Updated: December 18, 2015
Originally Published: July 25, 2013
My home is overflowing with books—piled high in every corner, creating a chaotic yet comforting atmosphere. As a librarian, I can’t help but organize most of them by subject, though my kids have their own favorite arrangements. From the sports section to the Magic Tree House series, and a collection of Kurt Vonnegut novels that seem to reflect their teenage quest for identity, my shelves paint a vivid picture of our family life. Books find their way onto nightstands, bathroom counters, under couches, and in the backseat of the car—some even tucked away in beach bags and long-overdue backpacks.
While I have little interest in trendy footwear, luxurious handbags, or high-end cosmetics, I do find myself weak at the knees in bookstores, intoxicated by the scent of paper and ink. I have a respectable home library, but I’m no hoarder; I’m adept at paring down collections and know when a book has seen better days or when it’s time to pass a title along to another reader.
Upon closer inspection, the books on my shelves tell a rich story about my journey through motherhood and reflect my current state of life. Recently, I realized my stacks are filled predominantly with fiction, and parenting guides have all but disappeared. (Okay, I did attempt to read The Teenage Brain, but some mysteries are just too complex to unravel.) It seems I’ve crossed the threshold of parenting manuals and now prefer to immerse myself in the lives of fictional characters, enjoying a much-needed escape from the realities of my own experience.
Some of the quirky characters I’ve encountered in my recent reads—thanks to remarkable authors—have given me a sense of relief. A heartfelt shoutout to Carl Hiaasen for making me feel like a perfectly normal person in Florida! My fiction favorites—like Jenna Harrington, Emily Gold, and Rachel Meyers—always resonate with me. Thank you for understanding my struggles! And to the literary geniuses like the Tartts and Doerrs—kudos to your educators!
The books that have occupied my shelves over the past two decades could narrate the tale of a young woman who transformed into an exhausted, uncertain mother, desperately seeking the right parenting advice. What I’ve realized is that the perfect parenting book doesn’t exist. It’s hard work to sift through theories that rarely apply to my family’s unique dynamics.
As the years passed, my focus shifted from seeking parenting wisdom to craving humor and wisdom in other areas of life. I even became a pretty good cook, thanks to my ever-growing collection of cookbooks. All the different phases of my mothering journey and the life seasons ahead will continue to draw me into the pages of various books—for knowledge, encouragement, support, and the occasional challenge.
In my early days, before love found me, I turned to Leo Buscaglia’s Loving Each Other and Gary Chapman’s The Five Love Languages, though I didn’t really need a book to tell me that a helping hand at home makes me happy. Then came the first stirrings of pregnancy that led me not to the What to Expect series, but to Iris Krasnow’s Surrendering to Motherhood, which both terrified and fascinated me before I ever held my baby. What would I be giving up? Oh, just about everything.
Early parenting days with two little ones in diapers filled my shelves with board books that bore the marks of teething, as well as titles like Sleep Solutions and Solve Your Child’s Sleep Problems. I quickly learned I preferred parenting during daylight hours and that my desire for a solid block of sleep only heightened my tolerance for letting them cry it out.
With the arrival of baby No. 3 and 4, combined with a challenging bout of postpartum depression, I found myself in uncharted territory. Books like What Happened to My Life, Unglued, and Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids helped me navigate this difficult time. Brooke Shields’s Down Came the Rain was especially impactful, as she bravely shared her experiences with PPD, helping to destigmatize it. And thank you, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, for Gift From the Sea—you would have made a fantastic neighbor.
A few years later, I ventured into the realm of alternative parenting books, devouring titles like Bringing Up Bébé (I was also in the midst of a fantasy to escape to Paris), Free-Range Kids, and Duct Tape Parenting. I was ready to step away from helicopter parenting; honestly, I was just exhausted and embraced the idea that sometimes less is more.
In the midst of my parenting struggles, I found myself spiritually bankrupt. I sought solace in Lauren Winner’s Girl Meets God, Anne Lamott’s Traveling Mercies, and even C.S. Lewis and Mitch Albom. Books have always nourished my soul.
Now, feeling more secure in my parenting and with emotional layers shed, it was time to reclaim my personal interests. I dove into books solely for pleasure—titles that inspired me to write, raise chickens, knit, and bake. The culinary world beckoned, and I devoured cookbooks as if I were a culinary student. I discovered the joys of running through the insightful series for “mother runners,” and even had a piece published in Tales From Another Mother Runner, which is a testament to the wonderful community of creative individuals out there.
As I reflect on my current literary journey, I know that one day, my fiction phase will give way to books on navigating an empty nest, embracing menopause, and finding joy in retirement. There will be literature on rediscovering passion and coping with the loss of loved ones. However, there will never come a day when my shelves are devoid of books or when I stop learning.
I recall a memorable encounter from my days at the library when an elderly woman approached me, brimming with confidence, asking for books on sexual positions—proving that we never truly outgrow our thirst for knowledge.
So there you have it, fellow book lovers. Life is a continuous journey of learning through literature—before motherhood, during it, and certainly beyond. Isn’t that an exhilarating prophecy?
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Summary:
This article explores the author’s literary journey through motherhood, reflecting on how her evolving interests in books mirror her experiences as a parent. From parenting guides to fiction, the author shares how literature has provided comfort, knowledge, and inspiration throughout various stages of motherhood. The narrative emphasizes the importance of continuous learning and personal growth through reading.
Keyphrase: A Literary Exploration of Motherhood
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