Timely and thought-provoking, Nancy Reddy unpacks and debunks the bad ideas that have for too long defined what it means to be a "good" mom.
When Nancy Reddy had her first child she found herself suddenly confronted with the ideal of a perfect mother—a woman who was constantly available, endlessly patient, and immediately invested in her child to the exclusion of all else. Reddy had been raised by a single working mother, considered herself a feminist, and was well on her way to a PhD. Why did doing motherhood "right" feel so wrong?
For answers Reddy turned to the mid-20th century social scientists and psychologists whose work still forms the basis of so much of what we believe about parenting. It seems ludicrous to imagine modern moms taking advice from mid-century researchers, yet their bad ideas about so-called “good” motherhood have seeped pervasively into our cultural norms. In The Good Mother Myth, Reddy debunks the flawed lab studies, sloppy research, and straightforward misogyny of researchers from Harry Harlow, who claimed to have discovered love by observing monkeys in his lab, to the famous Dr. Spock, whose bestselling parenting guide included just one illustration of a father interacting with his child. Blending history of science, cultural criticism, and memoir, The Good Mother Myth pulls back the curtain on the flawed social science behind our contemporary understanding of what makes a good mom.
Nancy Reddy is the author of The Good Mother Myth. Her previous books include the poetry collections Pocket Universe and Double Jinx, a winner of the National Poetry Series. With Emily Pérez, she’s co-editor of The Long Devotion: Poets Writing Motherhood. Her essays have appeared in Slate, Poets & Writers, Romper, The Millions, and elsewhere. The recipient of grants from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts and the Sustainable Arts Foundation and a Walter E. Dakin Fellowship from the Sewanee Writers’ Conference, she teaches writing at Stockton University and writes the newsletter Write More, Be Less Careful.
Whoa, I had some really complicated feelings about this book.
I'd give the memoir portions of this book 5 stars. I loved it - it was earnest, vulnerable, and made me feel seen as a mother who has, like the author, held a sleeping baby in my arms and fantasized about my to-do list rather than just spending an hour inhaling oxytocin.
The history of attachment psychology part of this book was what dragged down the rating for me. I did not, like some reviewers, find it boring. I am a therapist by trade - I majored in psychology in college, and have a Masters degree in marriage and family therapy - so I found these sections intrinsically fascinating. Part of me, like the author, was floored by how the patriarchy has influenced research on attachment in parenting. How is it possible, for example, that in 6.5 years of higher education, did I never learn that Harlow's "cloth mother" monkeys grew up to be sociopaths due to their isolation? Or that Bowlby had such a rigid agenda? Crazy shit.
BUT!!! I had two big gripes with these parts.
The first was the way that the author equated contemporary parent support people with these historical figures. She had a section called "From Dr. Spock to Dr. Becky" that never once mentioned Dr. Becky. And let me say, I fucking LOVE Dr. Becky. Someone who is telling parents not only that their kid is "a good kid having a hard time" but also that they, themselves, are "good parents having a hard time"? Seriously, this woman's work is GOLD for anyone who's struggling. And she also came for Emily Oster, whose entire body of work is grounded in the idea that parents (again, like Dr. Becky, not just mothers) deserve access to economic research so that they can integrate it into their own value system and decide what works best for themselves, their children, and their families. I kept waiting for her to dive deeper into what her problem was with these contemporary figures, who seem to be focused on empower parents to be whole people while gaining tools and accumulating wisdom that will help them in the difficult task of parenting.
My second gripe with the history sections is a little bit more nuanced, and it has to do with the memoir sections that I loved so much. Just like Bowlby had "mommy issues" and went searching for evidence that this was the crux of all of his challenges, it felt a little bit like the author was doing a selective review of the research in a way that would make her feel better about her decision to prioritize her career. To be clear, I don't think there is ANYTHING wrong with her prioritizing her career. In addition to being a mom, I, myself, am a therapist and a writer, and I'm far too ADHD to ever just do one thing (whether that's parenting or something else). I value all of those pieces of myself. But something about the way the book was written felt a bit "thou dost protest too much".
There was a lot to love about this book, and I will continue to reference it. Its premise is good, and its review of how we got to where we are is necessary. But I felt very tangled in the above two issues as I was reading.
I do believe the author had the right intentions in the beginning, showcasing how our society views motherhood to be an innate responsibility that women enjoy so much that nothing else matters. The deep dive into patriarchy and sexism and how these men influenced this societal view is extremely important to discuss. However, after chapter after chapter of the author discrediting these studies, all while describing her own challenging experience with motherhood, which unfortunately came across as extremely negative and whiny, I began to wonder if the author was doing exactly what she accused these male psychologists of - using her unresolved trauma of her former years to influence and drive her research and therefore, this entire book.
Her answer to how to become a better mother? Utilizing your “village” to raise your child. Not only does this come across as extremely privileged (not everyone has a “village” that they can lean on), but it’s completely tone-deaf to the very real and very large problem that she mentions frequently throughout the book - her husband. He does not contribute in raising the child. The part where she mentions that if they have another child, he demands that she is more relaxed this time around - I’m sure every woman felt rage in that moment! This man is barely any better than the men she was criticizing the entire book. And instead of communicating to her husband and demanding more of him, she advises to lean on the other women around you to raise your child. The author flippantly throws in a paragraph (one paragraph! In a 220 page book) about how her husband eventually starts to contribute after she breaks down during COVID (years into having these children).
While trying to highlight the issues of sexism, the author unintentionally perpetuates this idea when she advises the reader to not demand more of the father but to continue to lean on other women to raise the child. It appears that she has some self-awareness of her anger towards men and the patriarchy to be able to criticize and disqualify previous studies but clearly not enough to have the real conversation worth having - how do we address this disparity in the home? How do we have real conversations over the mother’s needs and wants? How can we set up boundaries with our children, so they view their mother as their own person?
The author said it best in regards to Bowlby - “some men really will invent an entire academic discipline instead of going to therapy” - I recommend that the author takes her own advice.
Oh, how I wish this book had been around when I was raising my five! There are so many ways it could have helped me through. . .even though I had plenty of help from very involved grandparents. Still it is an incredibly daunting task to be a parent, especially a mother when everyone wants what your body has, does and of which there are seemingly endless expectations - so a book like The Good Mother Myth: Unlearning Our Bad Ideas About How to Be A Good Mom is a very welcome sight on this mother's bookshelf.
The ideas are fresh, and the debunking of some of that old crap is more than timely - thank you for that! Getting rid of the patronizing aspects of "experts" goes a long way in making room for real encouragements and places to seek out resources for solutions. A great tool for sorting through all the advice one gets on one of the most important jobs humans are given: to nurture another from infant to full personhood. Kudos to Nancy Reddy for her credible and much needed assistance in the task!
*A sincere thank you to Nancy Reddy, St. Martin's Press, Macmillan Audio and NetGalley for an ARC to read and review independently.* 25:52:52c
I want to give this book ALL THE STARS. As a new mom, this is exactly the book I've been looking for. So many things about motherhood so far have infuriated me. Reddy traces the history of bad ideas about motherhood and what it means to be a good mom in our society, and how a lot of those ideas are founded on pretty crappy science, often done by white male researchers who were mediocre (at best) dads and ignored the women around them who tried to give them feedback/insights on what being a parent is actually like. Woof.
There were a lot of great lines in this book that made me laugh or want to applaud (if I weren't bottle feeding my 7 month old while listening to the audiobook). Reddy also does an excellent job blending in some of her personal experiences, particularly during the newborn trenches with her first, who was a screamy, difficult to soothe baby (can relate).
Her musings about love, especially toward the end, were profound and moving. She says that we don't care for our babies because we love them, we love them because we spend so much time caring for them. And that love is something we build together, every day, through connection, failures, and repairs. I love that. It ties in perfectly with Motherbrain, that points out we don't have some mothering instinct that flips on biologically like a switch--any caregiver can learn it through practice and experience. Yes! I'm so grateful that this book exists.
Endless thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC!
Thank you NetGalley and McMillan audio for this book for my honest opinion and review.
This is a book by an angry Mom, who blames her tough time with her baby, on psychoanalysts and scientists after WWII, and is getting back at every one of them by trying to discredit them.
She is saying that they didn’t know what they were talking about, because they had bad childhood and didn’t raise children themselves.
Then she is playing the victim and crying for herself, because she thought having children is easy and being a good mom is natural, and it turned out to be hard.
Being a mom is hard, very very hard, and why would anyone think that natural means easy?
Look at the nature and all the animals and how they suffer and die to satisfy their most natural needs.
She says she researched motherhood on social media, and was duped. I don’t think social media is the right resource for this kind of research.
That makes me doubt everything she says, she is a poet, as she says herself, and nothing she says is based on her own study or scientific research. It seems like all her hypothesis is based on google and Wikipedia.
She tries to imply that the mother love myth was created after the WWII, but it’s been like this for thousands of years.
The scientists and authors she read were wrong, and the world is not fair to women and mothers, but angry attack wouldn’t fix anything.
It could be a good book about motherhood and how to make it better and easier for mothers,
but it’s a personal vendetta against the authors of the books she read.
Disclaimer: I am not a mother. I have 3 cats, and while I do consider them to be my furry little babies, I can fill their food dispenser and water fountain and leave them unattended for the weekend, so I am fully aware it’s not the same thing, and I’m not here to pretend otherwise.
I didn’t even really intend to read this book, but I had finished my current audiobook, and needed another while I did some stuff around the house, and this came up on Libby. It’s in my zone of interest (feminism, gender-based social norms, etc), and it was relatively short at around 5 or so hours. Win win!
So I listened to it, and while I found it fascinating and enraging in a lot of ways, I also feel like it missed something for me.
I identify as female, and have been raised and socialized as such. And so, like most girls of my generation (elder millennial), I fully expected that I would have kids at some point. I am very content with that not having happened, now that I’m this side of 40, but there was a time when I wanted kids, and resented my then boyfriend/now husband for “not being ready”. I was fully prepared to do it all. Work, raise the kid, take care of housework, and doctor’s appointments, and all the things that come with parenthood. I think I even told him that outright at one point, but still he hesitated. By the time he was on board, I was wavering. We did try, but honestly, not hard, and the longer it didn’t happen, the more I was fine with it. Then I was sterilized as part of medical procedures I had done a few years back, and soon will be having a hysterectomy to prevent them recurring. Again. (I SINCERELY HOPE.)
But man… What a bullet I dodged. I can only imagine what my life would have been like. I love my husband, but for far too long in our relationship I carried the bulk of the workload. Adding the full-time parental responsibilities of a kid would have probably led to my complete mental, emotional, and physical breakdown real quicklike. I know that I would not have asked him for help. We both would have naturally assumed me to be the default caregiver - as I offered and intended. And man how I would have resented it. Even knowing full well that that was the bargain.
But… could I have known? Could I really have known what I would have been taking on and promising myself to do… forever??
I identified strongly with the author on this. When she talked about the ways that SHE wanted the baby, and he was “meh”, and that she felt like she had to do it all because it was HER desire in the first place, and she couldn’t ask him to step up because of that. I completely understood - even though my situation was only a hypothetical. Had it come to pass, I would have been in exactly the same situation, with the same feelings about it.
And added to that is the mental load aspect. Knowing the baby’s sleep and feeding schedule (or whether there even IS one), and that the formula needs to be X brand because otherwise she gets gassy, or where the diapers are kept, and how to wipe properly when changing a diaper on girls vs boys, and what diaper cream is for, and how to safely bathe the baby, and what daycare they go to and on which days and when pickup and dropoff is, what medications they are on at any given time, and what the dosage is, and how to store it safely, and so on, etc etc etc… Maintaining this knowledge, and having to communicate it, is work. It’s a damn full time job. This is literally what project managers get paid to do - only their project isn’t a living human being that is completely dependent on you to not fuck up. And that responsibility usually falls to the birth parent (aka, the mother).
The thing is… parenting isn’t inherently known to birthing parents (usually women) any more than it is to the non-birthing parent (usually men). It’s just that the one who carried the pregnancy is expected to be the one to do the work of figuring it out, and the work of making it work. And if we want MORE than that, we need to figure that out and make that work too. We are socialized with that expectation. We are socialized to take the weight of the responsibility of caregiving for the household (including husbands), and men are socialized to expect to be cared for by their wives in exchange for providing financially to support them.
This is rooted in patriarchal capitalism. There’s a big push, politically, within this current Trump administration to shove women back in the tiny box of incubator and housekeeper. Reproductive rights have been stripped in many areas, which effectively traps women into motherhood, pundits and politicians keep talking about ending no-fault divorce, which would effectively trap many women in terrible marriages. Just this last week, nursing and teaching, often seen as women’s careers, are no longer considered “professional” careers when it comes to obtaining student loans, which means that fewer women will be able to obtain an education for these fields, which even further limits women’s economic resources, freedom, and opportunity. Instead, pundits and annoying talking heads advise them to go to college simply to get their “MRS” degree. If you aren’t familiar with this witticism, it’s saying go to college to meet a husband, not get an education for yourself. Cute.
I’m reading a book about James Garfield right now. (Off topic, but bear with me.) When James was 2 years old, his father died and left his wife alone to raise their 4 children. She had no money, no education, no resources. They were dirt poor, but she managed to scrape by and did everything in her power to ensure that James got an education, because she recognized that as the best way to get out of poverty and have a shot at a good life.
THIS is what those jokers want us to go back to. Relying on a man to support us, while we raise their children. And just… figure it out if something happens to them and that support dries up.
ANYWAY… This is what happens when I write reviews at 1am. Let me get back on topic for this book, and stop ranting about the patriarchy’s bullshit. *DEEP BREATH*
I found the information about the studies she talked about to be completely fascinating, and especially in the ways that they were flawed based on limited scope, lack of contextual data (post-war economy, food & housing security, etc), and sometimes even the wrong species, extracted from their normal environment and studied in a clinically controlled setting. It seems completely obvious to me that these studies would produce flawed data… but that likely didn’t matter at all to the researchers behind them, because they were only looking for the data points that would support their predetermined conclusions anyway.
Hashtag science.
She lost me a bit though when talking about Margaret Mead, and her unconventional “village” parenting style. I am fully on board with the “it takes a village” mantra, and no person can do it all on their own. We NEED strong social networks and I fully agree with creating & utilizing them whenever possible. BIPOC communities have raised kids like this forever. It’s not new when an affluent white woman does it.
But also… community support is not the ONLY solution to the pressure placed primarily on women/mothers who live in two-parent households. She completely fails to address the division or sharing of labor, of approaching parenting as a PARTNERSHIP, where BOTH parents work AND care for their kids, BOTH parents carry the mental load and know all of the litany of relevant things that may be needed, where BOTH parents do pick up and drop off, BOTH parents make doctor’s appointments and take the time off work to attend them, etc.
It took two people to make the kid (usually), why is it up to only one to do everything else forever? Considering that the premise of this book is REFUTING that, it seems like a big miss to not address it. To be fair, several times throughout the book she does refer to a gender-neutral “parent” vs “mother”, and refers to one of the studies that indicates the caregiver need not be the MOTHER, but simply any caring party. But those few mentions are a far cry from offering alternatives to the “default parent” model.
I found a lot of this book to be interesting, but needs to be taken with a big pinch of salt. Everyone’s parenting journey is different. Every person is different, and children are just small persons. Their needs and temperaments and such will vary widely, and there’s no one-size-fits-all parenting style that is “right”.
This was a fantastic and intelligent mix of memoir and cultural critique of the burdens faced and placed on mothers to be more than 'good enough.' The author shares about her postpartum struggles while trying to balance working on her PhD with motherhood and always feeling like she was never good enough. Highly relatable and filled with research based facts to balance out her personal observations. This was insightful and interesting and will speak to all those trying to balance child care with paid employment. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an early audio copy in exchange for my honest review!
This book was not what I was expecting at all. I guess I was thinking it would be kind of like, “You’re a good mom! There’s no one way to parent!” Instead, it was a bitter diatribe against researchers during the baby boom. If it weren’t for the coda at the back of the book, I’d think this woman didn’t even really enjoy motherhood. She certainly seems to believe that a career is more worthwhile, and that good mothers are the ones who prioritize themselves and careers over children. I think that’s just as much a myth as the idea that all women will be fulfilled by being stay at home mothers.
It also had conflicting ideas. She talks about what an inspiring example of mothering Margaret Mead is, and how she left her daughter for long stretches of time but with caregivers that gave her a great time, so it was the actual ideal. Then she quotes Catherine (the daughter) as saying even though she had a great childhood, she wanted her mom, who wasn’t there.
This book has no space for any woman who wants to be a SAHM or prioritizes family over career.
It’s not a bad book it’s just wasn’t for me… I would not reread this… not a fan of the writing style… was very difficult to make the effort to finish it…
Blending academia nonfiction and memoir, Nancy Reddy uses her own experiences to relay how society views motherhood and what we've gotten wrong along the way. My experience as a first time mom was met with a baby who cried a lot; allergic to egg through breastmilk, the nights before I figured out what was wrong were torture. Feeling like a failure was common and being overwhelmed moreso. Having my second and experiencing PPD, I came to realize that motherhood is a journey that many women travel but no one walks the same path. The Good Mother Myth is the type of book I wished I had.
Blending the history of baby rearing research and books, Nancy Reddy intelligently lays out a case that men can care for their infants no differently than their mothers; society just doesn't expect them to. I particularly liked her emphasis on how motherhood has been weaponized against women in the workforce by white men anytime women make headways; this is very relevant given the current state of the United States.
A relatively quick read, I finished the book in a day and really enjoyed my time with it. Insightful and will make you think, while also finding relatability to the struggles Nancy Reddy had as a mother herself.
There has been considerable discussion in society about the nature of mothering and the criteria for being a good mother. The author of this work aims to illuminate the process of mothering and the diverse experiences of mothers. Drawing from her personal journey through motherhood while navigating a PhD program, she offers a candid look at her triumphs and challenges. Alongside sharing her narrative, she delves into the psychological research on maternal interactions, referencing notable figures such as Dr. Spock and Harry Harlow. This dual approach of integrating scholarly research with personal experience provides a comprehensive exploration of the topic. For readers with a keen interest in academic research and historical data on motherhood, this book offers valuable insights. However, those less inclined towards research findings might find it less engaging.
The Good Mother Myth: Unlearning Our Bad Ideas About How To Be A Good Mom by Nancy Reddy was a book I started reading at the end of a rough parenting day.
Immediately, I was greeted by a supportive dedication, which made me feel extremely appreciated, and I loved the inclusion of international phone numbers for post-partum support! (This is the type of book I read during those early days of motherhood, and these phone numbers would have helped provide the assistance I didn't yet know I needed. If thinking back on those early days will feel slightly triggering for you, treat yourself kindly when reading this book.)
Reddy shares her own experiences as a mother, child, and grandchild, and it helped shape the narrative into a memoir-esque book while weaving academia nonfiction throughout and managing to completely escape, becoming at all preachy. It was fascinating to learn how researchers changed the "best" way to mother based on the culture of the decade, and from this knowledge, it's clear that there is no one "right" way! As this book wound down, I cried, realizing just how good a job I'm actually doing!
No matter what stage of motherhood you are in, this is an advantageous read!
Thank you NetGalley and St. Martin's Press for the complimentary copy to read and review.
The research was solid, but I felt that there was too much focus on the newborn and early toddler years. Women don't stop being mothers after their children go to kindergarten, and it would have been interesting to read about mothering myths for the older child / tween / teen years. Maybe this was not possible because the author hasn't reached those stages yet with her children or because there aren't as many pervasive myths about these later years.
If I had known this book was going to focus exclusively on the newborn/infant/toddler phases, I wouldn't have picked it up because it is no longer relevant to me - I wish the title had indicated that so I could have passed on it.
As a mother of two, The Good Mother Myth made me feel deeply seen. It beautifully captures the emotional tug-of-war that comes with motherhood—whether you’re chasing big goals or staying home full-time. Both paths are valid, both are hard, and both come with their own kind of guilt.
This book doesn’t try to define what a “good mother” is—it tears down that myth altogether. Instead, it offers honest, diverse stories that remind us we’re not alone in the struggle. It’s raw, real, and quietly reassuring. A comforting read for any mom who’s ever doubted herself.
A few lines that caught my attention:
🌸 The mother was simply whatever the baby required. In all this research, the mothers were, as one scholar put it, “the great absentees.”
🌸 “the only thing your child needs to thrive emotionally is your emotional availability and responsiveness.”
🌸 As one historian put it “an emotional workday superimposed on the mother’s physical workday.”
I understand what she was trying to do and due to that I have a hard time giving this only two stars. However, sometimes she got so into describing the research and the life stories the original point was lost. She would move on to a new subchapter without concluding the previous one resulting in a disjointed feel while also somehow reiterating the same points repeatedly.
She focused a lot on her own insecurities and I didn't always relate to them. It would have been nice if the book expanded on more aspects of the "Good Mother" myth than which affected her personally.
She talked a lot about old studies and their findings but didn't always tie back to how the findings manifest today.
She also points out how people of color and low income families were often not included or accurately represented in these studies, however she is so entrenched in research culture that her readers almost need a baseline understanding of the principles of effective research, thereby making her conclusions less accessible by people without a higher education. I often found myself thankful for my research experience and wondered how much value a layperson would get out of this book.
I think this subject needs to be talked about more and I had so hoped that this book would be it, but it wasn't.
So interesting to learn more about the science behind parenting trends and the world events that were happening when they were first floated as ideas. Also interesting to see how much Mothering advice was given by men who were not present or supportive in rearing their own children...
Highly recommend this read for any and all mother's that feels no matter what they do it's not quite enough. Have the tissues handy.
A must read for all women and mothers—challenged everything I know about attachment science and the founders—Bowlby, Harlow & Ainsworth. Loved it so much!
Just fantastic. I appreciate everything about the fresh perspective this book brings with the meticulous journey through these deeply flawed studies that somehow formed what I thought of as the ideal mother, intertwined with Reddy’s insights and anecdotes. I don’t relate to everything about Reddy but that actually made this better for me.
We are not the same but we agree, you don’t have to be swallowed into motherhood as an identity - “one way to be a mother is by really knowing your child, and allowing yourself to be really known by them”.
And that motherhood is not instinctual but meticulously learned, whether because you had the privilege of watching other moms first (not me) or had to struggle through it and make tons of mistakes and figure it out (me): “We don’t care for children because we love them, we love them because we care for them.”
And that what my kids need from me isn’t constant calm - “That’s what love really is: the daily work of connecting and falling short and making repairs.”
And maybe my favorite, looking both backwards and forwards, “motherhood is the magical, ordinary work of traveling through time together.”
If you feel like you’re confused or crashing about what makes a good parent, I really it can’t recommend this enough.
“The love that I feel for my children has changed my life. But love isn’t instant or automatic, and it doesn’t make the labor of caring for an infant easy or instinctive.”
A fascinating look at the flawed research behind ideals of motherhood tossed around today (like attachment parenting), alongside the author’s own experience of motherhood. I got really invested in the memoir side of it, because I am infinitely curious about how different women navigate becoming a mother, especially so when they have creative or academic ambitions.
Also, I had never heard of Margaret Mead before, but I had to smile when reading about how she raised her daughter in a shared home with another family - I occasionally tease my husband about wanting to buy a house with another family so we have shared childcare. 😂
“Nearly every part of parenting is learned, not innate in women or magically instilled by giving birth. Anything a stretched-thin mom is doing all on her own is something that she’s had to learn to do. So her partner can learn it, too.”
The Good Mother Myth is a look into the science and research of motherhood, as well as the authors reflections about her own journey in motherhood.
Like a lot of feminist non fiction, this book was good, but rage inducing. The fact that men wrote most of the early parenting (re: motherhood) science and literature just meant that they had an idea and ran with it, without proper research methods or actually talking AND listening to actual mothers. Reddy highlighted this over and over again in the book, with a bunch of examples of prominent “parenting experts.”
I really connected with Reddy’s own journey and at one point listened while sobbing because my own postpartum was incredibly similar. And I too didn’t seek treatment because “it’s not that bad.”
Overall, this was interesting. I did kind of want to scream at the end because the division of labour in her house didn’t seem to change until Covid and that would have been too late for me. But, to each their own.
At times, the Good Mother Myth’s retaliation against early 20th century parenting philosophies felt deeply personal on the part of the author. I hadn’t heard of Harlow or Spock, so I had no context to push against. This caused about 50% of the book to flop for me. But the other 50% told an eye-opening story of motherhood and some strong alternatives to conventional mothering.
I liked how this one started. It felt honest as the author talked about her feelings not only about motherhood, but also about the expectations and the responisibility that falls on the shoulders of the mother.
When that part was over, it then turned into a whole different book. I wasn't as engaged in that part. It just seemed like she took the opportunity to cherry pick studies to go along with her ideas....not a deal breaker, but it certainly wasn't fascinating to me. So, the first part was 4 stars and the latter was more like 2. I'll settle for 3....even though it wasn't quite there.
3.5 stars, this is a really comforting book because we're all different women and have different personalities and there is no one size fits all for maternity, and I think the biggest nugget that eased my fears (slightly) is that we should be less harsh on ourselves and accept love and help and more importantly ask for it.
The Good Mother Myth - Unlearning Our Bad Ideas About How to Be a Good Mom by Nancy Reddy is a really fun dive into mothering in the 21st century and how our knowledge of mothering, attachment, and where the concept of being a "good mother" came from. This was a book I really enjoyed reading, as it wove in pieces of Reddy's own experience as a woman and mother in academia, as well as the foundational history of maternal mental health in the lives and research by Harry Harlow, Mary Ainsworth, and John Bowlby.
I did struggle with some of the conclusions Reddy came to in her judgments towards the pioneers in the field of maternal mental health and developmental psychology. As a student of psychology and a Masters level therapist who specializes in maternal mental health, there is so much richness to be gained in reading the works of these early researchers. I felt a bit defensive in Reddy equating the personal lives of Harlow, Ainsworth, Bowlby, and Margaret Mead to their work. I don't think this is the right way to go about "debunking" what makes a good mother, as it feels like taking a low road, versus a high road supported by research. Although I agree that some of their methods may not be the most ideal in today's standards, I would also point out that most research that is foundational would not be IRB approved today - the greatest example being Stanley Milgram's experiment with obedience. Much of the criticism about the early research is based in their personal lives, which I would definitely point out was also a product of the times. Men were not as involved in childrearing in the 1950s, and we need to remember to view things through a more holistic lense than just pointing fingers and saying this is wrong because it's not up today's standards.
I definitely found myself engaged in hearing about Reddy's musings about her own experiences and comparing herself to the wives of the great researchers of the past. I think that there is, however, a lot of reading between the lines and assuming she knew how these women were feeling about putting their careers on hold. I would imagine this comes from a greater bias from the author, who has pursued her own career alongside motherhood, versus taking a step back to fully immerse herself in one role. I definitely found myself cringing at the author's idealization of Margaret Mead, a serial cheater in her marriages and a woman who hid her sexuality from her daughter, as some great pioneer and mother who could do it all. I can, of course, see the benefit in creating a community to raise your child in, but in all reality Mead was absent in regular life. Is that really what we should aspire to be like?
I do think this book may be hard to read for a certain subset of women. There is an ease at which motherhood came about for Reddy, especially in her telling of wanting a second child and essentially getting one without much strife. For many women this may not be possible, their husband/partner is not on-board and puts up a greater resistance, etc. and it can be a bit annoying to read about a woman who has been able to have a successful career and family life. If you can read this book with a grain of salt, remembering that Reddy is not a student of psychology or research, but a poet and writer, I think you will find yourself entertained!
Thank you to NetGalley, St. Martin's Press, and the author Nancy Reddy for an ARC of The Good Mother Myth in exchange for an honest review!
1. This woman needs new friends. Friends who will help remind her that she can be a good mother without being perfect. Also friends she won’t compare herself to when their parenting journeys are different from hers. 2. She does somersaults around admitting she struggled with postpartum depression with her first child, and was soooooooo unkind to herself, even writing this book years after having her children. Can we not hold our postpartum selves so gently?? She does note all the way at the end that she wishes she could tell her past self she’s doing fine, but that felt too little too late. I wanted her to weave that throughout the entire book, not just as an afterthought in the coda. 3. It is absolutely not unreasonable for your spouse to be unsure about having another kid when the first was so hard. Maybe don’t try to emotionally manipulate your husband when he’s honest with you? (But she had said she wanted more than one kid before they had any, so it’s fine to yell at him to remind him of that). 4. For someone who criticizes past mothering research done on animals instead of humans, she sure does spend a lot of time talking about and referencing studies done on… apes. 5. Oh, shocking. Your husband is capable and willing to help with everything around the house when you finally let go of the control of needing to do it all yourself. And when you ask for what you need…
Listen, I knew I wouldn’t enjoy this book pretty early on. They way the author talks about herself, her marriage and the way they split parenting responsibilities, and when she finally criticized formula feeding (which is what I had to do exclusively) - told me that she and I are very different.
I felt offended as a stay at home mother and one who absolutely chose staying home with my children while they were infants during the first 25% of this book. But then the pieces began to come together and I think the ideas laid out in this book are universally felt by mothers.
I was pleasantly surprised by how easily I immersed myself in this book. The author's experiences resonated with me, even though my motherhood journey differs slightly. It felt liberating to release some of the mom guilt we often carry.
What stood out was the author's candidness in sharing her story without sugarcoating the challenges. As I read her anecdotes, I reflected on my own similar experiences, reminding me of the complexities of being a mother.
I was also captivated by her exploration of the "mom myth" innovators—mainly men—who have shaped our understanding of motherhood. The author highlights a crucial truth: behind every male author of parenting books, there were remarkable women, and those stories were meant to be told.
Overall, this short yet insightful read illuminates not just one woman's story but also encourages all mothers to break free from societal myths and embrace their true identities. I’m grateful to NetGalley for the chance to read an early copy of this enlightening book.
Not a fan of giving this one star, as the pains of motherhood the author experienced are 100% real and valid. As well, this is an important issue to me and to solve for western society. However, the point of the book is to reverse the good mother myth and unlearn the bad habits via the author's research, analysis, and personal stories.
Ultimately, the book is quite a cacophony of to many things. It's also 80% a periphrasis of exposition of western society research, with little analysis. In addition, the author seem to be speaking with constant circumlocution about themself and continually talks derisively about what seems to be everything. In the end. the book becomes mainly filler. This results in the solution "share care" being mentioning near the end of the book, getting completely lost in a sea of words, instead of being the focus of the entire book.