I had been wanting to read "Mother Noise" for a long time, since I'd first heard about it many months ago. I received an advanced copy recently and opened it right away, in the middle of a busy morning, thinking I would start with the first couple of essays, and then get back to work. By mid afternoon however, I was still reading, having the kind of experience I’ve been craving but haven’t had in so, so long; complete transportation. I lost track of time, of where I was sitting, forgot that I was reading words. I have felt that way just a handful of times, while reading books that felt like sustenance, like life support. This is one of those books. "Mother Noise," goes right to the deepest, most painful, most vulnerable mothering places. But just as often it goes to the most glorious ones too.
This book isn't just about parenting in the face of enormous obstacles however. It is also about the often brutal experience of being a person of tremendous sensitivity, in a world that doesn't easily make room for that. It is about being brought to your knees, over and over again, with no idea of how or if you will make it back up to standing.
By sharing her unique experience in a these hyper honest, pared down, often devastating yet exquisite essays, we see how Cindy House manages it.
Read this book. It is heart breaking. It will knock you out. It is gorgeous. It will lift you up, up, up.