Booksies!

I've been feeling rather empty lately for a number of reasons, one of which is a lack of time to read! It's frustrating that all the things that bring light to our lives are often the ones that must be pushed to the side when we are too busy.
Thus, not too many books to list since my last reading post:

The Mieville I was reading was sadly set aside as one of my favorite authors' new book came out! It had been a while since her last one in this series, so I was really excited!!!
The third and final in the Shadowfell series, I found The Caller to be a little less...well, just a little less, I suppose. I don't know if she was distracted by other projects in her life, but I found it to be a shade less to her usual standards.
The lore was fantastic, as well as the characters, but I found the story wrapped up a little too neatly, and that this book was just not up to snuff.


While reading this one, I also read a non-fiction on the side - one recommended
by a friend as a 'must-read' for all parents: The Way They Learn. I picked it up right away from the library:) I found it very interesting, and very helpful! I'm often frustrated with how to get through to my daughter sometimes, as well as getting my son to focus. This book basically labels people with semi-specific learning dispositions through a series of questions. It's helpful to label yourself too, and discover better ways to communicate with everyone.
I am also listening to Game of Thrones on Audiobook while I drive to work. I absolutely love the show, and was curious if they had actually stayed true to the books. I'm only about halfway through the 28 discs (!!!) but so far the show has been very accurate - a rarity!
Worth noting too: the reader, Roy Dotrice, is just brilliant.

Now that I'm through The Way They Learn, I picked up a non-fiction
that I thought might help with my tendency to feel overwhelmed in my daily life, called The Organized Mind.
Prominent Canadian author too - win!
Will let you know if it miraculously cures me:)

Now, I always have a novel in my bag, but as my favorite fall event is beginning this Saturday, I usually lay off the fiction and depend on Calvin & Hobbes to get me through November.

Will post in the next few days on all my prep to dominate my NaNoWriMo story this year:-)

Cheers,
Kelly

The Worst Morning.

Ever had "one of those mornings?"

Here's mine:

*warning* This is graphic, and may disturb you. (I'm actually serious.)

Alarm playing. 5-ish am. Lazily hit snooze. Twice.

Murmer to hubby to wake you when he gets up. It's his birthday, can't forget. You want to get up with him and cook him bacon and eggs-something you never, ever do.

Suddenly you are at a hospital. It's not one you've ever been at. 

Walking along the corridor, you see a door on the left holds a post-it note bearing the word, BIRTHS.

You enter.

The immaculate room is exactly what you need. You're in labour, after all.
You sit and turn to your husband that has appeared by your side.
"I don't think she's coming today."
He blows his nose. Stupid cold.
The nurse is on your left handing you chopsticks. You narrow your eyes. Chopsticks?
She makes a motion with them and your confusion clears. Of course.
You insert the chopsticks, spreading open the birth canal.
In a rush of blood and fluids, her body comes barreling into the world.
You are ecstatic and hold her writhing, slimy body close to yours and your smile at your husband through your tears. The nurses take her from you to "clean her" and they ask you her name.
You look at your husband.
"We haven't even thought of it," he admits. How did that happen? You can't even recall any names even being a possibility.
You turn to the nurses, and there, sitting up between your stained thighs, sits your daughter.
Cascading amber hair falls to her bottom, barrettes adorn it throughout.
"Oh, sweet girl, you were born with barrettes," you coo.
Of course she was.
Perhaps she should be called Rapunzel, you think.

But the golden moment is over and you are suddenly in a dank room. Cold, concrete, bare but for a full-length mirror. You are in front of it, nude, a hand on your flat stomach. Where did the swell go?
A grey bed appears behind you. You scramble onto it, laying on your back, frantically pressing into your stomach.
One orange-sized lump rolls beneath your fingers.
Breathe.
Wait, what is that?
Another lump. It rolls freely. Downward. Downward.
You pull it from your loins.
A small fetus, blue and alien, torn umbilical cord hanging...

"Mom. Mom! Look what time it is!"
My son is shaking me now. It is 7:24 am. We usually leave for school at 7:40.
Shit.
"Wake up your sister! I'll take the dog out! Then get yourself some breakfast!"
The dream is still lingering, my hands are shaking as I grab my sweater and get the door into the yard. I quickly wash, yelling instructions to the kids and the three of us manage to leave for school six minutes before the bell goes. 8:19 am.
It sinks in that the hubby left without any fanfare for his birthday, and the dream won't leave me. It makes me ill. The hubby and I decided a long time ago that we were done having kids.
It also takes me a while naturally to just "wake-up." Thus, it's not until I'm done getting the kids to class and driving to work before I actually begin to comprise coherent thoughts.
Text manager: coffee?
Thank God she said yes. This is definitely a Grande Pumpkin Spiced Latte Morning.
With  a Pumpkin Scone.
(And an Oat Bar.)
And wine later.