Who can help me find these things?

Attention Jacqui's Room reader(s):

I need your help finding something: July.

Like the whole month. I lost mine, apparently, because it's almost over and I can't remember what I did with it.

I mean, from the looks of this blog, you'd think I hadn't posted in two week, when in fact, I have been posting brilliant and hilarious items TWICE DAILY.*

I looked in my bag of marbles and it turns out most of them are lost too.

It's a household wide problem. Yesterday, I listened to Tink and Destructo have an extended argument entitled "Uno: are we or are we not playing with a full deck?"

In other news, I heard an all too familiar thumping and scratching sound in my attic this weekend.** Is it possible a new generation of flightless pigeons is out to get me?! Did they not read this blog last spring? Or do I now, in addition to everything else, literally have bats in my belfry? I will keep you updated.

* In my head.
** No joke. All three of these things actually happened this week. This is my life.
*** Photo from 826michigan's Liberty Street Robot Supply and Repair Store website. You can buy loose screws there, if you don't have enough already.

Why You Should Not Read To Your Children

We hear all the time about the benefits of reading to your children. The book-loving, library-using establishment wants you to think it's all fun and games. It's NOT. I know from ACTUAL EXPERIENCE. Here are just a few of the possible, disastrous consequences reading to your children, or, indeed, letting them read to themselves, can have on your health and the health of your children.

1. Children may decide it is hilarious, every time they hear the sound of fingers snapping, to strip down to their underwear, don their shirts as capes, and run around wherever you are screaming, "Tra la la!"

2. Children may ponder ingesting worms, fried or otherwise.

3. Head wounds may result from repeatedly opening the doors to and trying to fit inside of a cabinet that resembles a wardrobe.

4. You will be spied upon. And your actions will be recorded in a notebook. Depending on whether the perpetrator is Harriet or Nancy, such records may contain an overabundance of exclamation points.

5. Sever brain atrophy is a definite possibility.

6. Certain books may carry multiple deleterious consequences.

7. Your child may demand, in public, that you outline the geneology of the line of gods and half-gods descended from Cronos. Without Wikipedia.

8. Your child may threaten to punch you in the head.*

9. Child may demand a pet prairie dog.

10. Your child may learn that there are people who are different from her, that sometimes women fall in love with other women, and that the world is not the black and white moral checkerboard she has been led to believe. Also, what a scrotum is.

There is only one solution: ban them all. Ban them all, I say, and let kids engage in safe things like skateboarding and their 1,680 minutes (average) TV watching a week.

Bonus points if you know what books caused all of the above in my children...

* Sorry. So very, very sorry.

Did Amelia Earhart cry?

It was on this day, seventy-eight years ago, that Amelia Earhart flew solo across the Atlantic Ocean. She was only the second person, and the first woman, to do so.

Here is what I wonder:

Did Amelia Earhart, when the idea first struck her, think, "Oh, but that would be so much work!" and "I could never..." and "But nobody has..."?

When she sat there in Newfoundland, everything packed, about to take off, did she look out at the darkening sky and think, "What am I doing?!" Did her throat close in panic? Did she sweat?

Did she wish for a moment that she were at home with a cup of tea and a fantasy, instead of belted into a steel trap with a plan to defy logic and gravity and social convention?

Then, when gasoline leaked into her cockpit, when her plane suddenly dropped 10,000 feet, when fire shot out her exhaust pipe and the altimeter and the steering and EVERYTHING broke, did Amelia Earhart cry? Did she think, "I can't do this!" and want to curl up or collapse or call for Superman?

And if she did, if it turns out she wasn't as confident or as fearless or as much like "Amelia Earhart" as we think she was, if Amelia Earhart cried,

Then what does that say to the rest of us?

I had big plans for that millisecond

From SPACE.com:

Chile Earthquake May Have Shortened Days on Earth

Apparently, the recent earthquake in Chile actually moved the Earth's mass vertically, changing our rotation and shortening the length of a day by 1.26 milliseconds.

Unfortunately, scientists report the quake had no measurable effects on the length of my daily to do list.

Jacqui's Room Topics You Missed Because You Don't Live in My Head

I had so many things to tell you while I was in Argentina. Turns out I CAN go ten days with no internet, no cell phone, no email, and no day care. What I CANNOT do is stop thinking of things about which to write. But, one of my new year's resolutions is to live in the present, so I'm not going to try to recapture the inspiration. Here's what you missed:

1. If You're Gonna Have Family Drama, There Might As Well Be Actual Wild Monkeys Around

2. The Power of Words: A lengthy discussion of how we trick ourselves into thinking the word we use for a thing is somehow infused with the essence of that thing so that someone who does not speak our language at all should somehow understand anyway if we just say the word loudly and expressively enough. Punctuated by examples from Tinkerbell and others and involving a joke about monkey bars.

3. Dear Guaraní People, So Sorry Your New Year's Day Purifying Dip in the Iguazú Falls** Was Ruined By the Shrieks of My Son And If You Find the Piece of My Husband's Chin That He Bit Off, That's Okay, You Can Keep It.

4. Dulce de Leche, Nectar of the Gods. Includes references to Proust and the parallels between his experience with the madeleines and my tasting this caramel-like goodness for the first time since childhood. Also: elaborate fantasy involving dulce de leche crepes.

5. Why You Can Never Check Anything Off Your Parental To Do List/The Un-Power of Words. In which I have to explain the concept of death to Destructo for the fourth time in two months because he has heard "going to find Grandpa's dada's grave" as "going to find Grandpa's dada and bring him home with us." And other deep thoughts on family history, childhood, the random migration of people and families, and Brooklyn.

And, my favorite,

6. What Will Happen If Immigration Thinks You Are Accidentally Smuggling Diseased Horse Poop Into the U.S.

** At least, that's what I was told was going on; for all I know they were tourists from Duluth.

The coldest, driest, calmest place on Earth

Apparently, according to YahooNews, researchers seeking the best possible place to locate a space observatory have pinpointed the coldest, driest, calmest place on Earth. Ridge A, 13, 297 feet up on the Antarctic Plateau, averages temperatures of minus 94˚F. But it's dry cold, and it boasts "very little atmospheric turbulence." As a bonus, no human has ever set foot there.

In related news, scientists have also pinpointed the warmest, moistest, least calm place on Earth and it is my son at bedtime.

Needless to say, I am dreaming of a weekend trip to Ridge A.

I'm back...

...and while not necessarily better than ever, I am definitely better than before a week at the beach.

Highlights have to include hours of swimming in the ocean and daily ice cream. I did catch Tinkerbell demanding money back from the hotel manager because our room was haunted and, failing a refund, offering her services as child detective to solve the mystery. Which I love, of course.

But the best part may have finding Edgartown Books, my new favorite bookstore. Why are they my favorite? Well, look what Captain Destructo found while trolling the picture book shelves!

Okay, really I took this picture later, after I'd shrieked with glee and gone to the register to introduce myself and offer to sign them. The folks there were incredibly nice, even let Tink put the "autographed copy" stickers on, and congratulated me on not being an author who annoys booksellers. Which felt good, of course.


And now it turns out things were Going On while I was gone. Wanna see what I look like? Lee Wind (with whom I fell in heart at SCBWI this month) posted a video of me talking about my Jacqui Reads her Children Books Other People Think Are Bad For Them experience with The Rabbits' Wedding. While you are there, you should read the rest of his blog which is wonderful and good for the world. Meanwhile, Banned Books Week is September 26 - October 3 this year and "Jacqui Reads Her Children Books Other People Think Are Bad For Them, Part 2!" will kick off the first of September with my favorite challenged book ever -- my own! Yes, apparently it is very dangerous to read your kids The New Girl...And Me. I'll explain on the first.

And Ann Finkelstein nominated Jacqui's Room for the Kreativ Blogger award. Ann wrote:

The entire world should enjoy life as much as Jacqui Robbins.

Which makes me happy because I think it means I made someone smile. And also because I can't be nearly as ranty and grumpy as I feel half the time. So thank you, Ann! I know I have homework to do with this honor too, but my "to blog" list is miles long, so is it weak to give a rain check???

It's good to be back.

Five things Jacqui is not going to do to celebrate Friday the 13th

1. watch any of the Jason movies.

2. crash family Shabbat services at my temple wearing a hockey mask and screaming "The Hora! The Hora!"

3. sneak upstairs into Tinkerbell's room after she's sleeping, crawl under her bed, and whisper, "Mama lies. We are here. And we are coming for you," while throwing wet, cooked noodles onto the bed.

4. chomp the rest of the Hamentashen and sit in a sugar stupor pondering which is scarier: the idea of finishing my novel or the idea of never finishing my novel.

Oh, wait. I might do that one. Do over for #4.

4. stick my hand into the crack between the seat and the back rest in the back seat of my car and try to find whatever's growing there

5. put a giant mouse suit on Destructo and let him chase the cats

Okay, I might do that one too, if I had a mouse suit. Another do over.

5. cut the remarkably realistic hand off Destructo's plastic baby doll and float it in Thor's morning tea

How are you going to celebrate?

My Status: A Morning in the Life

Jacqui is offline.
Jacqui is trying to sleep.
Jacqui's son posted a note: "MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA!"
Jacqui is turning off the baby monitor.
Jacqui's cats have sent her a "pawful of litter to the face."
Jacqui is fine I'm up okay?!
Jacqui blocked the application "Morning Breath."
Jacqui is trying to pour milk into a sippy cup without opening her eyes.
Jacqui is reading Richard Scarry's THINGS THAT MOVE. Again.
Jacqui is no longer part of the group "People Who Shower Daily."
Jacqui is a fan of caffeine.
Jacqui wonders if kids can OD on frozen waffles.
Jacqui is even if they're organic?
Jacqui is no longer a fan of winter.
Jacqui refuses to accept responsibility for the fact that it's freezing and you have to wear a coat.
Jacqui's daughter posted the note: "25 Random Things I Have to Touch When I Am Supposed To Be Brushing My Teeth."
Jacqui should have left ten minutes ago.
Jacqui's children are no longer members of the group "People To Whom Jacqui Is Speaking Nicely."
Jacqui is pulling her son out of the driver's seat.
Jacqui's daughter is not attending the event "First Five Minutes of School."
Jacqui is snabblefrug.
Jacqui is a fan of day care.
Jacqui is wracked with guilt over that snabblefrug.
Jacqui is practicing deep breathing.
Jacqui should be writing.
Jacqui is the Queen of Text Twist.
Jacqui just has to do this one more thing.
Jacqui is staring at the blank page.
Jacqui has nothing to say.
Jacqui is no longer a fan of her novel.
Jacqui is fine just write something already you loser.
Jacqui wrote a whole page.
Jacqui wrote three more.
Jacqui is writing.

Spam me any time

In which I take what I can get.

This arrived in my inbox this week:

Dear jacqui,

I have been to your blog and loved it!

Having embraced the light of your essence that is your online garden of the self , i felt compelled to write and compliment you on a job well done. You have created a path of light that expresses the flowering within. I enjoyed learning who you are and what you do. The heart of your destiny and soul of your existence are inspiring. Know that your life and work are respected and celebrated. By sharing your story , gifts and abilities you enrich and enlighten those blessed to view your pages. You are an authentic and original person of character whose refreshing presence motivates and enchants. Thank you for being you. I wish you a lifes journey where peace and harmony reign supreme.

Now that's the kind of letter people should be sending me. Sure, I know he's probably never seen my blog and really wants me to wire money to his account in Nigeria. But, the heart of my destiny and the soul of my existence are inspiring? Sweet.

I had forgotten, until I got this letter, about waving to honkers. In high school, whenever someone honked at me, I'd pretend it was not because I had cut him off or because my left headlight was out, but because I was so irresistibly fabulous. I'd turn and flash a movie star smile, or wave and blow a kiss, mouthing "thank you." Puts you in a lot better mood than the alternative.

So I'm taking the words to heart. I AM an authentic and original person of character whose refreshing presence motivates and enchants.

Oh, and thank you for honking. You look great too.

Catch a Falling Leaf

In which I do not present a video Little People-u-mentary of Fahrenheit 451 because I did the below instead. It's coming, I promise.

You may remember I have a little bit of anxiety about the approaching Michigan winter. Today I realized why it's so bad this year: fall can't be fall until I catch a leaf.


Have you ever tried to catch a falling leaf? One that's come off the tree and danced on the wind? No?

Go try it. It's the most fun you can have in fall.

The best thing to do is to find a giant tree. An oak will do. You need a windy day and some friends. Twenty-five first graders will do. Stand under the tree and wait for leaves to make the leap off their branches. Pick your leaf as it falls and try to catch it before it hits the ground.

It is much harder than it sounds. The leaves dip and get carried off. You chase them in circles. looking up, hands out and mouth hanging open. You crash into friends and fall into the mud. Your hair blows into your mouth. And the feeling of satisfaction when you get one is delicious.

I went for a run today and the oak leaves were flying. I saw the one I wanted, reached out, and caught it without breaking stride. A teenage girl was running by in the other direction.

"Sweet grab," she said, and I beamed. When I turned back, she was trying to catch one as she ran.

When you find your leaf, bring it inside and put it somewhere safe, where you can glimpse it while you go about your business. It will bring you luck, someone told me, and a reminder that the seasons keep changing and all the whining in the world can't stop them. And that's okay.

Winter is coming and we'll be locked inside soon enough. Today, go catch a falling leaf.