Childishness vs. Headiness

There's an interesting juxtaposition of childishness and headiness I experienced when I began reading Kindred. Whoever it was that, in class the other day, said this text wasn't too different from some entries in the Magic Tree House series hit the nail right on the head in my opinion (if you who said this reads this entry, I apologize for not knowing your name). What really connects Kindred to the many works shat out by Mary Pope Osborne, at least in my mind, is the way in which they both deal with the issue of time travel. Yes, I agree that the ease with which Dana accepts time travel is important to preserving her life and her sanity, but the quickness with which she accepts this development mirrors my own rapid suspension of disbelief when I was a first grader poring over Sunset of the Sabertooth. I don't think Dana's a simpleton, but if a classroom full of groggy college students could figure out that she can't really change or ensure that anything happens (because it's already happened and still is happening), I think she could too. It's almost like she's avoiding the reality that she continues to be confronted by, and, for some reason, this bothers me quite a bit.