The second book by Erma Bombeck which I read was I Lost Everything in the Post-Natal Depression. By now I knew Bombeck’s writing was very dated. Moms from the 70s and 80s relished her writing, but I did not.
First off, her children are disrespectful and annoying. They take furniture and appliances with them when they go to college. They never return the family car with the right amount of gas. After reading James Dobson and Kevin Leman on parenting, coming to a book by Bombeck makes me want to whisper, “you got it all wrong, Mrs. Bombeck!” But, of course, she could not hear me anyway. Continue reading
This was the third and last book I read by Erma Bombeck. It was better than the first two but I don’t know if it’s because she is growing on me or because she actually got better in this book. It’s all a blur by now but I know I don’t want to read any more of her titles.
In this book, she mocks self-help books. I guess the self-help movement was taking flight in the 70s and 80s when she wrote and all these people in her life were trying to help her by suggesting this title and that title. Continue reading
About nine years ago, when I was becoming a mom, a friend told me about Erma Bombeck’s books as the solution to any of my future motherhood woes. My friend warned me that a sense a humor was a mother’s most important tool, if there is such a thing as a mother’s tool belt or tool box. And Bombeck was supposed to be the author who captured the humorous in the worst things about motherhood.
I don’t know why I never got around to reading Bombeck until now. Really. I don’t. I remember vaguely thinking about going to the library and checking out one of her books, but somehow I never made it that far. Continue reading