The plan was not to even mention my mother on the blog this Mother’s Day week. Sometimes, after a certain amount of sadness, I just don’t like being sad any more. And sometimes, if I’m going to feel sad, there is something less personal about blasting my feelings to the entire blogosphere?
But then it hit me. If I am talking about some of today’s funniest gal writers, I’d better sure as heck do it in honor of my mom. She LOVED to laugh with funny ladies. The Lucille Balls and Erma Bombecks of her generation are the Tina Feys and Mindy Kalings of mine. She would have been so proud of all these modern-day bloggers/authors/humorists who flip motherhood/womanhood on its head by poking holes through all the traditional supporting facades and laughing at them.
It was a joy, a pleasure, an escapist delight to read these books. If you are scrambling for the perfect Mother’s Day gift (read: need to create a very extensive and explicit list of appropriate gifts your husband can buy you), these books are the answer. My mother taught me well that one of the best gifts of this world is laughter. So read up, my friends, and here’s raising my e-reader to you, Mom.
I had no doubt Nicole of Moms Who Drink and Swear would be funny, but what blew me away was the gorgeous heart that she poured into every page of this book. I got 4/5 of the way through and started to tear up because I realized it was going to end soon. I told her that I was speechless, that I didn’t have proper words to describe how in awe of her I was. She suggested that I just say it exactly like that. So I am. Nicole, I’m speechless and you are such a smart, smart, witty woman with so many great things to say. Thank you for sending me a slice of normalcy.
Part of My World: Short Stories by Kim Bongiorno
Good night! I knew Kim of Let Me Start By Saying was funny (really, really funny), but dang it, this girl can write the crap out of a short story! This book is perfect for the busy gal because Kim manages to suck you into another world in the matter of a few pages. It’s pure escapism, and is purely wonderful. Kim is a truly gifted writer and I’m sitting here, waiting with bated breathe to see what she rolls out next. Watch her, readers, she is rocking the world.
Ketchup is a Vegetable: And Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves by Robin O’Bryant
Robin of Robin’s Chicks had me with the title. In fact, maybe I should have just stopped there because it was almost too much relatably awesome for me to handle. I felt like I was reading about my own life, except she somehow made it all really funny. And her stories! Listen guys, unless your post-baby bladder is somehow super-steel strong, you may want to throw a pack of Depends in your Amazon cart when you are snatching up this book. Don’t let her fool you–she is kicking at as a mom of three young girls and she is my new hero.
Motherhood Comes Naturally (and Other Vicious Lies) by Jill Smokler
Slammed it out of the ballpark. AGAIN. After falling in love with Jill’s (Scary Mommy) first book, Confessions of a Scary Mommy: An Honest and Irreverent Look at Motherhood – The Good, The Bad, and The Scary, I didn’t think it could get more incredible. But it did. The thing about Jill is that she says it exactly like it is, no holds barred. The refreshing hysterical honesty just washes over you in waves. Even if you’re on day 3 of no showers, you somehow feel a little relieved, a little rejuvenated–YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Even when you have to beg the security guard at the mall to help you find your car. By admitting the scary, Jill just makes it all so much less scary…and so darn funny.
And, ahem…I would be remiss if I didn’t take advantage of this chance to pimp the book that I’m in, I Just Want to Pee Alone. I’m so grateful to Jen of People I Want to Punch in the Throat for bringing us ladies together to celebrate all the parts of motherhood, including the ugly. I know my mother would have been laughing harder than anyone when I wrote about trying to scrub her ashes off of me in the church bathroom with crappy paper towels. Hey, if you can’t laugh over some stray cremains, what good is Mother’s Day anyway?