Dirty Little Secret

I am way too lazy to have an affair. Of course I have a moral objection to having one as well. But even if I could completely disregard the pain it would cause Hot Guy, the dishonesty I would have to employ and the utter selfishness it would entail, I still couldn’t have an affair. I don’t want to work that hard for a few hours a week with anybody I didn’t give birth to.

I know this for sure after reading Elin Hilderbrand’s A Summer Affair, courtesy of Mother Talk. In the novel, Claire, mother of four and artist, has an affair. Usually while her clueless husband babysits the kids and her high school sweetheart (who’s now a famous rock star) pines for her. Seriously. Despite the fact that Claire has a piece in the Whitney Museum, is skinny, has an au pair and a dream sister-in-law, you can’t help but like her. Even when you want to smack her.

Claire’s affair begins soon after she’s stopped working on her art. Her husband doesn’t respect her talent – he doesn’t even want to have a real conversation with her. Consequently, Claire is vulnerable. And thus begins the affair. The novel chronicles it while chronicling a huge fundraising event – THE fundraising event – for the people of Nantucket. It also weaves in storylines from Claire’s sister-in-law and a few other characters.

The novel is well-written, but not brilliantly so. The plot can be predictable in some places, but mostly it’s fun in a soap-opera-y way. The characterizations are probably what elevate the novel above and beyond typical beach reading. It feels like I would see these people if I went to Nantucket next weekend (wouldn’t that be nice?). Some of them are still stuck in my head, even. Normally I wouldn’t be interested in a novel about an affair but because I cared about the people I was open to wherever the author took them.

Books are like crack for me. If libraries didn’t exist I would totally have to whore myself out to support my book habit. Seriously. So imagine my complete joy when I started getting emails from publishers offering me copies of books, if I would only review them on my blog. I can only hope that it’s not like  those drug dealers who offer free samples to get you hooked and then start demanding outrageous payments.

I’m generally happy to read whatever kind of book the publishers want to send me, partially because I like to think of my tastes as eclectic but mostly because no one is offering me books on organic chemistry. (Thank God) A few weeks ago I got an email entitled, “Slummy Mummy”. Hoping it was a book and not a personal slam, I was thrilled to find out that not only was it a book, it was one that someone wanted me to review.

The title snagged me immediately – who hasn’t felt like a slummy mummy? (Er, except for you dads and non-parents, I mean) The book centers on main character Lucy Sweeney, a London (I love books set in London, they feed my fantasy of living there someday) stay-at-home mom to three sons and an over-worked husband. Lucy’s intimidated by the seemingly perfect moms on the parent committee, has a crush on the cute stay-at-home dad and lives in a state of constant state of domestic crisis. In short, most of us can identify with at least one aspect of her life.

This is not a deep novel. If you’re questioning your place in the universe, Slummy Mummy is not going to help. If, however, you need a good laugh at the end of the day, this is the PERFECT book. It really did make me laugh out loud in places. Other places had me groaning in sympathy. Lucy and most of the other main characters are pretty believable and engaging, even if the situations can seem a bit extreme. It reminded me of Desperate Housewives – the characters seem so real that you forget how impossible most of the plots are. And some of the lines are just terrific.

The ending stretches credibility a bit, but no more than any other great beach read.  A number of reviewers have likened Lucy to Bridget Jones, which I can definitely see. (This book would be a better sequel than Edge of Reason, anyway) So if you liked Bridget Jones, I recommend reading this book. Those of you who wanted to slap Bridget, well, you should probably skip this one.

For those of you who are interested in reading Slummy Mummy by Fiona Neill, I am having my first contest. Leave a comment – preferably with a story about how you’ve been a slummy parent and/or person – and one commenter will be chosen to win my copy of Slummy Mummy.  Comments close at midnight on Friday and I will announce the winner on Saturday. Good luck!

I stopped reading edgy, dark books and watching serious, arty films when I started teaching in the ghetto. This was at the same time I was divorcing my pseudo-intellectual now-ex-husband, a man whose idea of a fun movie was Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. So there was probably a bit of rebellion against him, as well as needing fun to recover from my challenging and depressing work days, that contributed to my new obsession with mainstream mysteries and broad comedies.

After becoming a mother, my horizons didn’t really expand. Once in a while I would read a book (Middlesex) or see a movie (Crash) that was serious and dark, but the exceptions to my “fun and happy” rule were always, well, exceptional. (For some strange reason this dictum has not applied to my TV viewing, I’m still mourning the loss of the Sopranos).

So when I received my copy of More Than It Hurts You by Darin Strauss, I did not start reading it immediately. In fact, I put it off. The book tells the story of a family and a doctor caught up in  a case of Munchausen by proxy (the disease where a parent, usually a mother, makes a child sick to get attention). Not exactly beach reading.

Finally I settled down with the book. I was prepared to appreciate its beauty, even if I didn’t like the topic. I was prepared to find it insightful. I was not prepared to feel the exact same way that I do when watching Rock of Love. But as I read, I had the same litany that runs through my head while watching the alleged reality show: No one acts like that, that makes no sense even for a crazy person and I don’t believe any of you are real.

The story and the plotting make More Than It Hurts You compelling, but the characters left me flat. I didn’t believe any of them, nor did I like any of them. I was curious to see how the story turned out, but I didn’t care. I felt like the author told us everything about them, but hardly showed any of it. In some books, especially genre books, this works. It doesn’t work in serious literary fiction.

I feel horrible saying that. Until this review, I had a secret dream of somehow getting myself hired to be a reviewer (of books, movies, restaurants, TV shows, hotels, whatever). But I feel awful that I didn’t appreciate this book. Clearly, I am not cut out to be a professional reviewer. Maybe I missed something in this one, I don’t know. I’m going to head over to MotherTalk and see what everyone else thought about the book.

When I was pregnant with Ironflower, the first thing I purchased was pregnancy books – What To Expect When You’re Expecting and Pregnancy Week By Week. I didn’t buy a pregnancy journal because they were all just basically blank and what I really craved was information. Each new month and each new week made me so happy. I reread everything while I was pregnant with Lovebug. I didn’t journal much with either pregnancy. It was felt like my mind was spinning out of control or total mush.

My mind still feels the same with number three – too schizophrenic for proper journaling. And having basically memorized my pregnancy books, I hadn’t read much this time around. Although I may have been a little possessive with all the magazines in the OB’s office (I returned them. Honest.) Then the wonderful people at MotherTalk asked if I wanted to review The Pregnancy Journal.

I LOVE this one. Every single DAY has new information. Right this minute, for example, NewBaby is growing eyebrows. Okay, that may not seem exciting to you, but it thrills me to know that. (This is what happens when Jerseygirl can’t drink. Obsession with minutiae.) In addition to all the fun daily baby growing info, there are short sections for recording feelings (and weight – which I’m skipping. There doesn’t need to be a written record of my weight outside the doctor’s office. And I’m not even sure they really need one). There are also snippets of info about birth rituals in other cultures.

I wish I had had this when I was pregnant with Ironflower (seriously, how can they have come up with so many cool books and new products in less than four years?) and Lovebug. But it’s probably nice that number three will have something new that’s just for him as he’s getting a lot of hand-me-downs and garage sale finds.

I think this journal would be a fantastic baby shower gift or a great way to commemorate a second (or third or fourth) pregnancy. Even for a mom-to-be who “hates” writing, the journal would be great. Each writing section has a place for one word answers on moods and a few lines for writing. There are also questions at the beginning and ending of the journal. And even if a mom skips all the writing prompts, she still gets new info about her baby every single day. And THAT is cool.

When I signed up to review The Yummy Mummy Manifesto, I wasn’t exactly excited about it. Contrary to my years of being stylish (and there were some, I swear), as a mom I look more like a reader of “Can You Ever Have Enough Black Yoga Pants?”. Even the checker at the grocery store today (no fashionista herself, let me tell ya) mentioned how worn out and frumpy I looked (okay, she didn’t SAY the frumpy, but it was there). It’s not that I don’t like clothes (or hair with a style, or cute shoes, or well-blended make-up. . . .), I just haven’t been bothered for four years or so.

But while author Anna Johnson does talk about having a sense of personal style, her book isn’t about how to be a fashionable mom.  It’s about how to have a yummy life AS a mummy. The preface opens with this:

“Osho, the Indian mystic, once wrote that when a child is born, a mother is born too.”

Honestly, I’d never thought of it that way. Which may explain how, when leopard print mini-skirts and black tights no longer seemed appropriate, I had no idea what to wear. . .or who I was. This book talks about that journey – from “Wow, I’m pregnant!” to “Birth wasn’t how I’d imagined it would be” to “If I can’t make friends with the other mothers, does that mean my child is doomed to become a social outcast?” – in its emotional and creative aspects.

Johnson talks about sex, style, friendship, journaling, breastfeeding basics, cool names for your baby, healthy food ideas, nursery design, balancing working and mommying, staying at home without going crazy, crafts for women who hate them, mantras for bad days. . . .basically it’s like having a whole bunch of fantastic mommy blogs in one book.

The book ends with a list of twenty selfish pleasures “. ..That are not so selfish after all.” Can I tell you how much I love a mommy book that opens with a reminder that the alleged “mommy wars” are ridiculous and closes with a list of fun things to do for YOURSELF? Once again, I am just sad that I didn’t read this book when I first had Ironflower. Though a rereading would have been definitely in order now, as I’ve been ignoring my main creative outlet (blogging),  and forgotten what a cute outfit looks like on me.

If you’re feeling frazzled, worn out and/or frumpy, I suggest reading this book. Soon.

The Working Woman’s Pregnancy Book is the first pregnancy book I’ve ever read that wasn’t filled with either terrifying outcomes and impossible diets, or so much bitching and moaning that I hated life after reading it. The author, Marjorie Greenfield, is an obstetrician and gynecologist who presents everything calmly and clearly – from how your baby is growing to how to deal with nosy co-workers.

This being my third time around and all, I didn’t expect to get much new information from the book. Heh. I was wrong. I loved the way she talked practically (but not officiously) about working through fatigue and nausea, about returning to work after maternity leave and how to deal with your boss. All I could think about as I read was how much I wished I’d had this book when I was pregnant with Ironflower.

But the new info wasn’t all work-related. There were great charts in the back detailing infections and outcomes, ultrasound findings and other interesting pieces of information. There was great information about pumping, the realities (and drug options) of c-sections and newborn tests. And throughout the book there were quotes from real women (including a governor) who had worked through their pregnancies. The quotes were probably my favorite part, as it was reassuring to see how many other women felt the same way I did.

The book also discussed getting pregnant and infertility treatments, something I haven’t come across in any other pregnancy books.  At the back of the book (not scattered throughout for maximum terror) there’s information on dangerous symptoms, infections and on how health conditions may affect your pregnancy. But the general tone of the book is one that assumes that you and your baby will be just fine.

The Working Woman’s Pregnancy Book is also filled with questionnaires and charts to help you make important decisions, from choosing your doctor to choosing newborn tests. And even though this is my third, I hadn’t even thought of some of the questions on the doctor list. Which I will be asking at my next appointment. Anyway, the book is very handy if you’re having pregnancy brain like I am.

I am so sorry that this book came out after most of my friends had their first child, because I think it would be the perfect shower gift. Even the resource list (which included books and websites) was more comprehensive than most others I have found. If you know anyone who’s just gotten pregnant (especially with her first), recommend THIS book to them – not the one that has terrorized pregnant women for the last ten (or more?) years.

So I read another book about mommydom this weekend. It’s called Somebody’s Always Hungry and it’s by Juliet Myfanwy Johnson. I loved the title immediately. The book is a series of essays, progressively dealing with life as a mom of small children. It’s not an advice book per se, but I cheered when I read this:

“Then for the next two years ignore everything you read, everything people tell you. Trust your guts.” I wish I’d read that when Ironflower was a newborn. Although it’s not like I didn’t need a reminder.

I also loved (though this look at my impending future also made me shudder) this quote about what your lungs feel like when you’re very pregnant:

“In their natural state, the lungs are a comfortable yuppie gay couple living in a spacious loft apartment in Soho, and this baby is a three hundred pound redneck cousin who’s come to visit. Naturally, they’re devastated.” Isn’t that a fabulous description? I can practically see the overall-clad cousin sprawled on the Pottery Barn couch. My lungs are already shuddering in anticipation.

What is great about Johnson’s essays is that they capture both the humor and the joy of being a mom. A lot of times it seems like writers focus on one or the other (and those people who claim that it’s all joy all the time REALLY ANNOY me), but never really combine both. This book combines both so well that it reads just like a real diary of motherhood. There’s a great bit where she talks about how happy it makes her when she discovers some new friends live in the exact kind of chaos and mess that she and her family live in. And isn’t that the reason why a lot of us blog? To share our messiness?

Another thing I loved about the book is how it is so clear that she loves her children but she admits to yelling. That’s a tough one for me to admit and it makes me feel better to know that loving mothers DO yell sometimes.

Reading Someone’s Always Hungry made me appreciate what I have and giggle at the same time. I highly recommend it.

Mama Rock’s Rules, the new book by Chris Rock’s mom Rose (with Valerie Graham), is subtitled, “Ten Lessons for Raising a Household of Successful Children”. In it, Rose Rock uses her experiences raising 10 children, 17 foster children and teaching countless others to bluntly tell you how to raise your children.

And that’s not a bad thing, exactly. If you’re feeling lost and/or confused in your role as a parent, this book has a lot of advice about what your role REALLY is (you are not your child’s friend and that is a good thing) and how to succeed in it. One section is even entitled, “Pull Out That Can of Whup-Ass”, so you know that this isn’t some touchy feely book that makes you fearful of reprimanding your children, lest you damage their self-esteem.

Not that there’s not plenty of advice on building your child’s self-esteem, it’s just her belief is that self-esteem comes from appropriate praise and strong boundaries. Mama Rock demands respect, gives respect (in both praise and consequences) and has high expectations. And it’s hard to argue with someone whose children include a world-famous comedian, a minister and a small business owner. She obviously knows what she’s talking about when it comes to raising children.

Some of the advice seemed obvious to me, such as the section on reading – of course you should start reading to them as soon as possible! Of course it’s the key to everything! And I was a bit annoyed by the end of chapter summaries, because it’s not like the chapters were all that long or complex. I also disagreed with her section suggesting making the oldest child (or the oldest child at home) responsible for everyone all the time – she mentioned a story about Chris getting in trouble because his younger brother had lost his mittens. I think that’s unfair. But then again, Chris Rock seems to have recovered from all that responsibility quite well, hasn’t he?

In general, I liked the book. I liked it so much I wish I could have given it to a mom at the park the other day. Her son (who was about 3) kicked my son every time he tried to climb the ladder. And she would say, “No, no, don’t do that honey, ” while I comforted my hysterical two year old. Ironflower and Lovebug have each physcially assaulted another child once. And each time, we left the park immediately. And now they don’t do it anymore. I’m pretty sure Mama Rock would approve. Though she doesn’t get into a lot of specifics, especially for small children.

Though the chapter on sex was pretty specific. I really liked the line, “Less talk means more action.” She goes on to explain that, “Studies show that teen pregnancy, STDs and emotional problems are highest in the groups where sex was never discussed.”  She then goes on to give helpful tips on how to talk to your kids about sex and how to make them visualize the consequences.

Give this book a try if you’re feeling like your kids are getting out of control, or you’d like to hand it out to certain mothers at the playground.

This review brought to you by MotherTalk.