Artificially Sweetened

Does Anyone Have “Clean Little Secrets”?

I’ve always wondered about that.

When MotherTalk offered up the chance to review Tricia Ashworth and Amy Nobile’s new book Dirty Little Secrets from Otherwise Perfect Moms, I jumped.

I envisioned Dirty Little Secrets as a “break glass in case of emergency” stash of those moments that remind you that you are not the worst mom in the world – or at least that the world is full of equally awful moms.

Along those lines, I will always treasure the memory of the time that the Good Mom at Daycare – y’know the one whose kid is never in the late room with P’ito and the other sniffling snuffling why-don’t-my-parents-love-me-enough-to-pick- me-up-on-time kids – confessed that she didn’t care if her son’s teeth rotted: his bedtime bottle of milk put him to sleep. Speaking of which… any tips for eliminating said bottle of milk and/or brushing the teeth of an almost 18 month old with FANGS would be much appreciated

And is there a parent alive who hasn’t seen a child howling in the supermarket and thought: “Thank g-d that’s not my kid.” Or: Oh shit. That IS my kid. (grab bagel from bakery section and shove in kid’s mouth. Endure look of scorn on cashier’s face as she rings up a sixpack of beer a gallon of milk, a package of wipes, a frozen pizza, and a well-masticated whole wheat bagel. Hey, it’s whole wheat…)

I think of the time that my colleague confessed that she sent her daughter to daycare on days when she didn’t have to go into work just to have time to catch up on stuff at home. And how she still feels a mixture of guilt and relief about having done that: SEVENTEEN YEARS LATER. And inside me a little window opened, a little breeze blew through me – it’s not just me.

In this book, Ashworth and Nobile set out to recapture that sensation of relief for moms everywhere. They write:

“Our goal is to puncture the overblown expectations we all have of ourselves to be “perfect,” and in the process make our generation of mothers feel less guilty, less burdened, more unified, and less alone.”

The book consists of pithy confessions from Real Live Moms – one per page. They range from the amusing – “We were in the grocery store and when we hit the wine aisle, she screamed, ‘That’s Mommy’s juice!'” – to the heart-wrenching “Sometimes I think my nanny does a better job than I do.” There were plenty of confessions that had me nodding my head in agreement and a few that had me shaking my head with irritation – the more dishes my husband does, the more likely he is to “get some” later? What does that have to do with making us feel less guilty or less burdened as moms? I hate the way my husband chews? Ditto, ditto, ditto.

Some of MotherTalk’s other reviewers think this book would be too scary for first time moms. As one, I beg to differ – I think that this is exactly when you need a book like this, because you will be utterly sleep deprived and a book like this, with just a sentence or two on each page, is the perfect antidote to the 16 partially read and utterly contradictory baby books on your nightstand. Plus, early motherhood is exactly when you need to know that

a) There is No Such Thing as the Perfect Mom,
b) It’s okay not to love your child every moment of every day, and um,
c) A bedtime bottle of milk at 18 months will not rot your child’s teeth out and if it does, they’re just baby teeth, righhhht?

And that’s why I will be passing this book along at a baby shower in a few weeks. If you’d like to win a copy for yourself – or an amazon gift card – check out the contest that MotherTalk is hosting.

p.s. On the subject of secrets dirty and clean. I have not done one of the following things. Can you guess which one it is?

• Ignored stench of post-breakfast po-po in order to get out of the house and get child to daycare. Lied and told teacher that he went in the car on the way to school…
• Served the same thing for breakfast (waffles and banana) four days in a row because a) he’ll eat it, and b) it doesn’t make (too much of a) mess when thrown on the floor
• Ignored the fact that he is eating an apple dropped on the ground at the playground. By someone else.
• Told my partner: “Don’t smile at him, he’s evil.”