About a month ago, I was contacted by Randy at The Benefactory and asked if I would review her company’s books. We’re a family of avid readers (OK, so I don’t read as much as I used to, but I have a 21 month old excuse.), so I jumped on the chance to try out some new books for Cordy.

Randy sent us three books: Chessie, The Travelin’ Man, Ruffle, Coo, and Hoo Doo, and Norman to the Rescue. Each softcover book is the true story of a real animal. Chessie is about a manatee who likes to roam up and down the eastern seaboard, Ruffle, Coo, and Hoo Doo are two green parrots and a great horned owl who co-exist in the same tree in Bridgeport, CT, and Norman is a blind shelter dog who saves a little girl from drowning.

I think what impressed me the most was the beautiful artwork. Each page is filled with bright colors and beautiful renditions of these animals. While the stories are aimed at somewhat older children, Cordy still enjoyed looking at the pictures and talking about what she saw. (Yes, I got to hear, “Itza kiiiiii!” each time I turned a page when reading Norman to the Rescue. Someday Cordy will learn what a dog is.) Many times I barely had time to read everything on the page, but I know that as she grows older she will be more willing to listen to the story.

Best of all, I’ve read these to Cordy several times now, and I still enjoy reading them. The stories are interesting, and the authors dig into the emotions of the events. I actually learned things from them as well – I had no idea that a manatee would swim in the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean, much less go as far as New England! I also love that there is a photo in the back of each book featuring the real animal the story is based on.

The Benefactory has books on lots of other animals, also, including condors, wolves, bears, loggerhead turtles, and more shelter kitties and dogs. Each story stresses the importance of animal protection.

So, if you like animal stories, I’d suggest giving The Benefactory a try. They get two thumbs up from me and a sticky high five from Cordy. (She can’t do thumbs up yet. But high fives are high praise.)

Win one! If you’d like the chance to win one of these books, simply leave a comment in this post. I will choose the winner later in the week, and that person will get one of the three books I received. I really enjoyed all three books, so I will let you choose which one interests you the most.

Dude, that’ll be a tough choice.

We were at the local mall play area the other day, letting Cordy blow off some steam and run like a mad toddler. She doesn’t really play with other kids – she just likes to run around and around and around the play area. As long as she’s having fun, I’m OK with it.

There was another little girl I noticed in the play area. A very pretty little girl, with dark skin and dark curly hair, and maybe three or four years old. I watched her play a little while watching Cordy also. Her grandmother was sitting about 10 feet from me, half-ignoring the little girl’s requests to watch her perform each stunt she attempted.

But then I watched this little girl’s grandmother yank her off one of the climbing toys and drag her to the bench. The grandmother was hissing, “That’s it. We’re leaving. I’m never bringing you back here ever again!”

The little girl, of course, was crying at having been abruptly pulled from her play and forcefully sat on the bench. I turned my head away from the scene, until I heard the sickening sharp smack! sound.

“Stop it and get your shoes on!” Smack! The grandmother had just smacked the little girl on her bare leg again. This just made the little girl cry harder and try to push her grandmother away from her, resisting the efforts to get her shoes on. At this point I was across the play area from Aaron, but we locked eyes, and it was clear we were both focused on this domestic scene.

Finally the grandmother crammed the shoes on the little girl. The little girl continued crying, with the grandmother yelling at her, “You shut up right now! Just shut up!” She smacked the little girl on the leg one more time, then dragged her out of the play area, saying, “I don’t think I like you anymore! I’m never taking you out to play again.”

What was the little girl’s crime that deserved such a punishment, you ask? She slid down the hard foam slide backwards, which her grandmother told her not to do. She did it safely, and honestly it’s a very short slide, so she wouldn’t have been hurt anyway. But that single transgression led to the grandmother telling the little girl that she didn’t like her anymore, hitting her, and roughly dragging her away from her playtime.

Aaron and I looked at each other again after she left. We were both stunned, and didn’t know how to react in a situation like that. We talked about it afterwards, and agreed that we didn’t understand what the poor little girl did that was so bad to deserve that treatment.

Looking back, I wonder if I should have stepped in or said something? The woman was in such a fury that I was a little scared of her myself. But what could I have done? Reporting her would have been a little extreme – she was smacking the girl on the leg (and I know that a leg slap can produce a very loud sound for little effort), but she didn’t hit her in the face or with a closed hand. At what point am I a concerned member of society or an overbearing busybody interfering in the business of others?

I know that I learned my own parenting lesson that day. My own views on raising a child were reaffirmed watching that scene. The punishment should always fit the crime, and I saw nothing that little girl did to deserve the punishment she got. Plus, I am even more determined to never talk to my daughter like that woman talked to her granddaughter. Seeing the pure confusion, terror and sadness in that little girl’s face…well, it’s something that will stick with me for a long time.

I can only hope the little girl has loving parents that would never treat her that way, and hopefully parents that will discover how grandma treats their daughter and forbid her from spending time alone with that little girl ever again.

Lately, Cordy has been making leaps in language acquisition. Lots of new words, but more importantly, the beginnings of sentence structure.

Right now, most sentences have the same beginning: It’s a… However, where she should drop the “a”, she doesn’t.

Here’s some of Cordy’s recent thoughts, with translation.

Itza cuuu! – It’s a clue (Blue’s Clues)

Itza beaaa! – Look, mommy, it’s my bear.

Itza wain! – Hey, it’s raining.

Itza keee! – Here kitty, kitty, kitty.

Itza booo pooo! – Yay, Blue’s Clues is on! (yes, it’s becoming a favorite here)

Itza guuud! – Yum, this tastes great!

Itza muck! – Can I have some more milk, please?

Itza shooshoo! – There are my shoes.

Itza ma! – Hey daddy, look, it’s mommy. But don’t tell her I called her mommy, OK?

Now if I could just get her to say “Itza spic-y meat-a-ball!” in her best Italian accent. That would be cool.

In other news, I finally got around to doing something with my evenings, and took up knitting. Why? Well, because cross-stitch isn’t popular yet, that’s why. Thanks to a lot of help from one of my best friends, who I refer to as the Knitting Goddess, and some help from KnittingHelp.com, I’ve started some basic knitting projects.

So far, I’ve completed two felted bags, and just last week I finished a halter top for Cordy. I used the Katja pattern from Knitty.com. It was surprisingly easy to do, and that’s coming from a real knitting novice.

I generally knit “tight”, so things turn out smaller than they should. However, this project went the other way. I know I did the pattern right, but, well, the halter top will now fit Cordy well through kindergarten, and possibly past that. Yeah, it’s that big. A little bigger and it might even fit me.

To make this work, because darn it, I wanted to make this top wearable, I folded part of the back over on itself and made a seam. So it now fits her, and she also has a back cushion in case she’s ever stuck in an uncomfortable hard backed chair.

Picture proof:

(Anyone remember Mime Time on Animaniacs? This title made me think of it.)

I was tagged by Mommy off the Record a few days back to list 15 things I hate. At first I thought this would be a breeze, and then I realized that hate really is a strong word, and it’s tough for me to assign hate to 15 things. Still, I did it. My list:

15 Things I Hate:

1. People who think that stay at home moms do nothing all day long. (I’m not even a SAHM, but I know there’s no way they do nothing all day!)

2. Those who think they clearly have to be somewhere faster than you, and cut you off in traffic without so much as a turn signal.

3. Writing a long e-mail to someone, only to have the electricity blip and erase everything I had written.

4. Waking up in the morning 5 minutes before the alarm goes off – not enough time to go back to sleep, but you still miss those 5 minutes.

5. Changing my daughter’s diaper because it had been on for awhile, and then not 10 minutes later smelling the tell-tale scent of a poopy diaper.

6. Animal and child abusers – I’m convinced there is an extra special nasty place in hell for these people.

7. Having to go to the bathroom really, really bad, sitting down, and then realizing there is no toilet paper.

8. Men (especially mechanics, car salesmen, and computer repair guys) who treat me like a child just because I’m female. Sorry guys, I understand financing, basic mechanics, and I can work on computers.

9. Mail that looks very important, with phrases like “Regarding your account” or “Your payment is due” written on them, which turn out to be nothing more than junk mail solicitations for credit cards or loans.

10. Being invited to a gathering by a friend, where I know no one else there except the friend, and then being abandoned by said friend at the gathering.

11. Being yelled at by someone who isn’t angry with me, but rather redirecting their anger to me.

12. People who are negative all the freakin’ time. Isn’t there any sunshine in your pathetic world? Come on, be thankful for something!

13. Street corner evangelists who yell that I’m going to hell, and then tell me I need to repent. Uh, buddy? You know nothing about me. And yelling insults at me is no way to make me see your point of view.

14. Cat vomit in the middle of the night. Or anytime, really. Even worse when I don’t see it and step in it. Ugh.

15. The inevitable traffic jam that happens the one time you’re running late.

Seeing how this meme has already been around the internet a few times, I’ll simply say that if you’d like to do this one, consider yourself tagged.

I’m feeling a bit like Sally Field right now. Only without the 80’s hair and makeup.

It’s been an awesome week here at A Mommy Story. First, I was given a Perfect Post award for June 06, thanks to the nomination by J’s Mommy of Another Mommy Moment. It was my bloggy equivalent to a Pulitzer. People are reading! And they think I’m worth telling others about!

Next, Her Bad Mother bestowed upon me one of her premier PIMP awards. The letters stand for: Prima Inter Mater Pares (First Among Mother Equals). That’s Latin, folks – you know it’s a classy award when it’s in Latin.

And now? This afternoon I received this:

Dude, how much cooler can this week get?

I wanted to say thank you to those who voted for me. If you look in my high school yearbook, you can bet I was never voted most likely to be anything involving the words “crazy” or “hip”. So it feels good to know I’ve broken out of my shell a little, put together some words that have attracted others to read me (and for me to find them and read their words), and carved out my own little corner of the blogosphere. Or you could just be here for the cute Cordy pictures. That’s OK, too.

Yeah, she’s learning who you’re really here to see: me.