The Secret Handshake.

I recently had one of those great reading moments where the universe seems to align perfectly for the sole purpose of enhancing your engagement with a piece of writing.

Last night, I was reading Every Day Is for the Thief by Teju Cole (the revised version recently reissued by Random House.) It dovetails quite nicely with the novel I finished last week, Americanah by Chimanda Ngozie Adiche. All references of a Nigerian expat returning to Lagos were fresh in my brain. I can see the walls of the compounds, the shady police officers, and the internet cafes, all thanks to Cole and Adiche unknowingly working in tandem. I had a feeling of contentment for having chosen to read the right book at the right time. (It's the little things that make a bibliophile's heart swell.)

Then, I get to a point in the book where the narrator starts analyzing John Updike, the subject of the biography I am currently reading by Adam Begley. So, despite having only read one Updike novel and only being halfway through Begley's book (which is very well done, by the way), I completely understood the references to Updike's style and hometown of Shillington, PA. At this point, I have hit that level of happy where I just have to keep reading because I am having such a great time. I am actually grinning as I turn the pages.

And then the literary powers that be take it to the next level. While I read in the evening, I generally have jazz on in the background. It helps mask the goings on of my neighbors (and prevents me from inadvertently hearing Game of Thrones spoilers) so that I can focus on the task at hand. The narrator in Every Day Is for the Thief is describing how he spends his nights in his bedroom attempting to listen to Giant Steps by John Coltrane over the loud hum of the generators that kick on during the inevitable power outages. And what song should I be listening to at that very moment but Giant Steps by John Coltrane! I kid you, not. My mind was blown. I had to put the novel down and pause to give the moment its due.

This book might have to go on my favorites list for this experience alone. It was like the heavens opened up and the angels sang. It is that moment that every reader dreams of when it seems as if the book were written specifically for you. The author is talking directly to you. You are the target audience. You have gained entrance to the super elite club. You know the secret handshake.

This is why I read.

Thank God for Kid Kits.

I now understand why my parents were so reluctant to allow us to have friends over.

It's exhausting. 

Raina Telgemeier

You have to entertain ("Moooom, they don't want to play with any of my toys anymore. What should we do?!?") You have to play referee. ("He's not sharing!!!"). You are not responsible for just your child anymore. ("Get down from there, please. It's not safe to climb on the balcony.")  You want them to stop eating up all your food. ("Can we have a snack, please?" "Oooo, can I have one, too?!") You just want these kids out of your space as soon as humanly possible. "Okay, kids, it's time for you to go play tag outside. Ready...set...GO!")

Or wait...maybe that's just me. 

The awesomeness of a family friendly apartment complex is the built-in friends. There is always someone for AB to play with. There is  a communal safe space in the courtyard where I can keep an eye (and ear) on her. There are moments where I am filled with joy as I hear their laughter or one of the other kids calling her name as they play hide and seek. Awesome, awesome, awesome. 

But sometimes, outside play just isn't enough. Sometimes, kids want to play with the seemingly new and exotic toys of the other kids. Sometimes, an only child craves the opportunity to play older sibling to other kids. Sometimes, said kid will desire to play hostess only to get quickly overwhelmed to the point where said kid is no longer having fun. 

Very quickly, I had to learn how to navigate this new development in her social life. And I am still struggling with it. The worst thing is that this is what I wanted! This was on my bucket list, to live in a place that is large enough for AB to have her own space and feel comfortable having friends over. Mission accomplished. But be careful what you wish for, right?

I knew that the dozens of Baby Sitter's Club books that I consumed years ago were going to come in handy one day. To ensure my sanity, I had AB and I create our own Kid Kits, one for toys/activites/games and one for snacks. The toys/activities/games are ones that she is not invested in and will not shed tears over if they are broken, used up or lost. The snacks are cheap but healthy and do not leave me feeling that I have to do my grocery shopping for a four children instead of my one kiddo. The kits are refreshed monthly and my stress level and AB's meltdowns have been greatly reduced. 

So, here's to allowing AB to binge read the Geronimo Stilton series (and spinoffs) for who knows what seeds of awesomeness are being planted in her brain that will bear fruit just when she needs them.