"Trust yourself. You know more than you think you do." - Benjamin Spock

I declined a lunch time trip to the library yesterday with one of my favorite people in the world to finish Judy Goldstein's and Sebastian Stewart’s 24-Karat Kids. And two nights running I stayed up well beyond what I knew I should have – I KNEW the baby was going to wake up around midnight - to keep reading

Granted, the cover art is deceptively floufy, and the title not very catchy, and I was misled regarding the subject matter by having begun Wendy Wasserstein's tiresomely and excruciatingly detailed book, Elements of Style, on somewhat the same subject - Pediatricians of the Rich and Famous - but *this* book is simple, clean, and a breath of fresh, fun air.

Shelley Green, our heroine - and this book does have that Austen-esque feel to it, that feel-good, light but clever touch and social satire present in a book like, say, Emma - Shelley Green is a fresh-out-of-residency pediatrician hired by the exclusive Upper East Side Madison Pediatrics.

My biggest grievance with many other so-called “chick lit” (or “mommy-lit”) books – Lauren Weisberger’s insanely annoying Devil Wears Prada immediately leaps to mind - is the heroine’ s absolute lack of spine. 24-Karat Kids’ Shelley Green has spine, and then some. She may be from a lower-middle class family she herself refers to as "the Green behemoth" but she has integrity, passion, and the courage of her convictions. She's worked hard to get where she is, and she deserves everything good that happens to her. But it's not just luck - Shelley makes a lot of her own good luck. She stands up to pushy parents, snotty kids, dismissive society mavens, and two-timing boyfriends with grace, style, considerable intellect, and a charmingly self-deprecating sense of humor.

Even the minor characters are intriguing and interesting; my favorites include Candace, the practice’s opera-loving receptionist; Christina Allen, the plastic surgeon who barters Botox for pediatric checkups; and Shelley's dad, a mail carrier who isn't quite sure what to do with or say to his wildly successful daughter. Of course not all the characters are likeable, and not all are more than two-dimensional – just like real life. And some of the most entertaining parts of the book are Shelley's interactions with the rich and/or famous and definitely crazy-making parents and their entitled offspring, Shelley’s actual patients. Although the air here on the Upper East Side is rareified, Shelley seems to make everyone feel at home, including the reader.

This is a book I’ll return to for comfort reading, like Bridget Jones' Diary or the first Shopaholic book. You could assert that the ending is a bit predictable, but while the basic plot may be, the way in which Shelley handles herself and the bullying and snobbery of the rich New Yorkers she has begun to mingle with socially, is not. Shelley Green is someone with whom I would love to be friends, and someone to whom I would not hesitate to entrust my children’s healthcare. Not that I could afford to. And besides, my Gap overalls would never make it past the Dolce&Gabbana-wearing mamas in the waiting room.


24-Karat Kids - Judy Goldstein and Sebastian Stewart

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In other news, our houseguests arrive tomorrow. There is still much to be done. But I wanted to go thrift shopping - I need some more little plates, to fuel my addiction; I need some vintage pillowcases, so Gina and I can try our hands at replicating those adorable Libby Dibby skirts; and I need to BUY. MORE. BOOKS.

But two years of having toddlers hanging off the doorknob in an effort to escape have taken their toll, and our front doorknob - a vintage (read: original) mortise-type lock - is kaput. So H took it all apart to take to the locksmith, and I must remain at home and guard the manor. Thank God we just restocked the moat with crocodiles...or is that just me, before I've had enough coffee?