Tales from Suburbia: You Don’t Have to Be Crazy to Live Here, but It Helps
Print Length: 209 pages
Publisher: Cup of Tea Books, an imprint of PageSpring Publishing (December 1, 2014)
Brandi Haas is no domestic goddess . . . but she’ll tell you that motherhood is probably the hardest gig in the universe: “The pay is horrible, the wardrobe is pathetic, and your boss (although utterly adorable) is usually a tyrant.”
Brandi brings her trademark wit from the popular blog to this new collection, sharing stories of birthday party mayhem, mommy martyrdom, and snow shoveling majesty.
The setting is Anytown, USA, among barking dogs, picket fences, and eclectic neighbors.
Tales from Suburbia: You Don’t Have to Be Crazy to Live Here, but It Helps will make you laugh, warm your heart, and let you know you’re not alone. Mothers (and fathers) will recognize themselves, their children, and the absurd situations that family life brings to us all.
What I Thought:
This is a book that is for any woman who is a mother. Sometimes, I thought it was being written about me. I too, decided I only wanted one child and I am not a teacher yet, but I am getting my degree to become a teacher. There were many laugh-out-loud moments in this book. I really liked the chapter that was entitled We're all Carol. This chapter really hit home, in that, there are many types of mom's out there, not all mom's are the same, but mostly they all try to do their best. This book is so interesting that it just flew by. I really enjoyed reading this, it really hit home.
I received a complimentary copy of this book for my honest review.
Brandi Haas is a former high school English teacher turned stay-at-home mom. Born and raised in California, she now lives in Missouri with her husband, daughter, and their dog, The WonderMutt. She is consistently inconsistent about her weight and age because, really, it’s no one’s business anyway. She sees humor in everything and began writing stories about her life as way to share her insanity with the world.
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If there is one thing moms are good at, it is pretense.
For me, the pretense started right about the time a mom friend of mine told me her ten-month old was already potty trained. My pride got the best of me and I panicked.
“Well, my daughter isn’t potty trained yet but she has expressed interest in the presidency. Remember the other day when she wrote all over my new purse with that marker? Well, to the untrained eye that was just the reckless abandon of a toddler, but I’m pretty sure she was trying to perfect her signature for all the legislation she will be signing as president.” I finished my rambling and was really impressed because for a moment, I almost believed it.
My most recent tangle with pretense was when my daughter invited a friend over to our house for a playdate. Of course she told me at the last minute and of course I had cooked a new recipe the night before that didn’t turn out so well (okay, I burned that dinner to oblivion) which left a horrendous stench in my house. I quickly grabbed one of those fancy candles and ran around the house with it.
This time my pretense worked—that girl’s mother now completely believes that my house always smells like a fall leaf medley.