I Want My Epidural Back

February 8, 2016
New York Times–bestselling author Alpert (I Love My Little A-holes; the Baby Sideburns parenting blog) continues her comic routine on the indignities of motherhood with this witty collection of anecdotes and reflections on parenting. This hilarious memoir of “mediocre” parenting in the 21st century covers everything from bribing kids with screen time to attempting crafts seen on Pinterest. Alpert affectionately refers to her two children, Zoey and Holden, as “douchenuggets.” She upends helicopter parenting in favor of a more realistic “half-assed” multitasking. Acknowledging the less glamorous side of parenting, she comically writes about the trials of potty training and planning birthday parties for six-year-olds at a “bounce house.” With titles like “And for Dinner I Gave My Kids an Eating Disorder,” and “Bedtime Is for Succcckers” she delightfully chronicles life as a “kickass mediocre parent.” She also composes lists on such topics as “Shit I do that I know I shouldn’t do,” such as letting the TV babysit, and “10 things I’m gonna say from now on when someone tries to tell me how to parent MY child.” Alpert is honest, humbling, and crass in this irreverent account on parenting. She doesn’t miss a beat, and mothers will find this playful book reassuring and endlessly funny, knowing they’re not the only ones who struggle to get their kids to wipe after going to the bathroom.

February 15, 2016
More parenting humor from the author of I Heart My Little A-Holes (2013). "I'm mediocre," writes Alpert in one of the first entries in her scattered new book on raising children. "Now you might be like, uhhh, why would you admit that? But let me tell you something: I am damn proud of being mediocre because I'm really awesome at it. And that's no easy task." Unfortunately, most of the intended comic moments fall flat. (How many times can we read a version of this Chelsea Handler-esque joke? "You would take your coffee intravenously if it were an option. And your vodka." The narrative reads as blatant, you'd-better-laugh-or-else comedy that lacks wit, grace, or narrative finesse. Then again, the book should appeal to readers who are amused by the fact that Alpert calls her children "douchenuggets" or "crotchmuffins," or that her husband "jackhammered" her while they tried to conceive their second child. The author drops a surplus of "WTF" throughout her chronicles of taking her child to school, volunteering to be a Girl Scout mom, traveling on an airplane, or discovering her two children pooped on the toilet at the same time. But if that doesn't sound funny, readers would be better off hanging out with a bunch of kids whose humor is less vulgar and easily as stupid and gross. Not all is lost for Alpert, though; she does show signs of true compassion when she talks about her feelings in regard to the Newtown mass shooting, and she makes some valid points in her letter to all grandparents. If the author dialed back the forcefulness of her endeavors and left out more of her kids' bodily functions, she might realize that she doesn't need to work so hard to get a good belly laugh out of parents. Crass, rarely entertaining comedy that pokes fun at motherhood.

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