Confessions of a Slacker Mom - Softcover

Mead-Ferro, Muffy

 
9781930074101: Confessions of a Slacker Mom

Inhaltsangabe

Parents who are fed up with the pressure to turn their children into star athletes, concert violinists and merit scholars all at once! finally have an alternative: the world of Slacker Moms, where kids learn to do things for themselves and parents can cut themselves some slack.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Muffy Mead-Ferro was born into a fourth-generation cattle ranching family that has been raising herefords in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, since the turn of the century. She traded her tractor for a typewriter and has been an advertising copywriter and creative director ever since. She and her husband, Michael, along with kids Belle and Joe, live in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Aus dem Klappentext

Slacker moms say "No" to parenting philosophies that undermine parents' - and kids' - ability to think for themselves. They say "Yes" to saving their money and time by opting out of the parenting competition. And they say "Hell, Yes!" to having a life of their own, knowing it makes them better parents.

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For us moms or moms-to-be in these information-awash and overachieving times, it feels as though, somehow, we've become everyone else's property. Wards of the state. Imbeciles.

We can't put a toe out of bed in the morning without feeling the pressure to buy a bunch of expensive equipment and do a whole load of nutty and frankly, inconvenient things in the interest of being a supermom and producing a superkid. We're inundated with instructions on how best to achieve these goals. And we're not supposed to question either one - the instructions or the goals.

It makes me want to put my toe right back under the covers and keep it there.

About halfway through my pregnancy with my daughter Belle, I began to balk. By then I was well acquainted with the graphic testimonials and detailed advice that this physical state invariably elicits from people. But I started to take exception to all the guidance I was getting.

An early indication that I might end up a slacker mom was a tendency toward sarcasm. "Like I need a smart baby," I muttered, when hearing about the latest device for stimulating her intellect in-vitro.

This negative attitude was accompanied by recurring fits of laziness. "When pigs fly," I thought, as I evaluated the odds of my carving out time to engage in such dreary activities as charting her fluid intake and bowel movements.

These disquieting and politically incorrect feelings increased in frequency and intensity throughout my pregnancy. Yes, kind of like labor pains. I did my best to ignore them, however. I hadn't really started to see myself as a slacker, much less feel good about the idea.

Just the opposite, in fact. While spending 60 hours a week in a love-hate relationship with the largest client at the advertising agency where I worked, I was dutifully taking all my prenatal vitamins. I d quit smoking crack altogether. Actually, I never smoked crack, but I was made to feel that dry martinis and double lattes amounted to the same thing, so I quit drinking both of them.

I was also reading all five of my pregnancy-advice books simultaneously. And, I was trying to keep up with all the expert guidance I was getting from magazines, TV shows, websites, and complete strangers standing next to me in the department store aisle. I was pregnant - the chips were down.

I was never even sure what that phrase refers to, but to me it conveyed the paranoia I felt. "The chips are down," I kept reminding myself.

In other words, do not screw up now, because there s no turning back.

But I was already feeling inadequate. For instance, I could not find the time to sit around with headphones stretched over my abdomen playing Mozart to my fetus in an effort to make her better at her multiplication tables. ...

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