US - decided to become non-directed donors, and each of those people started a chain with 5 people in it, that list could be wiped out! All those people would LIVE!

As of this morning, there were actually six people hoping for my one kidney. You see, my matched recipient is in another state, and my kidney will be flown to him/her (let's just say "her", it's easier). But, what if she got sick this morning and they can't do surgery on her? Or, what if the weather here cancels flights, and my kidney is stuck in NM? So there are two back-up recipients in MN, and two here in NM. That means that, while one person is going to be extremely happy by the end of the day, four will be disappointed. That is heartbreaking to me.

A few people have asked "What caused you to make this decision right now?" The thing is, I would have signed up ages ago if I had known about it. I just didn't know about it. So if I blog about it and talk about it, maybe there will be someone else who finds out - "Wait, I can save someone's life now, not after I'm gone?" Or someone who thought about it will see the process isn't that scary, and decide to go ahead with it.

I teach my kids, you should help when you can. Helping does not have to mean becoming a living donor. It can mean donating money, it can mean delivering a meal, helping someone move, watching someone's kids, speaking up when someone is being hateful, giving someone a break when they can't seem to catch one, taking a moment to notice someone (have I mentioned how much I love this book?) Little things count. They add up. That does NOT mean we can say, "Yeah, I put my shopping cart back where it went AND somebody else's, so I'm good for the week." There isn't a quota system.

It also doesn't mean selling everything you own and giving it to the guy on the street corner and living in a cardboard box yourself. I mean, would that even really help him? If that's where you feel the nudge to help, then go talk to him. Get to know him. Take him to lunch. Figure out what would really help him. Does he need a job? A shower? Does he need you to lobby for mental health services? Donate blankets to the local shelter? Start a local shelter? 

Maybe you can't do that. You can't do everything. You don't have to, and nobody expects you to. My favorite president said it pretty simply:

It means treating other people as fellow human beings who are in this with us, not as something beneath us or "other" than us because of some artificially drawn (and temporary - study your history, people) lines, or economic status, or beliefs or customs or life choices. It means doing unto others as you would have them do unto you. It means paying attention to the basic laws of humanity.

And guess what? Donating a kidney doesn't mean I am done helping people (or animals!) I don't get to sit back and smugly say, "I gave a BODY PART, people, I've done my share." Nope. There are still ways I can help people, so I still have the responsibility to do it. I mean, I might not be delivering meals for the next week or so, but - after that!

Does any of this make sense? I hope so. I'm typing it up before I go under the knife, so I can't blame the after-effects of anesthesia. 

It's the holiday season. Hanukkah ended a couple weeks ago, Solstice is in a couple days, and Christmas is just around the corner. Not a big fan of New Year Resolutions, but let's call it a goal. Make it a priority to look for ways you can help in 2019. While we are decimating that UNOS list, just think of all the other great changes we could make along the way!

Review: Open Mic at Westminster Cemetery by Mary Amato

9781512465310

$18.99

When Lacy wakes up dead in Westminster Cemetery, final resting place of Edgar Allan Poe, she's confused. It's the job of Sam, a young soldier who died in 1865, to teach her the rules of the afterlife and to warn her about Suppression—a punishment worse than death.

Lacy desperately wants to leave the cemetery and find out how she died, but every soul is obligated to perform a job. Given the task of providing entertainment, Lacy proposes an open mic, which becomes a chance for the cemetery's residents to express themselves. But Lacy is in for another shock when surprising and long-buried truths begin to emerge.

The book description fails to mention one important main character - Mrs. Steele, the strict enforcer of the cemetery rules, and not exactly Lacy's biggest fan. Oh, she also happens to be Sam's mother. There are also a myriad of intriguing secondary characters, from sweet Sarah to requisite mean girl Victoria. Who also happens to be Edgar Allen Poe's wife.

And, of course, there is Poe. You know those discussion questions that go something like, "which famous dead would you most like to have dinner with"? Imagine finding out that you could actually spend eternity getting to know that person? Except, of course, that Poe has been suppressed. And the rules say he can't come above ground and speak. And there isn't anything we can do about the rules...right?

There is much more to this delightful read than the description suggests. To start with, it is written mostly in the form of a play, with a few side notes from the author. Don't let the format put you off, it is quite readable even if you aren't familiar with script reading. Each of the characters has a personality, and often a past, that comes out through the course of a few nights. Subthemes of personal responsibility, group responsibility, forgiveness, change, constructive rebellion, family - and, of course, poetry - are threaded throughout. Despite the themes and settings (and Poe), it is never really dark. Hand it off to someone who is looking for something a little different!