Eagerly I await for the next few weeks to see the movie adaptation of I book that my daughter and I both read during this past bleak Winter. The movie, and book are called The Glass Castle. The book was written in 2005, but I came across it in Barnes and Noble, and couldn’t put it down. My daughter swiped it from me, and then finished it before I did. The book is a memoir, by Jeannette Walls. In her memoir, The Glass Castle Walls recounts her troublesome upbringing at the hands of an unconventional mother and father. While some reviews openly describe the unconventional parents as dysfunctional, it was one of those books that makes a parent pause for a long moment of self examination.
In the book, Mr. Walls called it Skedaddling when the family had to move quickly. We have moved our kids across the United states and the world teaching them through various unconventional methods, but we have never had to outrun the law or children’s services. Wall’s mother, an artist, was always throwing herself into her art with a sort of the grass will be greener on the other side, when I sell these paintings philosophy. We are currently living 2,500 miles from where our kids were born, and coincidently close to West Virginia, where the last half of The Glass Castle, takes place. I have probably said to my kids just wait until my book is done, just wait, just wait… although I have never not fed my children, and I have never lived in filth, I do not ever want my writing, to blind me to the point where I am acting like the mother of the Walls children.