So. I finished reading the Larsson trilogy (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played with Fire, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest) today. I feel as though I should write a book report for you guys. I won't, don't worry. But if you are so inclined, they are a fascinating commentary on violence against women and perpetrators and feminism, with a little espionage and serial murder to keep the plot moving. So interesting. Keeping in mind that my media diet consists primarily of Disney cartoons (Peter Pan and The Sword and the Stone are the new favorites around here) and Downton Abbey (I'm so ready for Season 3!), the books were somewhat outside of my normal frame of reference. But I really enjoyed thinking about something different for a little while. If you've read them, maybe you have something more coherent to say about them in the comments? I would love to hear your thoughts.
In unrelated news, Emmy got her cast off today. She just watched the little saw with interest, as though someone approaching her arm with a functioning weapon was a common occurrence. I was surprised at how well she handled it, though in general today was a day full of tantrums for little Emmy. We've reached the end of the preschool year, when school becomes more of a chore (field trips and egg hunts and inservice days, oh my) than a help. So today, when I finally had everyone actually in their classroom, and my presence wasn't required, I had quite a list to check off before noon. And of course neither Emmy nor I slept well the night before (did I mention I finished reading a book? When else could that possibly happen, except the middle of the night?) Then Emmy was up for an hour at 4 and, well, our errands went exactly as well as you think they did. I'm not even embarrassed to carry a screaming child out of a store anymore. It's just so ... tiring. Surely this is a sign that parenthood has worn me down, right?