Author Description

There comes a moment in every parent's life when it's time to pack away the playpen, pass along the baby clothes, and sell the infant swing. You have graduated from childbearing and now you major in childrearing. You have finished having babies; now you must learn to live with children.In The Mother Side of Midnight, Teryl Zarnow, mother of three, offers her wry yet reassuring look at surviving the switch from colic to carpools and from booties to Nikes. It is a glorious time, filled with equal parts nostalgia and relief--when your last baby is potty-trained, when the family wheels no longer include a stroller, and when sleeping through the night is finally a routine occurrence and no longer cause for celebration. Then, all of a sudden you find you've changed your tune from lullabies to the lunchbox blues.Zarnow's family is outrageous but ordinary. Out of 31 possible flavors, her life is vanilla. Her husband and three children are generic--which is precisely why she writes about them: because they are like everyone else. You've seen them everywhere: the 3-year-old hangs from the highest monkey bar and then screams in panic for mommy to rescue him. After she takes him down, he climbs up again. Her five-year-old daughter is trying to decide whom she will marry; the seven-year-old is the one flapping his arms like a chicken at a rate exceeded only by his mouth as he walks into first grade. Her husband is caught between family and career, and never remembers to empty the dishwasher without being told. But marriage is improving--they're no longer forced to choose between sex and sleep.As a mother, Zarnow can be as disappointed in her children as she is by the sorry state of her thighs. Some days, she sees troubles ahead just as clearly as the crumbs on her kitchen floor. Other days, she feels blessed by the children who are hers to love. From the Tooth Fairy to homework to the Great War Over the Cherries in the Fruit Cocktail--to more serious issues such as religion, death, and the "F" word--Zarnow gives you the comforting feeling that when it comes to the joys, guilts, and frustrations (not necessarily in that order) of parenting in the post-pabulum years, you are not alone.