loaning out my brain
it’s clicking, whirring away
I am reviewing a book today! This review is part of a blog book tour facilitated by MotherTalk.com (which I always want to call mothertalker.com because that’s just how I am).
Reading Naptime is the New Happy Hour by Stefanie Wilder-Taylor reminds me of getting to know that cool girl you stalked during high school. She seemed so nonchalant and awesome, listening to her New Wave music and not giving a shit about the actual "cool" kids. She had her own style and her own way of doing things. Soon, you couldn’t believe your luck – you were part of her little ecosystem of non-conformist friends. And then, after a while, you realized that maybe she wasn’t as original and awesome as you thought. Her jokes were a little repetitive, she secretly worried a little too much about what the freaks thought of her. And your idealistic view of her crumbled just a little. Eventually, all was well, though. You began to feel affection for her repeated stories, you empathized with her struggle to be different and yet not completely out of the ordinary. You were friends. And friends aren’t perfect.
That right there was a crazy ass long way for me to describe how I felt reading this book. At first – loved it! It was funny and true. "I try to think of my child as a pint-sized foreign exchange student: she barely speaks the language and everything in this country is pretty much new to her."
But then, as I moved through the essays I began to realize that, for the most part, the jokes were all the same (lots of drinking jokes, which I know, duh, read the title, but still. It’s funny at first and then it’s like yeah, yeah, I wish I had a standing order for Versed, too, let’s move on).
And every now and then the "let’s not judge" tone got a little judgey (really, though, this is unavoidable, and at least it’s done in a funny way. I totally hate the moms at the park in skinny jeans with ironed hair, too).
By the end of the book, though, I enjoyed it for what it was – a funny, non-glossed-over, compilation of anecdotes (and quasi-advice) about life with a toddler. Maybe there are too many exclamation points. Maybe the drinking references get a little tiresome. But all-in-all, the mixture of "holy shit can you BELIEVE how psycho toddlers are?" with "Here’s what I did to maintain my sanity with my psycho toddler" is a handy blend of fun and empathy.
The cool girl is still cool, even when she drives you a little crazy after a while.
Much like your toddler.