Reincarnation: a concept that a good portion of the world believes in, and one usually set aside by Christian America. Can it explain the pervasive deja vu that seems to permeate some of our lives? Do you think that when you meet someone for the “first time” and it feels instantly familiar it could be because you have intimately known that person’s spirit beforehand?

While I do not believe in reincarnation, I do believe in a pre-mortal existence. I believe that many of us did know each other before we arrived on this Earth, and that sometimes when you meet these people it can be very obvious that you have forged a connection before this life. Because of this belief, it is easy for me to understand how people can believe in reincarnation- something has to explain that comfort, that knowing that cannot be explained any other way.

Author M.J. Rose creates an exquisite tale explaining this concept and the consequences surrounding pre life flashbacks in her novel The Reincarnationist. This was one of the best thrillers I have read this year. Truly unpredictable, the book weaves in and around several time periods and characters, leaving the reader to wonder how it can all connect in the end. The book was seductive, fast paced, detail oriented & intelligently written, and absolute recipe for success.

Josh Ryder is a photo journalist who begins to have flashbacks to his past lives after becoming the victim of a suicide bomber. As he searches through these memories he begins to get closer and closer to the secrets in his past, and others cross his path that complete the holes in his story, and suddenly he goes from a man with a curiosity to a man with a desperate mission, dependant totally on knowledge he had to remember from his past.

I received the book in the mail yesterday around two and had it devoured by bedtime- I literally couldn’t put it down. It was intense, and the imagery was so clear that reading it I felt as though I was actually in ancient Rome. I just love reading a book that is so detail conscious I feel as though I can smell and hear what is happening! Passionate in every way, this book is a total winner that I know I will read again and again. I know I’ll also seek out more of this author’s work.

He has been having a rough week at school, getting his name on the board for various less than stellar moments. The other night we had him pray to do better in school and the next day he came home after having a very good day and he said that Heavely Father helped him.

This morning as we were running out the door, he suddenly stopped, folded his arms and prayed for help being good at school. Of course, he had another day of good marks!

We are very proud of Jonas today.

There are some nights when I’m so fried that I’m comatose before Chris has a chance to try to persuade me into any kind of adult recreation. I have usually flopped face first into his bulk, wrapped my arm around his chest and thrown a leg around his waist (husbands make great body pillows), which seems like it would be very suggestive, until he realizes that absolutely nothing is going to come from this except maybe a small spot of drool on his shoulder and an inability to move until the human blanket has chosen a new position. Those are my favorite nights.

Last night was not one of those nights. I flopped, I snuggled, and then I continued to lay there perfectly still, silent and painfully alert.

Now, during the day, I can mange not worrying and obsessing. I am simply too busy. My To Do list is about three notebook pages long on a daily basis with at least a page long addendum of Stuff to Accomplish Tomorrow. Throw in a child interruption every three to five minutes as I work through that list, and I don’t have the luxury of neurosis because I can only focus on the mad doggy paddling that is keeping my head above water.

At night, in the stillness, my brain attacks. It always starts with one small thing, like an outgrown shoe or a book order I meant to send in that day, but it quickly snowballs into the state of my checkbook, exhausting personal relationships and work obligations. I fixate on why my hips ache and the unknown results of medical tests. I berate myself for mothering at less than 100%. I wonder what people are thinking and why, wishing with all my might for insight- just one day as a fly on the wall of their brains to gain more understanding into the world I live in. Ideas and shouldas jump in and out of my mind, mixed in with the guilt, grief and self loathing of the day until I am so completely overwhelmed that the only escape I have is sleep, and still, in the quiet, I lie awake. It is ridiculous to spend a night worrying about things that you cannot change, and yet I do. I’m sure everyone has a list of things left undone; do they cling to your nights they way they haunt to mine?

Jonas and I are reviewing BOB Books today. These books are designed to help early readers with simple word recognition through repetition and focus on sound. They use basic illustrations and progressively become more advanced as you go through the ten short books included in the set. Reminiscent of basal readers, this little set is sure to be an easy going hit and a fun tool to have around the house as you help your little one explore the joys of reading.

Jonas and Maggie love the books because they come in a small carrying case and the books themselves are small, just right for pre-reader sized hands. We’ve already had one good fright break out over them, easily solved by the awesome fact that the set has ten whole books to share, so five each for my little bad tempered book hoarders. With five books it doesn’t even feel like sharing, does it kids?

I like the set because after reading through the first book Jonas was able to identify the word “sat”. Not bad for a three minute time investment. He was also eager to go on to the next book, so even though the books are extremely simple, he was engaged and happy with what he was working with. The one thing that made me frown is that the books are not very sturdy. The binding is a simple magazine style binding, and these books will not stand up to the affections of children like Jonas and Maggie who both like to carry books around, stack them in piles, snuggle with them in bed and read them with sticky fingers- however, with how quickly Jonas’ wheels were turning and things were being grasped as we read through them, a long life span may not be necessary.

I plan on continuing to use these books to supplement what Jonas is focusing on in Kindergarten this year. I think they will be a worthy tool, and I’m pleased that we got to review them!

-Yesterday I allowed three men to photograph me in very suggestive poses and with very little clothing on. If you’ve ever had hip and spine X-rays, you will understand what I’m talking about. It felt oddly dirty. I’m sure that I have a very sexy skeleton.

-Many of you have been following my bizarre health over the past few months, and I am thrilled to say that I finally have an actual diagnosis. I have Fibromyalgia. I’m on the young side for it, but after ruling out pretty much every single horrible disease known to man, this is what is left and it makes perfect sense. How is my life going to change knowing this? Not much. However, I do get to feel legitimate and not as if I’m some sort of slacker, panty-waist, hypochondriac. And that feels good. Fishface good.

-I snapped after a full year of not having a bathroom rug and went out and bought new bathroom decor. No one is allowed to touch the towels except company. The rug is so squooshy soft! Now I just need to figure out what to put on the walls. That part of decorating always stumps me.

-Homework every darn day for a Kindergartner is too much. There is something very jacked up here. And now I have to make a scarecrow for the classroom wall. Whose homework is this, anyway?

-When we were together for our family reunion we ordered Chinese take-out. We wee all sitting around the table comparing fortunes when Jonas, who cannot read yet, held his up and pretended to read. You know what he said? “Follow Jesus.”
I suddenly feel like I must be doing something right.

I just have to say, I love Manti, UT. Really, really truly. And this trip was so beautiful because of how gorgeous Autumn can be up in the mountains! I will embellish more in my next post- but first, a photo journey, because you really have to see Manti.

This is the view from the familycabin. The large white building is the Manti temple, where Chris and I were married.

If you plan to breastfeed a baby, or have an expecting friend, you need this book! It is a wonderfully honest and humorous guide for a new mother. Warm and witty, Mama Knows Breast, by Andi Silverman gives both practical advice and opens up the sisterhood of nursing Mamas.

It helpfully shows through both word and picture how to position your baby for feedings, explaining thoroughly and helpfully issues connected to latch and comfort. The tone of this book was always warm and wise, without having a medical feel or putting down a new mom for her inexperience.

We are in such a world of extreme perspectives on breastfeeding. It is common to hear horror stories about nursing nazis who overwhelm and demean, and equally common to hear about almost unrealistic love affairs with breastfeeding that leave a mother wondering if she’ll ever do things perfectly.

Silverman captures the perfect tone of encouragement and support, while keeping a realistic perspective. This book is the perfect blend of help and humor, and I absolutely recommend it.

I recently read Matrimony by Joshua Henkin. The book covers Mia and Julian’s relationship, from college to career, through courtship, marriage and lifestyle choices. It was a dry tale with despair and despondency taking the lead roles, as the reader experiences an unfulfilling marriage with both parties waiting for life to begin, only to discover after years of delusion that this was it. The characters are arrogant, and probably a good take on of some of our society who have failed to reach maturation. They are not the kind of people that one wants to know, and not well suited as subjects of voyeurism, as they lacked both complexity and human interest.

I had a difficult time with this book. The characters never seemed to fully develop and the book was written in a voice that was hard to engage. The material in the book was clumsily littered with academic posturing, the kind that is difficult to respond to while in the throes of collegiate activities, and impossible to respect afterward. My perpetual irritation toward the vocabulary used in the book definitely tainted the experience as well.

I must explain; I love a book with colorful language, with pretty prose that catches the reader by surprise and makes you want to experience again the word picture that has been painted. This is something that comes from careful use of description balanced with verbiage that enhances the flavor of the scene. In Matrimony, I was very distracted by the incongruous vocabulary list Henkin seemed to be working off of. The book was so littered with bombast language that it was impossible to taste the meat of the story. A light peppering would have sufficed; instead, it was as if the reader was being spoon fed directly from the spice cabinet. The effect made me want to gag, as the book went on for pages and pages with there being no story. Because of this, I completely cracked up on page 110 when this came up in the main character’s conversation:

“I’m the guy reading the Times Magazine who exults when they mistake ‘forego’ for ‘forgo.’ ”

“At least you’re not a prig about it.”

So much of the book is written in a priggish voice, that this comment gave me the biggest laugh of the entire novel. I actually have to wonder if Henkin’s purpose was to give his character this sound, if so, I must say he did an excellent job. I was thoroughly irritated.

The most positive moments in the book occurred as Mia went through her mother’s breast cancer diagnosis and followed her treatment. Those were moments of truth and tenderness, as Mia’s character developed and entered her own womanhood endowed with a sense of fragility and maternity. Her fear and despair was believable, and well timed. Her complexity as a character shone through the otherwise stagnant daily grind during these scenes. It was easy to appreciate the book for this aspect of the tale, especially as this challenge continued to taint Mia’s life and eventually resurfaced as she dealt with her own breast cancer scare.