Very, very nicely done. I admit, I was put off by the first few essays, but once we move past the baby-is-puma conceit, a perfect distillation of my own social class's neuroticism, discomfort, and love of child-rearing, and our hatred of so many of the things that go along with child-rearing, like the Infant Consumables Industrial Complex, other people, and babies. ( )

I usually avoid books that give detail to the inner workings of early motherhood, but I have a great deal of respect for Rivka Galchen and find her thoughts on most matters to be of interest.
I also had no idea a baby would be a central feature of the book when I picked it up, lured by the candy bright cover and diminutive size.
I was pleased by the brief snippets, each creating a vivid image in my head, a private and personal view into another human's thought processes.
The book is not just about the new baby, but the rhythms of life and the pulse of a creative mind.
I also enjoyed her rather wry commentary on babies. In some ways it reminded me of Lucy Knisley's recent comic page Instagram posts of her life with infant.
Happily, I know little of life with babies, but having read this little book, I feel privy to some of the everyday moments of motherhood, delivered with spare and elegant prose. ( )

Rivka Galchen is a new mom. She’s also a highly respected writer of fiction. But it is nearly impossible to think about new stories when your every moment is taken up with this new life. So she turns her hand to brief reflections, murmurings, speculations, and reconsiderations. The result is a slight but pleasantly readable collection of small labours. Galchen’s sometimes startling voice in her fiction is not fully present here. Instead she sounds much like any other mother who might be in her situation. That works for and against her observations, pushing them toward a wider universality but also toward banality. That she doesn’t quite reach either asymptote speaks volumes for her skill and thoughtfulness.

Gently recommended. ( )

Read from June 06 to 09, 2016

This is a writer's random thoughts and observations on motherhood, babies, literature, and life. I was reminded of Dept. of Speculation (fiction) and Ongoingness: The End of a Diary (nonfiction). They read like snapshots from life, as if she were your friend having a conversation but it is constantly interrupted by life's disruptions -- babies need to eat, babies need to sleep, phone calls need to be answered. However, there's no cohesiveness to this collection whereas the other two seemed to follow a thread that held them together. ( )