Uncommon Julia

Book Review: It's Not Me, It's You by Stefanie Wilder-Taylor

Ordinarily, I'd start off a book review with a neat little introduction or synopsis.  But in this case, it's not necessary.  Everything I love about Stefanie (we're buds, you see) was summed up for me in one line of this book.  She had me at...

"Anytime I hear an Ani DiFranco song, I can't help but think about vaginas."

I peed my pants when I read that line.  Then I read it again and peed some more.

Wilder-Taylor, who also wrote Sippy Cups Are Not For Chardonnay and Naptime Is the New Happy Hour deviates from her mommy-themed stories for this book, compiling instead a collection of hilarious, touching, sharp-witted stories from her life - the majority of which (shockingly) happened before the kids.

I thoroughly enjoyed the book.  It's a quick read, and lighthearted - even though she does touch on a number of issues that clearly have deeper significance.  It's Not Me, It's You rambles in a way that fits her humor, and reveals enough about Wilder-Taylor to give you the impression you've been friends all along, while simultaneously making you suspect there's a lot more to the story.

Amidst much ado, Wilder-Taylor recently became sober shortly after the book was released (or maybe it was just before?), and she was only a few months into her sobriety when we met at BlogHer '09.  I think that revelation impacted the way I read these stories, and gave them an additional layer.  It also made me proud of Stefanie for being strong enough to go through such a striping evolution publicly.

In short, I think she's cool.  And the book made me pee my pants.  Anyone who can combine "Ani DiFranco" and "vaginas" in one fell swoop is aces in my book.

Book Review: The Double-Daring Book for Girls by Andrea J. Buchanan and Miriam Peskowitz

I didn't get in on the review of the first book, The Daring Book for Girls, a few years back and man was I disappointed.  So this time, when the chance came along to get my hands on the second version, The Double-Daring Book for Girls, I hit reply and said "yes" as fast as I could.  Of course, as is my nature, all that hurry-up disappeared and I've now procrastinated until the veeeeeery last minute to post my review.  That's just how I roll, people.

This review, though, is a bit different because it's been set up as a "book shower" and I've been tasked with issuing a challenge: A DARE, if you get my drift.

The book is filled from front to back with all sorts of random bits of knowledge, trivia, skills, and advice that girls should learn over the course of their childhoods.  Sure, some of the skills would be great to teach boys as well, but there's a special effort to teach or talk about some things that are more specific to girls, or subjects that are traditionally overlooked. (The entries on "How to Say No/How to Say Yes" and "Shooting Pool" come to mind.)

So I took my sweet time flipping through the pages, trying to think up the perfect activity for a dare.  The biggest problem has been my own personal preferences in activities, paired with my ability (or inability, as it were) to do something fancy like upload a video of myself.  (Hey, hate the computer, not the playa.)

Take, for example, the excitement I felt over seeing the entry "Dancing the Cotton-Eyed Joe".  Sweet!  Here's something my back-woods, cotton-pickin heritage has actually prepared me for!  I've spent a lifetime dancing the Cotton-Eyed Joe, the Chicken Dance, and the Schottish at junior high dances, weddings, and even a few saw-dust floored dance joints.  (What? Stop looking at me like that.)

Sadly, upon reading the entries two descriptions, versions one and two, I discovered they ARE WRONG!  WRONG, I tell you!  They've got some creepy line-dancing methodology that disturbs the rural purist in me.  So I thought it would be great to show you the CORRECT way to do the Cotton-Eyed Joe... except for, you know, the inability to show it to you.  Plus, what would I dare you to do, save trying to beat my speed?  Or maybe performing the most artful version?

So I moved on.  I thought about challenging you to share your most Notable Women story, but that just sounded sorta bland.  Finally, I found something that I think we'll all find entertaining.

Sayin's.  Or "colloquialisms", if you please.  The entry "Phrases and Idioms and Their Origins" outlines 16 sayings and how they came to be.  A few were stories I did not know.  I've mentioned before that I speak in sayings.  Clearly, some of that bleeds through here.  Though, I'm willing to bet that many more sneak into my everyday speaking than do on the screen - typing being so wearing and whatnot.

I say things like "as the crow flies" without batting an eyelash (see!), and, when in the right company, I'll let fly with some of the more obscure and colorful sayin's in my considerable repertoire.  And, since I love a good story, I know the origin of most (though not all, thankfully, I think) of them.

So, here's my challenge:

Tell me your absolute best sayin'.  Whether it's rare, or particularly descriptive, colorful, or just goes with a great story - tell me what it is and 1) where it came from, or 2) the best instance you've heard it used.

I realize this is a completely arbitrary and subjective contest, but who cares?!  It'll be fun!

Clearly, I'll go first:

This one is courtesy my mother, who is directly and genetically responsible for my idiom addiction.  My mother, who, keep in mind, is one of the most polite, courteous, and calm women you'll ever know.

Once, when hanging out with friends over a dinner party, one of the guys asked my mom for clarification about some upcoming event.  Because the event in question was primarily the purview of the men at the party, my mom replied, without dropping a beat: "I don't know - You're the one fuckin' this duck, I'm just holdin' it's wings."

He practically fell on the floor from laughing so hard, first, because my mom had sworn.  And second, because of the saying itself.  He went around for months - nay, YEARS - retelling that story to anyone who knew my mom.  And so did I.  Because who wouldn't?

Okay, you're up: Show me whatcha got!

Book Review: 10-10-10, Ten Minutes 10 Months 10 Years, A Life-Transforming Idea by Suzy Welch

I haven't reviewed a book in quite some time.  Primarily because I simply don't have much time these days, and what time I have is spent reading up on being highly sensitive or a visual-spatial learner.  And there's only so much room for non-fiction in my life.  But I digress.

I signed up for this particular review because 10-10-10 was described as a "life-transforming" decision-making model.  Seeing as how we're awash in crucial decisions in the Uncommon household, I signed up.

Right off the bat, I was inclined to like the book because the author, Suzy Welch, looks a whole helluva lot like a good friend and favorite client.  And I wasn't disappointed.  The book's intro is possibly one of the best I've read in non-fiction: engaging, funny, with a strong voice and personal connection.

"...[my father] taught me how to parallel-park in that way people do when they are engineers in their souls and understand physics in their brains, and are teaching people who are writers in their souls and understand poetry in their brains. We laugh about it today."

The book is, in fact, one part biography, one part personal interviews of others, and one part how-to.  She weaves the three nicely, and both her stories and those of  her followers (for lack of a better word) serve as illustrations of the basic tenets of 10-10-10.

Which is this: Consider any decision - be it big, small, or somewhere in between - from the perspective if the immediate future (10 minutes), mid-range (10 months), and long-term (10 years). Those time references are merely symbolic, and handy in the mnemonic sense. And you should make those considerations around your well-thought-out, identified values.

It's really a simple process.  Welch walks you through her personal break-through that led to the 10-10-10 process, and some of the neuro- and behavioral science behind it.  On the whole, I think 10-10-10 is a good, solid process that eliminates some of our snap decisions and general thoughtlessness that results from our over-done lifestyles.

But I did have a few minor disagreements.  The biggest was her repeated assertion that "gut instinct" is largely unreliable as a decision-making tool.  I think the rub here is that we disagree about what qualifies as gut instinct.  I believe that what Welch refers to as "gut" is actually impulse.  And I would agree that impulse doesn't always lead to great decision-making.   

When I refer to gut instinct, I'm talking about somethign else: an assessment of factors too numerous to describe that leads you to a conclusion that, while you cannot describe it, is nonetheless fact-based and quite often, reliable.  True gut instinct (also called "intuition") is persistent.  It doesn't change from minute to minute because it is based on the myriad of non-verbal, environmental, and other "soft" cues that we consistently gather from our surroundings.  Years ago I read The Gift of Fear, which describes this in much better detail.  Simply put, it's that nagging feeling that tells you "somethings wrong here" or "somethings right", "but I just can't put my finger on why".

But people do conflate the two - impulse and true intuition.  And I think Welch's point that our impulses get in the way of sound decisions is valid.

Another minor peeve was an overuse of examples.  The concept really is quite simple and elegant, and after more than two stories to illustrate how it works within a particular area (work, parenting, relationships, friendships) I began to get that, "yeah, yeah, yeah - got it." feeling.

And finally, I kept running into a problem that may or may not be specific to me: my deftness at playing devil's advocate.  For the immediate future scenario, I always felt confident. For the mid-range, well, so-so.  But then, more often than not, the long-term scenario opened up into a great vast field of "could be this, could be that, could be the other," or worse, a giant floating question mark because of a dearth of information. 

Even if I managed to ferret out a possible scenario, I would then say to myself, "sure, but what about this," just to argue the point, and I'd turn the whole thing on it's head.  Still, even my stubbornness can be subjugated to good-'ol common sense.

Let's take our decision to sell our house as an example:

First we form the question: Should we sell our house?  In the next ten minutes, the implications are not to promising on either side: I'd feel a great deal of loss and no small amount of failure if we sold it.  Conversely, the potential relief at unloading the debt would feel liberating, healthy, and like a good course-correction. 

Now, for the mid-range: Ten months out, we would hope the house has sold.  We've cut our monthly payments in half, and have a little in the bank for emergencies. OR, the house hasn't sold, and we're either in foreclosure or declaring bankruptcy.   Lots of floating question marks here.

Finally, the long-term: Ten years from now, surely the economy has recovered and Todd and I are both gainfully employed.  We're living in a different house somewhere and the girls are bordering their teenage years.  If we sold the house and managed to pay off our remaining debt, we could feasibly live in a house we own.  If we had to declare bankruptcy, we would have had a hard time qualifying to rent a place, let alone buy one, but our credit should have recovered by now.

Based on this, our decision to sell seems like the right one.  It's the long-term that clenches the deal.  But you can see how tempting it is for my mind to trot out the laundry list of what-ifs.

To sum it up, I really like the book and her model.  It's an easy, engaging read and I think that you could incorporate 10-10-10 into your everyday life without too much effort, and turn to it explicitly when the giant issues come around.  Being deliberate, analyzing your values, and starting open dialogues with the imiportant people in your life is ALWAYS a good thing, and I think Welch is onto an simple plan for doing just that.

BUY THIS BOOK!

At one point in my illustrious blogging career, I was a member of the doggedly determined, yet fabulously witty, not to mention gorgeous, though now defunct Vagina Posse.  A fellow member was the G&D Tertia.  And if you've been living under one of the few undisturbed rocks in the land of infertility & loss (we've turned them all over, you see - "leave no stone unturned") and don't know of Tertia, then boy-howdy is this post for you.

Because Tertia wrote a book.  And if you've got a vagina, or know someone who does, and if you've ever considered using said vagina to, oh, say, grow a human, or know someone who has, then this book is for you.

Now, Tertia lives in an alternate universe in a place called South Africa.  And even though she wrote and published the book several years ago now, it's taken her quite some time and effort to get the book published here in the United States - something to do with teleportation devices and conflicting states of matter.  Anyhoo, the book is now availabe via Amazon.  Huzzah!

Oh wait - I'm forgetting the most important fact: Why, you ask, am I pushing this book so hard?  Well, I'll tell you.  Because I was the SOLE INSPIRATION!  It's all right there in the title (okay, subtitle) "addicted to hope".  I created the Hope Addict.  And were it not for me, Tertia would never have written such a compelling story.  Clearly.  Look, she even says so herself, and I quote, "Absolutely!"

See! Proof positive.

So go ahead, buy it.  And tell Tertia I sent you so she'll quite pestering me.

Review: That Baby DVD and CD

That Baby DVD (or, as my daughter calls it, "The movie with the girl with hair like me") is the product of several Portland musician/parents' obvious frustration with the kidlet music scene.  And who can blame them.  Watching baby- or child-appropriate programming is a bit like being trapped in an elevator filled to the brim with bad Muzak.  Only worse.  Because there are usually unintelligible, aesthetically-disturbing visual images to go with the "musical" sounds that seem to have been produced by no known or recognizable instrument. 

Sure, the baby loves the visual delights of the Baby-Whatchamacalit series, but let's face it, unless you've smoked enough of the good stuff to rival your last college three-day concert extravaganza in the mud, the noise coming from the living room TV set is more likely to send you into a postal rage than to entertain you.

Enter: That Baby DVD.  The DVD features acoustical covers of well-know and generally beloved musicians.  The song selection is great and the lyrics are sung in voices that children can understand - which makes sing-alongs much easier.  I'll admit, though, that I wasn't 100% cognizant of some of the lyrics from favorite songs until now.  Or perhaps I'd just never paid that much attention.  (Like the slightly-though-unintentionally misogynistic lyrics to "When We Grow Up" - "Maybe you'll be a lady and I'll be an engineer" says the little boy. ) Still, I'll take good music and musicians over most all of the crap on radio stations or in the more common children's compilations any day.  (Holy crap!  How old do you have to be to utter a sentence like that last one?)

I'll also warn that many of the songs get stuck in your head.  But that's not a bad thing.  Which would you prefer, "The Wheels on the Bus" or "Happiness Runs"?  Me, too.  And apparently, it is not possible for me to sing the phrase "Pony Boy" repetitively without turning it into "Poiny Boy".  Believe me, I tried.

Now, onto the visuals.  I think they are head-and-shoulders above the competition.  There are still a few slight-psychedelic ones, but apparently, kids dig 'em.  And I suppose this is just as much for them as it is the grown-ups.  Wait, what?  It's more about them.  Oh.  Okay.

In that case, I'll tell you that Hannah chose to watch That Baby DVD over Cinderella (Hey, don't blame me. It seems that Disney princesses now comes encoded in girl DNA.  All that crap made it into my house against my better efforts.).  She really likes the images of the children and the fact that they're actively dancing and playing musical instruments helps a lot.  Singing is one of her favorite activities right now, and we were both relieved to have new additions to our increasingly tired repertoire. 

So: Great product.  Parents dig it, and so do kids.  I wouldn't say it's perfect, but really, I'm not sure anything that has to juggle the two audiences (grown-ups and non-grown-ups) will ever make both truly peachy pleased.  That Baby DVD certainly comes much closer that others I've seen.

The nice folks at MotherTalk passed along this information if you're thinking of buying:

    Enter the coupon code "MotherTalk" when purchasing and save 20% on your entire order!
From now until May 18th, all orders using the coupon code "MotherTalk" will be entered in a drawing to win a new iPod nano.

_______________________________

Which brings me to another question: I have about four PayPal gift certificates just waiting for charity.  Any suggestions?  I will likely donate them to little Emily, but I'd like to know if there's another cause I should be considering.

 

Book Review: Dirty Little Secrets

I know, I know.  Probably too many book reviews and not enough about me.  Wait.  That didn't sound right.  Well, you know what I mean.  This'll be the last for a while.  I'll resume our regularly scheduled bitching blogging tomorrow.

When the compact Dirty Little Secrets from Otherwise Perfect Moms by Trisha Ashworth and Amy Nobile was offered up for a review, the good folks at Mother Talk warned that reviewers should be able to handle sometimes disturbing confessions from well-meaning moms.  "Sure.  No problem," I thought, "I'd love to stumble across some gems that will perhaps make me feel better about my own occasionally shameful moments."

They also promised it would be a quick read - which the slim 112-pager (one quote per page, roughly) certainly is.  But instead of digging into some juicy tidbits, my initial thought was simply: "Eh."

Frankly, some of these so-called confessions are so bland I have no idea how they qualify.  Perhaps I'm too laid back myself?  Take this one:

"I locked my two-year-old daughter in my car and stood helplessly as I watched her take her hair clip out of her hair and put it in her mouth." [emphasis theirs]

Okay, now I get that locking your kid in the car is scary - especially since in my part of the country kids can easily die from heat exhaustion as a result.  So, yes, absolutely a "holy crap, that was scary!" story - but a confession?  And what, in God's name, does it matter that she put a hair clip in her mouth?  I doubt that part would have even registered with me during the ensuing freak-out.

Other confessions were so bland and cliche that I was almost angry at wasting the nanosecond it took to read it:

"My biggest fear as a mother is being judged by other moms."

Um, join the club.

And yet others were less shocking than simply sad:

"My husband would be really surprised if he knew that I thought about divorce more times than I can count."

The last person I heard say something similar actually did divorce a few months later.  Which is fine, if that's what has to happen.  But reading about it in what is supposed to be a light-hearted romp through the less-than-perfect world of mothering, well it's just disheartening.

But it wasn't all blah.  There are a few great, laughable quotes, and a handful more that had my moms' night out group scribbling notes, like the following gem:

"When I'm at Safeway I buy a Nordstrom gift card and charge it as groceries, I can justify it that way."

Or my personal favorite:

"My rule is beer at lunch, wine at 5. Wine at lunch feels like I have a 'problem' but beer just seems OK."

Unfortunately, this book's so-so factor outweighs the laughable moments.  I appreciate where they were trying to go, but the authors just didn't get me there.  You'd probably get just as lucky if you bring a few bottles of wine to the next mommy get-together.

Book Review: Mama Rock's Rules: Ten Lessons for Raising a Household of Successful Children

First, let me sheepishly proclaim, "The dog ate my homework."  I was supposed to post this review on Monday.  But, understandably, I let some good, 'ol fashioned griping and a few work items take priority.  My apologies.

In a world filled with lots and lots (and lots) of fuzzy, fluffy books on parenting, Rose Rock (mama to Chris Rock) has certainly found a gap.  Her new book, Mama Rock's Rules, is a refreshing, and dare I say "old school" approach to parenting that just plain makes good sense.  Instead of pointing to scientific studies about the merits of "sleep methods" or the effects of breastfeeding of grown men's ability to bond, blah blah blah - Rock bases her rules on real-life experience.  Experience gained by raising, as the title says, a whole household of successful people.  Ten kids plus 17 foster children, to be specific.  Add to that her lifelong work as a preschool and special needs educator, and by golly you've got a woman I'll listen to.

The book is well-formated and approachable, with the promised ten lessons laid out in ten chapters.  She pulls out special bits of wisdom and tools into "Mama's Mojo" blurbs, and she recaps each mini-lesson at chapter's end.  The advice doesn't hone in on early parenting, but rather rules that lend themselves to nearly any age - including high school, which is an age I have yet to see addressed in any of the parenting books I've read so far.

Before I get into what I particularly loved about this book, let me get one point of criticism out of the way:  I am not overly impressed with the readability of the writing.  I feel like Rose's actual voice is trapped somewhere in there, but doesn't come through too clearly.  Who knows who's to blame for that, given the lengthy list of people involved in the publishing of a book, but instead of simply going with a more casual true-to-life vernacular, you'll find stilted sayings that sound like they put her true phrases in straight-jackets, along with a healthy overuse of unnecessary "quotes".  Yeah.  Just like that.

To solve this for myself, I simply threw in a few more "'em"s instead of "them"s, and filled in some colloquialisms when needed.

Okay, onto the good stuff. Rock's mantra throughout the book is one that I think many of us have lost sight of in our efforts to be perfect parents.  It's simple: "I am the parent. You are the child.  It's my job to make the rules, and your job to follow them."  Paired with reminders that made me take a good look at myself, like when to let things slide and when not to, Rock's advice is where the rubber meets the road.  Some are highly-specific, others are broad concepts, but all of them are spelled out and applicable.

One of my absolute favorite chapters focuses on the power of the family meal.  I know that's a popular concept lately, but Rock goes into details and explains exactly why having a shared meal is so very important.  And then she shares her recipe for sweet potato pie.  What other parenting book have you read that includes that?!

"Once kids get a full stomach, things loosen up.  They not only eat the beans - they spill the beans.  Everything would come out at the table, especially secrets."

Her love of praise and self-esteem is evident throughout the book, as she reminds us that there is no such thing as too much praise.

"Each kid [in her son, Andre's class] was asked to share what their parents said about them; [the teacher] told us 95 percent of the kids in her class repeated something negative.  She quickly added that Andre was another story; he didn't hesitate to say, 'My mother thinks I'm the greatest thing there is!'"

And perhaps my favorite chapter title, "Don't Lie Down with Anything You Don't Want to Live with Forever" deals, obviously, with preparing kids to deal with sex (at whatever point that happens).

Since I'm obviously getting long-winded, I'll sum it us thusly: Take the time to get past the halting language and read this one.  It'll give you the long-term vantage point and straight-to-the-point tactics you've been missing.  And don't forget the sweet potato pie recipe.

Book Review: The Cure for Modern Life

Look Ma!  Fiction!

I know, it's a first.  I haven't yet reviewed a novel on this blog.  One advantage of childlessness (which, I admit, fails to make up for the disadvantages) is the ability to read.  You can read often, for fun, at hours of your choosing, and with a better-than-average rate of retention.

But once you've made it to the promised land of parenthood, your book fetish takes a beating. 
I believe this is the first work of fiction I've read since Caroline's birth eight months ago.  Wait.  Scratch that.  It's the first work of nonfiction that didn't specifically revolve around parenting.

The Cure for Modern Life is a love story.  Sort of.  It tells the story of what happens when the lives of people from two very different extremes intersect.  There are basically three main characters: a homeless boy who is doing his level best to provide for himself, his drug-addicted mother, and his baby sister; an executive in the pharmaceutical industry; and a self-fashioned "moralist"/former love interest of the executive.  Your average boy-meets-man-meets-former-love-interest-who's-dating-best-friend story.

As is my habit with books, I started out being a bit skeptical (don't ask me why, I really don't know).  In my experience, so-so books have one common flaw: you can see the author quite clearly in one of the characters.  It's sort of like their slip is showing the whole time, disconcerting somehow. (Okay, there are some instances in which that hasn't been a problem for me, but still.  Generally speaking I don't like it.)  So I kept looking for the author, Lisa Tucker, in each character.

Thankfully, she wasn't there.  At least, not intact.  Each character seemed quite real and adequately flawed - not some egocentric depiction of herself.  The little boy, Danny, in particular.  It's got to be tough to channel a nine-year-old homeless boy, yet Tucker seems to have done it.

The plot line is interesting, though not filled with mind-blowing twists, and I became attached enough to the characters to sneak reading in throughout the day to see what would happen to them.  That's no small compliment given the business of my average day.

As with Naptime, I find it really intriguing that blogging is a phenomenon of enough cultural import that it's made it's way into our narratives.  The "moralist" character writes a blog and it's mentioned in several different contexts.  I know I must seem like a total dork (but thankfully, only in my head) when I think, "Blogging?!  I do that!"

There's also an honest and interesting look at pregnancy and risk for those of "advanced maternal age" - a fear of potential Down's Syndrome and how women (and men) face the idea of termination, even before they know for sure if it's in their cards.   I particularly liked that Tucker teased out the fact that being pro-choice does not mean you are automatically willing to terminate.  It seems obvious, but is often overlooked or under-discussed.

I could not find much in the way of biographical information on Tucker, so I don't know if she's traveled down the primrose path of infertility or loss, but there is an undercurrent there that made me feel like she had.  Or knew someone who had.  Though, don't get me wrong, that's not nearly the central theme to the book.

Overall, I really enjoyed The Cure for Modern Life.  It raised some interesting issues and grounded them in well-developed characters.  The characters truly seemed to follow their own course, rather than preaching some agenda.  And I managed to read it in three days - which is nothing short of a miracle.

Book Review: Naptime Is the New Happy Hour

When I first received my copy of Stefanie Wilder-Taylor's new book, Naptime Is the New Happy Hour and Other Ways Toddlers Turn Your Life Upside Down (hitherto referred to as Naptime), I found a review (somewhere, which I now can't find to correctly credit) that said the book would make me wish she were my new best friend.

"Hm," I though, tersely, "We'll just see about that."  I can't help it.  For all my Pollyanna-ing, I'm contrary that way.

The book starts of a teeny bit slower than I expected, which allowed me to smugly believe that I may actually avoid the aforementioned desire to declare Stefanie my "BFF".  But then she warms up.  And what can I say... after her account of her first Pampered Chef party in the beehive of suburbia, how she was seated next to a woman who looked a bit like Lisa Loeb, but couldn't carry a conversation with a bucket and a shovel, who then, of course, turns out to really be Lisa Loeb who was likely put-off by Stefanie's somewhat abrasive attempts at conversation... well, I was hooked.

Because if I lived in L.A., that would be me.  I would be the chick making those kinds of impressions.  Open mouth, insert foot.  And then run home to write about it on the blog.

So there.  I admit it.  I have a cyber-crush on Stefanie.  And she loves me, too.  I have proof!  Look!  She commented on my blog!  And our kids both have curly hair, which totally means it's destiny.

I feel it's only fair as an impartial journalist that I admit this crush upfront, as it may color my perception of the book.  Ahem.  Now, where was I?

 

Naptime is a hybrid of girlfriend gossip-meets-girlfriend advice that's good for the soul.  It's not really a how-to or a manual, but she does have some good suggestions mixed in with the humor.  But who are we really kidding?  What we're really after is the humor.  At least I am.  Because I can find all the advice I could ever need - and more. way. WAY more. - on the internet.  Whereas finding good humor that steps over the line every so often with a well-placed swear word every now and then, well, that's much harder to find.  Though clearly, not impossible.  And if it's one thing that mom of toddlers need, it's a good laugh.

Stefanie writes in a tone and format that feels familiar to all us because it reads much like a good blog, with one well-thought-out post after another.  Minus the comments, obviously.  Which makes sense, since she writes a blog: Baby on Bored.  See, witty, no?  In fact, Stefanie is one of those urban legends we hear about in blogland.  Apparently, she was just writing her blog, minding her own business when WHAMO! an publisher said, hey, I know!  You should write a book!

Can you tell that jealousy figures largely into my crush?

But really now, back to the book.  As a resident of L.A., hot-spot and petri dish for all forms of extremism - Stefanie acts a bit like a wildlife guide, identifying, tracking, and observing various species of mommy, from the Too Cools (or "Tools", for short) to the Superliars (often know as Supermoms instead).  Her New Mommy Math is a handy tool for deciphering what other moms are really saying when they claim that processed sugar never touches their toddler's lips and that their television viewing is limited to a half-hour of educational content each day.  Sure, her descriptions are over super barely inflated, and stereotypical, but who cares?!  They're funny!  And they go a long way towards alleviating any mommy guilt you may be holding on to.  It turns out there really are lots of normal moms out there.  We're just to shocked by the more strident hardliners to speak up.

Stefanie also throws in some handy quizzes and bulleted tips to help you navigate the world of toddlerhood.  My favorite was her Playdate Quiz, which helps you identify whether or not another potential playdate mommy will fit with your sensibilities.  A sample:

"1. I show up at your door with a bottle of Pinot Grigio.  Your response:

A) What kind of a mother are you?

B) Oh, I would never drink this early, but I'll store it for you in my two-thousand-dollar Sub-Zero fridge.

C) Pop that sucker open, bitch!"

As it turns out, Stefanie and I would get along like gangbusters on playdates.  Though I do have to admit to actually liking the Wonder Pets, who make her list of top shows to avoid.

I'm tempted to turn this entry into a long list of favorite quotes (I kept snorting out loud and forcing quotes on Todd as he lay in bed next to me trying to watch High Stakes Poker - a good sign for the book, but a bad one for my husband), but I suppose that would defeat the purpose. 

In summary, Naptime may not be deep, but it is good.  It's funny.  You'll laugh.  And it's a quick read.  Score!

So go get it, and tell your friends the same.

Half-Baked Book Review: Spilled Milk, Breastfeeding Adventures and Advice from Less-Than-Perfect Moms, by Andy Steiner

This will be the first in a series of "half-baked" reviews.  Why?  Because I have wonderful intentions by not much time.  The author, Andy Steiner, sent me this book when Caroline was maybe a week old.  It sat wholly neglected on my nightstand for a while.  And then I picked it up and began reading it in two-page chunks, as time permitted.

So, in the interest of full disclosure, I have not read this book in it's entirety. I have, however, read enough to form an opinion.  So there.

Spilled Milk is not your typical how-to guide on breastfeeding.  There are no pencil sketches of correct latch, no tables of symptoms and their correlating cause, no hyped-up theories or propaganda about how breastfeeding is the only right thing to do.

Andy assumes that you'll learn as much as you can about the how-tos and whys in all of guides and classes that address breastfeeding.  Instead, she tried to replicate what may in fact be the most helpful form of advice known to womankind: the girls' pow-wow.  Spilled Milk reads much more like a transcript from my last Moms' Night Out than it does a breastfeeding manual.

Steiner goes out of her way to keep judgment out (in fact, my only complaint about the book is that she reiterates her "no judgment" statement a wee bit too much).  But I do agree that there's far to much judgment in most of the literature out there.  Breastfeeding is great - we get it!  We don't need to be beat over the head with it.  Nor do we need to keep the scarier stories of breastfeeding out of the canon for fear of scaring mothers away from trying. 

As a whole, moms are an intelligent breed.   If we make up our mind to try nursing, what we really need is the straight skinny on what it's going to be like and how to stay on track - not some soft-focus painting of how glorious breastfeeding is that just makes us feel like failures when reality doesn't play out accordingly.

I think Steiner has accomplished that goal quite well.  She interviewed dozens of women who had nursed - some more successfully than others - and compiled their stories.  She talks about the good, the bad, and the politically-charged.  She talks about mother-in-laws, well-meaning but ill-informed friends, gawkers, fathers, and random strangers.  She includes embarrassing stories of let-down fiascoes, accidental public flashing, painful accounts of clogged ducts and blistered nipples.  But she also talks of the bliss that can come in the wee hours when you've finally figured it out.  I had to laugh out loud as Steiner talked of the sonnets she's composed in her head as she nursed her four-month-old in the wee hours.  I laughed because I was doing the exact same thing the very night before.  Something to do with her arm acting like a charmed snake.  Hey, don't judge.  There were hormones and sleep deprivation involved!

Some of my favorite stories were those of mothers who seemed to have gone off the rails entirely due to all sorts of circumstances, but found their way through to some happy conclusion.  For some, it was a marriage of some nursing and some formula, for others it was exclusive breastfeeding, and for others it was a happy acceptance that their circumstances required formula and they were doing what was best for their baby.

I think the reason I like this book so much is that first-time mothers too often lack this sort of veteran-to-newbie mom exchange that in generations past informed most every mom's parenting decisions.  How-to is great, but "Watch out! Curves ahead!" is even better.

Spilled Milk is probably redundant for those moms who've already successfully negotiated nursing.  But for new moms or for those who are going to give nursing another shot, this book is a great tool for the arsenal. And from one mom to another, here's a hint: Read this and all other books BEFORE baby comes along.  Because you won't be reading again for a very long time.