Judy Blume - Are You There God? Its Me, Margaret.

Product Details

Published: April 2010

Publisher: Random House Children's Books

Age Range: Young Adult

ISBN-13: 9780385739863

ISBN: 0385739869

Margaret Simon, almost twelve, has just moved from New York City to the suburbs, and shes anxious to fit in with her new friends. When shes asked to join a secret club she jumps at the chance. But when the girls start talking about boys, bras, and getting their first periods, Margaret starts to wonder if shes normal. There are some things about growing up that are hard for her to talk about, even with her friends. Lucky for Margaret, shes got someone else to confide in...

someone who always listens.

Biography

A pioneer of books for young adults and the author of classics such as Are You There God? It'sMe, Margaret, the Fudge series, and many others, Judy Blume has always had the uncanny ability to capture the embarrassments and worries of growing up, striking comforting chords with readers of all ages.

Judy Blume

To My Mother

Are you there God? It's me, Margaret. We're moving today.

I'm so scared God. I've never lived anywhere but here.

Suppose I hate my new school? Suppose everybody there hates me? Please help me God. Don't let New Jersey be too horrible. Thank you.

We moved on the Tuesday before Labor Day. I knew what the weather was like the second I got up. I knew because I caught my mother sniffing under her arms. She always does that when it's hot and humid, to make sure her deodorant's working. I don't use deodorant yet. I don't think people start to smel bad until they're at least twelve. So I've stil got a few months to go.

I was real y surprised when I came home from camp and found out our New York apartment had been rented to another family and that we owned a house in Farbrook, New Jersey. First of al I never even heard of Farbrook. And second of al , I'm not usual y left out of important family decisions.

But when I groaned, "Why New Jersey?" I was told, "Long Island is too social Westchester is too expensiveand Connecticut is too inconvenient."

So Farbrook, New Jersey it was, where my father could commute to his job in Manhattan, where I could go to public school, and where my mother could have al the grass, trees Judy Blume

Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret

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and flowers she ever wanted. Except I never knew she wanted that stuff in the first place.

The new house is on Morningbird Lane. It isn't bad. It's part brick, part wood. The shutters and front door are painted black. Also, there is a very nice brass knocker. Every house on our new street looks a lot the same. They are al seven years old. So are the trees.

I think we left the city because of my grandmother, Sylvia Simon. I can't figure out any other reason for the move.

Especial y since my mother says Grandma is too much of an influence on me. It's no big secret in our family that Grandma sends me to summer camp in New Hampshire.

And that she enjoys paying my private school tuition (which she won't be able to do any more because now I'l be going to public school). She even knits me sweaters that have labels sewed inside saying Made Expressly for You byGrandma.

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And she doesn't do al that because we're poor. I know for a fact that we're not. I mean, we aren't rich but we certainly have enough. Especial y since I'm an only child. That cuts way down on food and clothes. I know this family that has seven kids and every time they go to the shoe store it costs a bundle. My mother and father didn't plan for me to be an only child, but that's the way it worked out, which is fine with me because this way I don't have anybody around to fight.

Anyhow, I figure this house-in-New-Jersey business is my parents' way of getting me away from Grandma. She doesn't have a car, she hates buses and she thinks al trains are dirty. So unless Grandma plans to walk, which is unlikely, I won't be seeing much of her. Now some kids might think, who cares about seeing a grandmother? But Sylvia Simon is a lot of fun, considering her age, which I happen to know is sixty. The only problem is she's always asking me if I have boyfriends and if they're Jewish. Now that is ridiculous because number one I don't have boyfriends. And number two what would I care if they're Jewish or not?

We hadn't been in the new house more than an hour when the doorbel rang. I answered. It was this girl in a bathing suit.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Nancy Wheeler. The real estate agent sent out a sheet on you. So I know you're Margaret and you're in sixth grade. So am I."

I wondered what else she knew.

"It's plenty hot, isn't it?" Nancy asked.

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"Yes," I agreed. She was tal er than me and had bouncy hair. The kind I'm hoping to grow. Her nose turned up so much I could look right into her nostrils.

Nancy leaned against the door. "Wel , you want to come over and go under the sprinklers?"

"I don't know. I'l have to ask."

"Okay. I'l wait."

I found my mother with her rear end sticking out of a bottom kitchen cabinet. She was arranging her pots and pans.

"Hey Mom. There's a girl here who wants to know if I can go under her sprinklers?" "If you want to," my mother said. "I need my bathing suit," I said.

"Gads, Margaret! I don't know where a bathing suit is in this mess."

I walked back to the front door and told Nancy, "I can't find my bathing suit."

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"You can borrow one of mine," she said.

"Wait a second," I said, running back to the kitchen. "Hey Mom. She says I can wear one of hers. Okay?"

"Okay," my mother mumbled from inside the cabinet. Then she backed out. She spit her hair out of her face. "What did you say her name was?"

"Umm Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler."

"Okay. Have a good time," my mother said.

Nancy lives six houses away, also on Morningbird Lane. Her house looks like mine but the brick is painted white and the front door and shutters are red.

"Come on in," Nancy said.

I fol owed her into the foyer, then up the four stairs leading to the bedrooms. The first thing I noticed about Nancy's room was the dressing table with the heartshaped mirror over it.

Also, everything was very neat.

When I was little I wanted a dressing table like that. The kind that's wrapped up in a fluffy organdy skirt. I never got one though, because my mother likes tailored things.

Nancy opened her bottom dresser drawer. "When's your birthday?" she asked.

"March," I told her.

"Great! We'l be in the same class. There are three sixth grades and they arrange us by age. I'm April."

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"Wel , I don't know what class I'm in but I know it's Room Eighteen. They sent me a lot of forms to fil out last week and that was printed on al of them."

"I told you we'd be together. I'm in Room Eighteen too."