Brief book review: The Brain, An Illustrated History of Neuroscience

An absolutely fascinating compendium of facts and milestones related to "arguably the most complex thing in the Universe."

Publishing Oct. 21, 2015 and available on Amazon.com.

Disclosure: I received this book free for review; opinions are my own.

Brief book review: The Grandest Love

A grandfather writes on "Inspiring the Grandparent-Grandchild Connection."

(click graphic to access publisher website)

Disclosure: I received this book free for review; opinions are my own.

Grown-up kids still growing up? A book (and review) for you!

I used to tease my daughters when they were in their early 20s that you know you're a grown-up when you make your bed every day. They're all now 30 or pretty close to it, and if that's truly the test of having reached adulthood, my daughters still have lots of growing up to do. Well, all but my youngest, who does indeed make her bed each and every day. The other two? Not so much.

Fortunately for them, bed-making isn't the barometer of being a big girl, er, adult, by any means. There are, though, markers that do signify adult status — and they're far different than what they used to be, according to When Will My Grown-Up Kid Grow Up? by Jeffrey Jensen Arnett, Ph.D., and Elizabeth Fishel.

It used to be — for most baby boomers and older generations — that finishing one's education, moving away from home and getting married meant, viola!, you're an adult. That's not the case with the current generation of kids now ages 18-29. Not just in their minds, but in the minds of their parents, too. And this book, subtitled "Loving and Understanding Your Emerging Adult," is for those parents — and for parents of kids well past that age who can still use the advice and/or find comfort within.

Parents of today's 20-somethings look to different markers to signify a child has reached adulthood, according to a survey conducted by the authors of When Will My Grown-Up Kid Grow Up?. When asked "What is important in reaching adulthood for your child, in your opinion," the top three answers given by parents had nothing to do with finishing school, moving out or marrying. The top three were "Accepting responsibility for him/herself," "Becoming financially independent," and "Making independent decisions." Farther down the list were, of course, the traditional markers, plus "becoming more considerate of others" and "having a child."

So if those traits are the goal with our adult children, why do they seem to be taking so long to get there nowadays? Arnett and Fishel offer plenty of reasons, as well as advice for how parents can remain supportive but allow their children to develop the necessary skills, traits and characteristics that now define in today's culture a fully emerged adult.

Parents of children over the age of 18 may have thought they no longer needed parenting books. Consider this the last one you'll likely need... and you probably really do need it. There's not only advice and insight on the child at this stage, but excellent information on dealing with the empty nest and the effect it can, no will, have on the parents — their marriage (or non-marriage) one's own self-image and plans for the future. And it's all told with a sense of humor. Serious stuff here, but not dry and stuffy by any means.

The information and advice given in When Will My Grown-Up Kid Grow Up? — whether focusing on the child or the parent — is real, accurate, helpful, insightful. How do I know? Because I've been there, done that, could have used that. In my family, the kids are alright. And those alright kids are no longer kids, really, for they have surprisingly, successfully, emerged into adults.

It sure would have been nice, though, if I would have had this book while we all struggled through the "emerging into adulthood" process as a family, to let me know I was doing alright, too. Those years featured many long days, sleepless nights, and plenty of fights, all which made me believe my husband and I had clearly not instilled something or another that we should have in our daughters. This book shows otherwise, made me feel better. I'm pretty sure it'll make parents still in the process of watching their children emerge into adulthood feel better, too.

Unfortunately, though, the book won't teach grown-up kids how to make their beds every day. But as we all know, that's not really what matters anyway. (Just don't tell my daughters.)

When Will My Grown-Up Kid Grow Up? by Jeffrey Jensen Arnett, Ph.D., and Elizabeth Fishel (Workman, $23.95) is available wherever books are sold. Learn more on the Workman Publishing website.

Still on the fence about the book? The following book trailer will surely resonate with — and make chuckle — those who will most appreciate When Will My Grown-Up Kid Grow Up?

Disclosure: I received a free and unsolicited copy of the book for review. Anecdotes and opinions are my own.

Review: Flanimals by Ricky Gervais

I love Ricky Gervais. I know, I shouldn't. He's politically incorrect and sometimes even quite vulgar. But he makes me laugh long and hard. And besides, he can't be all that bad if he's friends with Elmo.

I also love pop-up books, possibly even more than I love Ricky Gervais. So when the two of them are combined, as is the case with the Flanimals Pop-Up book by Ricky Gervais and illustrated by Rob Steen (Candlewick Press, $19.99), you know this grandma is surely in heaven.

Ricky's people (the publisher) recently contacted my people (me) ending with me being the lucky recipient of a copy of Flanimals to review. It's a magical, often hysterical, introduction to the Flanimal kingdom, a collection of outlandish creatures existing in the twisted mind of Mr. Gervais. In Flanimals, the creatures -- everything from Sprengled Humpdumblers and Splunges to Bloggulous Boinglubbers and Bletchlings -- spring to 3-D life with the turning of pages.

One of the niftiest Flanimal features is that there's not only a major pop-up popping from the center as each page is turned, there also are minor pop-ups and wiggly wonky-does in the corner of each page, set into motion with the pull of a tab or opening of a small flap.

I found Flanimals ingeniously delightful, at times rather insightful. Take, for instance, the Flanimal called "Print" (aka the Addle-Sprungnurdler), which pops from the corner of one page. Its description: "The Print can fly, but only vertically downward. ... It uses gravity and stupidity." Sounds much like the print publication I used to work for, actually.

Yes, I loved opening and closing the pages, pulling the tabs, wiggling the wonky-does of Flanimals. But the real test of such a delightful book was Bubby. I thought he'd be enthralled by the creatures coming to life before his eyes. And he was ... for a bit. His favorites were the Grundit and the Molf, but mostly because they had large mouths in which he was determined to insert the golf balls he carried around the house with him. Grandma cut those ball-swallowing tricks short, for fear my precious Flanimals would be damaged. Same goes for his pushing and pulling of the tabs on each page, tabs he insisted on manipulating himself.

I must admit, it was likely my reluctance in fully sharing Flanimals that kept Bubby from enjoying it to the full extent. Although even if I had let him have at it, I still think the craft and creativity of Flanimals would be lost on one so young. The book is recommended for ages five and up, but I'd say Flanimals is best enjoyed by adults ... or older kids who just might be savvy enough to pick up on Gervais' sarcasm and subtle wit -- while gently pulling the tabs and popping open the creatures.

Which is just fine with me, for I can now put this extra-special book safely away on the shelf -- for me and only me to pull down and pop up and open safely by myself.