perfect madness of motherhood

isn't that why they make Zoloft? Anyhoo...

Ok I was going to rant and rave but why bother? Other people have done it so much more thoroughly, eloquently, and sensibly than I ever could. Go read them, they make a lot of sense. I will content myself with telling one slacker-parent story, and go on to more interesting things.

Salon’s take
New York Times book review
Chez Miscarriage - she took the time to do all the archival work, and I appreciate her for it. She makes excellent points and backs them up with quotes from experts from all eras.

Gina had this to say, and as usual, she functions as my voice of reason:
That Salon article on the motherhood book should make you feel BETTER about making time for yourself. I read something somewhere that said that making your children the center of your universe does them several disservices, one being that they have no reason to want to be a grown up. We need to make sure to do adult things so our kids can see that being an adult is more than drudgery. I like that.

It does make me feel better, and it strengthens my resolve not to let my
kids – or me - get crazy(ier). My brother-in-law told us about this community soccer and was Si interested, his son (also 4) was going to play. When we asked when it was, he said Monday at 530. I just shrugged and said, That's the day they go to daycare and I work, and we are lucky to get home by six, and then we eat dinner, and after all, he's only four and let's face it, not too athletically inclined just yet.
It was like I'd shot the cats dead in front of him.
"Well, the kids just eat after, and I leave work a little early..."
I just said, "I am not interested in making *myself* nuts to get him to
soccer by 530, and making him wait to eat, for something he's not in love
with anyway." I mean, he's FOUR! (And his mother is selfish!) Isn't it enough that I provide stimulating and interesting toys and activites and leave him plenty of time for stuff he does love to do like drum and listen to music? I think so, but what the hell do I know? I mean, those kids may play soccer, but did they get to have a Mardi Gras parade? : )
But you know, Si's only four and it's already starting. Brace myself, right? I didn't do anything in grade school except go to school, come home, do homework, and play Barbies with my little friends across the street. Summer was for lazing around the wading pool, eating popsicles, riding bikes, and playing Kick the Can and Jailbreak until the street lights came on. I think I started gymnastics once a week in 5th grade, and I did do a week-long day camp for gymnastics that summer. But mostly we did lots of nothing. And I managed. I know it's a different world these days but I don't think it's THAT different yet. Not for me.

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Now for the really interesting thing – The Tournament of Books.
Go Cloud Atlas! You can kick Charlotte’s ass!

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I don’t understand the point of the new International Booker Award. It’s given for an author’s lifetime work, and it’s given every two years. Why not just hand out all the prizes to the extensive list of nominees right now and save the hassle of having to nominate the same authors over again in two years? Because let’s face it, it’s not as if some brilliant new writer will come on the scene and garner a nomination for a lifetime achievement award, so we’re working from the same pool for years.

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Last night I finished Patricia Heaton’s Motherhood and Hollywood: How to Get a Job Like Mine. It was at times laugh-out-loud funny; her take on middle-class suburban summers rang so true and was so hilarious, I laughed so hard I almost threw up. Heaton seems pretty down to earth and might be fun to hang out with. It’s always nice to read a book like that.