It happens. Your best friend who once swore she’d do unnatural acts with Mick Jagger’s underwear is now encouraging her 3-month-old to gurgle to you over the phone. For anyone tired of the baby boomers’ cult of the baby, Sarah Bird’s The Mommy Club comes just in time.

Bird, a Texas humorist (The Boyfriend School) known for her sardonic style, gets off to a slightly bumpy start here by supplying her heroine, Trudy ) Herring, with too many kooky one-liners. But once Bird lets her characters relax, the novel is free to charm us with its delightful premise: Trudy, the assistant to a museum coordinator, has agreed to be artificially inseminated and bear a child for her boss, Hillary. Leaving behind her carefree existence, Trudy moves into Hillary’s San Antonio mansion. There she is subjected to nutritionally sound meals, ecologically correct baby showers, and Birth Right! prep classes. It doesn’t take her long to crave coconut candy bars and the freewheeling ways of her long-lost love, the rakish Sinclair Coker. In her search for Sinclair comes a reevaluation of what makes the ”right” environment for a child. For Trudy, that means Road Runner cartoons and Dixie Cups instead of F.A.O. Schwarz and prenatal SAT preparation. B

The Mommy Club
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