Book Review (and Giveaway): Lost in Suburbia

lost in suburbia cover

Tracy Beckerman’s Lost in Suburbia started out as an essay in her local newspaper, then it became a nationally syndicated column, then a blog, and now…a book. Forgive me, and Tracy, for using a device that I normally can’t stand*, but this book is a good “momoir.” It’s a self-proclaimed story about how Beckerman went from a stylish TV promo producer living in Manhattan to a frumpy housewife in mom jeans in the Jersey suburbs, and somehow managed to combine the two and keep all the good parts while shedding the not-so-good.

I described this book to one of my friends as “my blog in book form,” because, if you switch out Santa Monica for New York, and the valley for New Jersey, my story is essentially the same. I once was a TV producer, and while I never considered myself particularly stylish, I certainly approached the stay-at-home-mom life and seemingly requisite surrender of my previous persona with nervous disdain. In the early years of this blog I told the tall tales of adjusting to life with less sleep, more spit-up, and the proliferation of plastic toys, while also casting a cynical eye on my peers who were doing the same thing and professing to enjoy it.

(I’m not as publicly cynical now, but ask anyone who knows me in real life and they will tell you that not much has changed in that department. I’m just more sensitive to broadcasting my criticism, which is why I save that for my much smaller audience of Facebook friends.)

Anyway, what Beckerman has done is to essentially summarize the journey of every career-woman-turned-SAHM, which is the subject of countless mom blogs that started in the early 2000’s. She does this in a way that is relatable, funny, self-deprecating (natch), and also hopeful. You see, now Beckerman’s children are almost adults, and so when you’re reading this book you know there is a happy ending. She’s also pretty darn cool, so reading the chapters in which she describes her cellulite-addled body, her mom jeans, and her bad haircut, it’s hard to take those gripes seriously. I’m sure she felt bad about herself at the time – heck, I know that feeling well – but knowing how she turned out, it’s easy to pooh-pooh that phase and say to yourself “Oh Tracy, lighten up.”

tracy beckerman

I mean, LOOK at her.

I enjoyed the bookends to Lost in Suburbia – a suburban stay-at-home mom gets pulled over by a cop. In one instance, she’s at her rock-bottom. In the other, she’s got her act together…almost. The “almost” is why you love Beckerman, all the way through the story.

Lost in Suburbia
Penguin
$15.00

I have an extra copy of Lost in Suburbia to give away here. Please leave a comment on this post telling me how your story might relate to Tracy’s between now and Monday, July 29 at 11:59 PM. A winner will be chosen at random from qualifying entries (USA only, please) and I will mail the book at my own expense.

*the device is replacing a syllable of a word with the word “mom.” Ugh. Just…ugh.

I received a free copy of Lost in Suburbia to facilitate this review. And Tracy signed it for me…after I kind of stalked her at her book release party. Swoon.

“Cuss Control” Is Like Spanx For Your Brain

The rule of thumb is to never swear at a person with the ability to break your thumb.  It’s also unwise to swear at your mother, your employer, the person you sleep with on a regular basis, and anyone who appears to be heavily armed.

The past seven years of being a parent have brought with them an epic struggle for me to stop swearing…or at least, to stop swearing so much.

Blame it on my east coast upbringing, my barely-concealed aggressive nature, or just a character flaw, but I have a pretty serious potty mouth.  It is not surprising, if you know me in person, to hear me drop an f-bomb in casual conversation.  When I worked in the entertainment industry, a foul mouth was practically a job requirement.  I fit right in.

But curses are much less funny and cool when they come out of a child’s mouth, so in an effort to clean up my language so that I could be a better role model as a parent, I actively started swearing less when I first became pregnant back in 2004.  I have had my ups and downs with this project, and I haven’t completely cleaned it up, but I have gotten better.  Still, my 7- and 5-year-old boys have been known to scream out GODDAMMIT from time to time.  I’m a work in progress.

With this effort in mind I recently read “Cuss Control:  The Complete Book on How To Curb Your Cursing.”  It’s a yellow book with the title in bright red letters.  Having this lying around, or reading it in public, led to raised eyebrows on more than one occasion, if not outright pointing and laughing.  (You know who you are.)  The book’s author, James V. O’Connor, is a public relations professional, and an old-school conservative person.  His “guide” consists mainly of reminders that your use of offensive language betrays you as uneducated, uncouth, or unhappy.  Or all three.  And his tips for getting rid of the bad words from your vocabulary boil down to one command:  relax.

Sigh.  If only it were that easy.

Through his anecdotal history of language and interviews with people who talk about swearing, O’Connor seems to simply state that cussing is a bad thing and you should stop it.  There is no bibliography and there are many lists of less-dirty synonyms for  offensive words.  O’Connor doesn’t present expert evidence in favor of or time-tested tricks for how to rid yourself of the knee-jerk swearing you rely on, or the stream of invectives you commonly spew when you are very angry.  His “suggested procedures” are all about changing your attitude and include things like “Think Positively,” “Form a Support Group,” and “Plan Ahead,” which all sound like dieting advice to me.  His tips might work for you, but I just didn’t find them useful in my own life.

I’ll admit it – that’s what I was looking for.  A manual.  A step-by-step brainwashing, in a good way.  I already agree with O’Connor that heavy swearing makes a person, especially in professional or parenting situations, look bad.  (Don’t get me wrong – plenty of my favorite writers use offensive language all the time, and I still do myself, but I have seen a pattern in the things I like to read and in how I edit my writing – swearing in writing is usually only effective if it is used wisely and sparingly.)  So I didn’t need him to convince me that I needed to change.  I just didn’t feel like he gave good enough advice about how to do it.

Still, I have found myself thinking about “Cuss Control” when I hear myself swear in conversation, and indeed when I am writing and the f-bombs pop up organically, so that I quickly move to the backspace key and take them out unless they really help to make my point.  I have noticed that when I am in public and talking to a friend, I cringe ever so slightly (or obviously) when that friend swears loudly during our conversation.  I regret it when I let a spontaneous curse word slip if I am surprised, in pain, or suddenly angry.  All of those things mean I’m moving in the right direction.  After all, the first step towards improvement is recognizing that I have a problem, right?

So maybe that is how Cuss Control really has helped.  Without effective steps I could take to solve my problem, it insinuated its judgement of my character into my subconscious, so that O’Connor has become like the angel on my shoulder, shaking his head every time I swear.  I suppose that’s better than nothing.

I received a free copy of this book to facilitate this review.