Drop Slot Reviews: A non-mom reads Mom Lit

By Susan Gartner

Even though I’m a member of a small (but growing) population to deliberately and conscientiously opt out of parenting, I can still appreciate the phenomenally difficult work that parenting truly is. I see the immense responsibility all around me – with friends, family members, even total strangers. In fact, that’s one of the reasons why I opted out. From a young age, parenting looked so difficult to me (and so randomly successful) that I didn’t believe I had the “right stuff” to get the job done well enough to the satisfaction of all parties involved. There was the concern that I might actually have the “right stuff” but that I would need to find an equally “right stuff”-equipped partner. Then there was the concern that collectively, he and I would have the “right stuff” but that there was a universe of factors outside of our control that would be working against our best intentions.

Basically, it looked like a crapshoot with very bad odds.

Working as a circulation clerk at the Downers Grove Public Library in Downers Grove, IL, I had the opportunity to witness all kinds of parenting scenarios played out right in front of the circulation desk. Some parent-child battles were quite horrific to watch. In other situations, however, the parent handled the child in such a tender and considered manner that it took my breath away. In these rare instances, I was compelled to get up from my post, quietly approach the parent (typically a mother), bend down beside her, put my arm around her, and thank her for taking the parenting role seriously. The response was chillingly similar: we would both start to cry. One woman, after composing herself, said, “No one has ever said that to me before. Thank you.”

Back in my twenties and thirties, when my eggs were young and vibrant and ready to roll, my decision was a whole lot more controversial than it is today. I was on a speaking circuit and went around to various schools to speak to young people about parenting being an option and the validity of choosing not to parent. I caught a lot of flak for my position. In the conservative suburbs, I was perceived as a nut-job, or at the very least, a lesbian. Both carried equal weight. For several years, I took my then-boyfriend around with me so he could give students the benefit of a male perspective. We each expressed different reasons for our decision. Together, we probably covered all the reasons imaginable. While a majority of the students looked at us in horror, viewing our position as something not only alien and incomprehensible but freakishly sinister and selfish, there were always one or two students in the classroom who were sitting upright in their chair, eyes riveted on our presentation, absorbing every word and smiling softly.

Recently, I stumbled on a number of books that made me think back on my reasons for not having children and the expected and unexpected repercussions of that decision. I shouldn’t have been so surprised to discover a whole reading genre that I didn’t know existed.

According to chicklitbooks.com, Mom Lit is “a sub-genre of Chick Lit dedicated to books about motherhood, pregnancy, child-rearing, and all the insanity and goodness that comes along with those things.”

I expected to see books like What to Expect the First Year and Breastfeeding for New Mothers. But this was something entirely different – a right-between-the-eyes honest portrayal of parenting and the real-world impact on marriage, sex, friendships, career, and personal identity with snappy titles like Naptime Is the New Happy Hour, Sippy Cups Are Not for Chardonnay, and Daddy Needs A Drink.

The alcohol theme isn’t lost on me.

The two books I enjoyed reading are Mommies Who Drink: Sex, Drugs, and Other Distant Memories of an Ordinary Mom by Brett Paesel and I Was a Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids by Trisha Ashworth and Amy Nobile. The honesty of the mothers interviewed is eye-opening, refreshing, and actually emboldening.

It’s hard to say what would have happened if these books had been available back in the ’80s and ’90s – my most important baby-making years. My guess is that my childfree decision would have remained constant but maybe I would have taken these books along with me on the speaking circuit as a show of support to those who were going to need it.

To conscientious parents everywhere: Thank you for taking the parenting role seriously. Your efforts are not in vain.


Editor's note: Reader reviews of materials available at or through the Yellow Springs Library are encouraged and appreciated.