In my home, books abound. They lie in heaps and piles, seemingly scattered in every corner. Being a librarian, I find it essential to organize them by subject, even when it comes to my personal collection. Yet, there are also stacks curated by my children, featuring their favorites like the Magic Tree House series and a collection of sports titles. Books are tucked away on nightstands, bathroom shelves, under couches, and in various bags. Some have gone missing entirely, racking up overdue fines.
While I have no particular affinity for trendy shoes or expensive handbags, I am undeniably drawn to bookstores. The aroma of new books—the crisp pages and fresh ink—fills me with excitement, and yes, I confess to browsing online platforms as well (hello, Jeff Bezos!). I have built a robust home library, mindful not to cross into hoarding territory. Having weeded through library collections, I am adept at determining which books have outlived their usefulness, like the well-loved Goodnight Moon board book or guides like The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding that no longer serve my current needs.
The books lining my shelves tell the tale of my motherhood journey and reflect my present state in life. Recently, I noticed that my collection has shifted predominantly toward fiction, with parenting books becoming a rarity. Admittedly, I attempted to read The Teenage Brain but ultimately found it perplexing. It seems I have transitioned from the how-to parenting phase to immersing myself in the lives of fictional characters, seeking an escape from the realities of my own parenting journey.
The quirky characters brought to life by talented authors have been a source of comfort, reminding me that my experiences are valid. Authors like Clara Hiaasen, Jen Lancaster, and Jennifer Weiner resonate with me, often eliciting a nod of agreement as I read their works. The storytelling expertise of writers like Tartt and Doerr has made me appreciate the art of literature even more.
Over the past two decades, the books I’ve read chronicle my evolution from a young woman to a tired, sometimes overwhelmed mother. I searched for guidance in literature, often hoping to find the perfect parenting book that would resonate with my family’s needs, only to discover that such a book is elusive. Parenting literature often requires careful analysis, and I have learned that many theories simply do not fit my family dynamics.
As the years progressed, I sought wisdom, humor, and culinary skills through an ever-growing collection of cookbooks. Each phase of my motherhood journey has propelled me to dive deeper into the pages of various books for learning, encouragement, and solace.
In the early stages of love and desire for self-definition, I turned to Leo Buscaglia’s Loving Each Other and Gary Chapman’s The Five Love Languages. I learned that acts of service bring me joy, even without the need for literary validation. During my first pregnancy, I bypassed the typical What to Expect guides for Iris Krasnow’s Surrendering to Motherhood, which both frightened and inspired me.
With two little ones in diapers, my shelves were filled with board books and titles promising sleep solutions, reflecting my desire for longer stretches of sleep. As my family expanded, so did my struggles, leading me to explore titles like What Happened to My Life, Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids, and the candid reflections found in Brooke Shields’s Down Came the Rain, which bravely addressed postpartum depression.
Years later, I explored parenting philosophies through books like Bringing Up Bébé and Free-Range Kids, as I sought a less hands-on approach. My faith journey also took center stage, leading me to works by Lauren Winner and Anne Lamott, seeking spiritual nourishment during times of doubt.
As I regained my footing in parenting and life, I gravitated toward books that spoke to personal interests. Titles about cooking, writing, and even farming captured my attention. I found joy in the stories of others, from running to homesteading, and began to write about my culinary adventures, inspired by the memories that resurfaced with each recipe.
I am aware that my current obsession with fiction will eventually shift again, leading me to literature tackling themes of empty nesting, aging, and finding purpose in later years. I anticipate a future where my bookshelf remains filled with resources, as I have learned that the quest for knowledge through books is never-ending.
My experience at the library highlighted this; an elderly woman boldly asked for books on sexual positions, reminding me that learning is a lifelong journey, unbounded by age or circumstance. Whether before, during, or after motherhood, there will always be new horizons to explore through literature.
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Summary
This article reflects on the evolution of motherhood through the lens of a personal bookshelf, highlighting the journey from seeking parenting advice to exploring fiction and personal interests. It emphasizes the importance of literature in providing comfort, wisdom, and connection throughout various stages of life.