I read No Exit in my early twenties, and I remember thinking hell
might very well be other people, okay, sure, but under what
far-fetched conditions would anyone ever actually be trapped
forever in the company of strangers with no sleep or means of
escape?Then I became a parent. From Deborah Copaken Kogan, the
acclaimed author of the national bestseller Shutterbabe, comes this
edgy, insightful, and sidesplitting memoir about surviving in the
trenches of modern parenting. Kogan writes situation comedy in the
style of David Sedaris and Spalding Gray with a dash of
Erma-Bombeck-on-a-Vespa: wry, acutely observed, and often hilarious
true tales, in which the narrator is as culpable as any character.
In these eleven linked pieces, Kogan and her husband are almost
always broke while working full-time and raising three children in
New York City, one of the most expensive and competitive cities in
the world. In one episode, exhausted from a particularly difficult
childbirth, Kogan finds herself sharing a hospital room with a
foul-mouthed teen mother and her partying posse. In another, Kogan
manages to crawl her way to her own emergency appendectomy, which
inconveniently strikes the same week her infant's babysitter is
away on vacation, her adolescents are off from school, her New York
Times editor needs his edit, and the whole family catches the flu.
And in the book's capper essay, she drives twelve hours, solo, with
a screaming toddler in a rent-a-car in a futile effort to catch a
glimpse of her eldest child in his summer camp play. Yes,
Shutterbabe is all grown up and slightly worse for the wear, but
her clear-eyed vision while under fire has remained intact: You've
never read funnier war stories.
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