As a new mom to a spirited three-year-old girl, I picked up Parenting Unplugged on a particularly long day, the kind that starts with a toddler tantrum and ends with reheated coffee and unfinished emails. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but a few pages in, I found myself smiling, nodding, and thinking, this woman gets it.
Lalitha’s writing has that quality of feeling deeply personal yet universally relatable. She doesn’t sugarcoat the chaos of parenting; she dives right into it, the guilt, the exhaustion, the laughter, and those fleeting moments of wonder that make it all worthwhile. Her words are tender, witty, and wonderfully real. It’s as if she’s whispering truths, you’ve always felt but never had time to articulate. Or think what’s the big deal?
Her writing style is conversational and crisp, with a rhythm that swings effortlessly between humour and emotion. One minute, you’re laughing at her hilarious observations about toddler logic, and the next, you’re wiping away a tear at a raw, honest reflection on motherhood’s invisible weight.
I loved the quirky and clever chapter titles. Waking Up to the World, Woke and Wise, Dramatically Speaking, A Mama’s Confession and others. Each one clever and evocative, setting the tone for stories that follow with both sparkle and substance.
As a working mother, many of Lalitha’s stories hit close to home. I’ve been that mom pumping milk between conference calls, huddled awkwardly in toilets, praying no one knocks on the door. I’ve battled the guilt of leaving my feverish daughter behind because an “important meeting” couldn’t be missed. Lalitha captures those very struggles with warmth and humour, never judging, never preaching, just holding space for every messy, beautiful contradiction of being a parent.
Her reflections on juggling ambition and affection, or the mental gymnastics involved in finding reliable childcare, feel especially close to home. Whether in Singapore or India, finding a good helper feels like winning the lottery, rare, unpredictable, and occasionally miraculous. I recollected my struggles with a nanny who vanished after the third month.
By the time I finished Parenting Unplugged, I felt seen, comforted, and oddly reassured. This isn’t a parenting manual; it’s a mirror, one that reflects back our chaos, courage, and love in all their imperfect glory. Lalitha’s voice stays with you long after the last page, warm, funny, and quietly wise.
Because I totally agree with Lalitha, we parents will make this imperfect world a little more perfect, one quirky parenting anecdote at a time.
Pick this up, today!