The Midwife's Apprentice

 I recently read a book that has taken over my life. I think about it all the time, I made my husband read it and it comes up in our conversations at least five times a day. In fact, the only reason I read this book - The Midwife's Apprentice - was because of that book. The book is called The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Japanese organizing-guru Marie Kondo. She calls her tidying process the KonMari method and it has quickly become a verb in my house. "Are we KonMari-ing tonight?" "I thought if we KonMari-ed our clothes, all our problems would be solved!" "Look at this amazing KonMari-ed drawer!" I'll spare the details, but the jist of her method is that you have to hold every thing you own in your hands (in a specific order: clothes, books, papers, etc.) and ask yourself if it sparks joy. If it doesn't, it's gone. We completed clothes last week and this week we're going to tackle books. One of Marie's rules about books is that you can't open the book while you're holding it in your hands because reading clouds your judgment. You have to make your decision based solely on how you feel when you hold it. I anticipated this being a problem because I have gathered Newberys at garage sales, thrift stores and flea markets for a few years now, but many of them I don't remember at all since I read them 20 years ago. This had me worried because they certainly wouldn't spark joy when I held them if I had no idea what was inside, but I collect them for my children to enjoy someday. So I thought I'd just read them all really quick and see what I thought. This may actually be cheating the KonMari method, but I don't care.

The last time I read The Midwife's Apprentice, I was 11 (August 29, 1996 to be exact). I have no memories of reading it and the only thing I could remember about the book is that it was not one of my childhood favorites. I imagine I will not have many memories of reading it this time around either. It just isn't very memorable, though I did find it slightly more interesting this time (I think) because I am now familiar with midwives and I know what a difference a good midwife can make! My son was delivered by an exceptional one, in my opinion, who provided patient, positive (and, importantly, only intermittent) support during the most painful 33 hours of my life. The midwife in this book is NOT that kind of midwife. So I was a little bummed when Alyce went back to work for her at the end, though it did seem like her best option for her future.

This book's fate: donation pile.