When your son wakes you up at 3:00 A.M. because he wants to watch Caillou, he’s an a-hole. When your daughter outlines every corner of your living room with a purple crayon, she’s an a-hole. When your rug rats purposely decorate the kitchen ceiling with their smoothies, they’re a-holes. So it’s only natural to want to kill them sometimes. Of course you can’t because you’d go to prison, and then you’d really never get to poop alone again. Plus, there’s that whole loving them more than anything in the whole world thing. Karen Alpert is the writer of the popular blog Baby Sideburns. You may have seen some of her more viral posts like “Ten Things I Really F’ing Want for Mother’s Day,” “Daddy Sticker Chart” and “What NOT to F’ing Buy My Kids this Holiday.” Or you may know her from her Facebook page that has over 130,000 followers. I Heart My Little A-Holes is full of hilarious stories, lists, thoughts and pictures that will make you laugh so hard you’ll wish you were wearing a diaper.
Seeing as it is about a week before Mother’s Day I thought it would be quite perfunctory to read this book to get my sentimental nature in check and gain a better understanding of how some mothers TRULY feel in the early years of parenthood.
The author said it herself that this book is funny and you may pee in your pants a little. Unfortunately for me I tend to pooh a little so I may or may not have read this with no pants and as my trusted companion on the toilet for a couple weeks. I am of the feeling that rather than talk about what you or your book offers, or how you or your book should be perceived, let the person holding the position of judgment caste their own light. With that said this book was very funny, not laugh out loud funny because for me that is left reserved for home video shows with dancing dogs and the falling of the almighty teenager. This book is an incredibly honest account of the potential problems that come with pregnancy and parenthood and the possible presence of postpartum depression. The authors humour is everything I like which generally is not found in women but am pleased to find a mother that possesses a no holds barred comedic approach to non-fiction. You know how when single women refer to their love life or lack thereof they say “all the good men are taken”, well for single men they tend to think “all the bad women are taken”, and I don’t mean bad as in bad,I mean bad as in BAD!!! And you Mrs.Karen Alpert are BAD. It is refreshing to read about mothers that don’t seem like they have had a lobotomy along with the delivery of a baby, like a two for one deal sort of thing. For a while now I have been wondering if the epidural had been mixed with some sort of Paxil, serotonin, endorphin, LSD concoction that left mothers like shopping cart pushing zombies. It is reassuring to hear from a mother who while still pushing a shopping cart can still see the bad in life before going off the deep end. Like your books a steady deflation is better than one big pop.
I can’t help but shake the feeling that I was an outsider while reading this. I don’t know if it was because I have one extra appendage or not, but the author didn’t really direct her voice to include men. I guess for some men this may be some sort of horror story that either they don’t want to read about or relive, but for the uneducated this was a great learning tool. My future self sends his deepest gratitude.
On to some of the negatives with I Heart My Little A-Holes. This book is a representation of how I feel about comedic sitcoms on television. I love The Family Guy, I think it is laugh out loud funny, it’s original, quirky, smart without being overwhelming and despite the vast amount of character flaws they’re all generally very likeable. However; I also enjoy The Big Bang Theory, but if I were to watch more than two episodes in a row I would start hating it. When the same protocol is used time after time it starts to get stale. After reading this book the content is best suited to be read in small doses, I guess that’s why it worked so well as the Baby Sideburns blog. The book also reads like a blog where every entry was brought together and bound in a book. The problem was that words were overused, the author should have gone deeper into the recesses of her brain to come up with different creative terms for her bearded clam and scamps. Personally, I think I have fulfilled my lifetime quota of reading the words vajayjays and rug rats.
Overall, I enjoyed this book and would recommend it to people that would like to read an unsanitary ode to parenthood; just don’t forget to keep your wipes handy.