So I see that La Flanagan's book is reviewed in the Wall Street Journal (subscriber-only online). I begin to realize that I ought to read this book, having eagerly devoured Caitlin's work in the New Yorker and Atlantic Monthly thus far. I come to this as someone who has been fortunate/myopic/financially sacrificing/inertial/convicted/fulfilled enough to stay home with my children for the past 11 years. It is easy to judge others for their choices, so I hesitate to say that I think it is awful that Caitlin Flanagan stood in the doorway and watched her nanny tend to her little son when he was vomiting. But I do think it is sort of awful, and so does the WSJ reviewer, who thought up until this point that tending to vomiting children was common ground for "working" mothers and "stay-at-home" mothers alike.
I hereby present to you three stories about vomiting children, marriage and motherhood.
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