That Kind of Mother audiobook

Rebecca Stone desperately needs help with her newborn and Pricilla, a La Leche nurse from the hospital comes to her rescue. Pricilla, having mothering experience herself as she was a single, teen mom many years ago, leaves her job at the hospital to becomes the nanny for Rebecca’s baby. Rebecca feels close to Pricilla, confiding in her and voicing her fears, hopes and dreams while learning how to care for her child and what it means to be a mother; she looks up to her and relies on her stability and competence, and in some cases, due to the fact that Pricilla is black, she causes her to think about the world in a different way. After an unexpected turn of events, Pricilla becomes pregnant, has the baby and then is gone, and Rebecca volunteers to adopt the newborn. Rebecca feels this is the least she can do to thank Pricilla for all she has done. But there is a lot Rebecca does not know about raising a child of a different race. And she is blinded by her rose colored glasses when she looks at life. This story brings up a lot of questions and it is difficult not to pass judgement and have an opinion on Rebecca’s thoughts and actions. Is she “saving” this black baby by bringing him into a white, wealthy family, or is she doing him a disservice by not allowing him to grow up with black parents who can teach him what it means to be black in America? She doesn’t know much about being black; how to take care of black hair and skin, and she doesn’t think much about what prejudices he might face as a black man. That Kind of Mother is about the challenges of motherhood, race and how family can be created without being blood related, but it is also commentary on selfishness disguised as selflessness, lack of understanding blinded by positivity and hopefulness for the future.Rebecca’s view of her relationship with Pricilla is so much different than what I saw as a reader. She believes they are connected, the closest of friends, and she feels loyal to Pricilla because of what she has been taught about mothering and due to the support she has felt from her during the most stressful part of her life when she was responsible for her brand new baby. But my opinion is this: the relationship was one sided. Pricilla was doing a great job being a nanny, supporting the mother, teaching her how to care for her child, listening to her talk, and providing her with the time to be independent. But did Rebecca know anything about Pricilla? Her family? Her home life? Her hopes and dreams? Did she ever ask her? Rebecca may have been privileged – white, wealthy, recognized in her field, and able to provide an adopted child a financially solid home, but I believe this perceived friendship, combined with her own self centered outlook on life (regardless of race) misguided her and adopting this baby was not necessarily the best thing for him or for Rebecca’s family.To give you something more to think about, this book was written by Rumaan Alam, the son of Bangladeshi immigrants, married to a white man and raising two adopted black sons in Brooklyn, NY. Alam does a great job writing from a woman’s perspective as he explores women’s friendships, describes giving birth, breastfeeding and articulating thoughts inside the head of a woman. He also shows how families are formed in many ways and can be very different, but they all have things in common too. Parenthood is a challenge no matter who you are, and acknowledging what you don’t know can be a good thing – often it takes a village. I highly recommend this book, and particularly for bookclubs as it has so much to discuss.For all reviews and recommendations follow me on https://booknationbyjen.wordpress.com.

I read THAT KIND OF MOTHER because I was intrigued primarily by the situation the book would examine: an interracial family made by adoption, a relationship between two women across lines of race and class, and the differences between two brothers in society who are equally beloved by their mother. I was curious about the potential for drama here, and I did not expect to find myself so immersed in the mind of just one character in this web of complicated relationships. THAT KIND OF MOTHER offers exactly this: a close look at one white woman's inner life, her desires, ambitions, experience as a mother, and, most significantly, her uncertainties and blindspots. What Alam is able to render and question here about white womanhood, art making and class, intimacy and connection across gradients of difference and power, as well as our deep tendency as a culture to optimistically narrativize American progress, is profound. I read the book in under a week, engrossed by Rebecca's efforts, missteps, misinterpretations, and the way the characters around her (chiefly Cheryl) resist her version of things. This book also left me wondering about all the silences and uncertainties in the family that were not uncovered--these mysteries are yet another strength of this rich, sticky, and compelling novel.

I really oscillated between three and four stars for this one. Rebecca Stone, a white woman in the 80’s bonds with her black nursing coach, Priscilla. The women strike an odd friendship that continues for a few years until Priscilla becomes pregnant and dies in childbirth. Rebecca decides to adopt Priscilla’s son. The story is a slow exploration of the lives of Rebecca, her sons, family and Priscilla’s family for the next decade.This is a very quiet novel. Alam’s writing is incisive and often meandering. While I enjoyed the way his writing creates snapshots of the family through the years, there were times I just wanted him to hurry up and tell the story. Many times, it felt like there was no real story. The reader is just led along the lives of these characters.As expected, the novel dissects race relations, motherhood and what friendship really means. At the end of the novel, there is a sense that one never fully knows the people they love. I enjoyed this to a large extent and definitely recommend slowly reading it, patiently. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but if you like slow novels exploring the inner lives of women, this is perfect. E-arc received from publisher via edelweiss, in exchange for an honest review.

I would give this six stars if I could. Excellent writing, excellent story.

I don't know if I'll ever recover from how well Rumaan Alam writes women. He does it incredibly well in Rich and Pretty, and he does it again in That Kind of Mother. Of course, I can't relate to motherhood, but I can still relate to a lot of Rebecca and her world - sometimes in ways I don't necessarily want to admit, alas here we are. This book deals with a lot of issues, all with care and complexity. I remain a fan, and can't wait to see what comes next.

**** 1/2 Loved this book though I'm not usually one for books about motherhood. But I was drawn to this one in part because the author, Rumaan Alam, is not a woman and in part because everyone raves about his first book, Rich and Pretty. Most men don't write female characters in convincing, meaningful ways but Alam does. I've got a few small quibbles including the situation with Ian which was never mentioned again and the tension between Cheryl and Rebecca didn't play the role it could have have. And maybe that's because the story was told from Rebecca's viewpoint (in third person) and she didn't fully (at all?) understand Cheryl's frustration and, ultimately, anger. I would have liked to have seen both of these themes and storylines better developed. Alas, I am not Alam nor am I his editor. Avoiding spoilers, Ian's situation was an interesting part of the book and had the book been set in 2018 rather than the late 80s/early 90s, Christopher and Rebecca wouldn't have been at all surprised by their story (or would they?) But then the Princess Diana piece of the book wouldn't have made much sense so I'm glad it was set when it was. There is so much here for book clubs to talk about--I'm guessing this will be a popular book for clubs for several years to come.

Transracial adoption. White privilege. The bone crushing fatigue of having young children. The erasure of identity as a mother.I loved this book!

I loved this book! The writing is fantastic, each sentence its own delight. It's that rare kind of novel that entertains with every scene, while at the same time turning over serious, important issues -- in this case: motherhood, race, class, female ambition, and female friendship. Rebecca and Cheryl are wonderful, complicated characters and I find myself thinking about them -- and their babies and mistakes and desires -- long after I've finished this book. Read it!

I’m not sure what to say here — I think I saw a review that complained that not much happened in the book. This is true. There are some events that happen in between the spaces of conversations and the main character’s inner thoughts. It started out slow, and it took me a while to care enough, but once I did, I was able to appreciate what Alam is doing in this book. And I have to say that his handling of the “Well Meaning White Woman” was actually very well done and I imagine that there are people who don’t like the book because they are uncomfortable with how the WMWW makes them feel about themselves. Also, she’s a poet, which is brutal. A telling thing is how I felt at the end, with the false (but sincere) note of optimism, and knowing how painfully wrong it is. (The book is set in the mid-1980s-1999, but published in 2018, so Alam knows what he is doing there.)

Wow! This book. The author describes motherhood and postpartum with such detailed accuracy. The themes of race were, as always, 100% relevant. Rebecca and her family as the white savior and her internal processing of that and trying to relate to the black people in her life is so nuanced and fascinating. Cheryl constantly trying to educate and explain race to Rebecca is excruciating. The whole conversation about Ian being pulled over and put on the ground by the police for no reason, and Rebecca and Christopher’s struggle to believe that was so painful. It’s so impactful that this book was set from 1985-1999, published in 2018 and reading now in 2020... the last page of the book when Rebecca talks about the new millennium and how her black son and white son will be equals.... and yet here we are. I really loved this book. 9/10.

Excellent book (I like it much better than Rich and Pretty). I read this alongside Olga Grushin's Forty Rooms and found that they work really well as a pairing of looking at family, motherhood, identity, and purpose.

Rebecca gives birth to her first child and is helped through the difficult early days by Priscilla, a lactation consultant at the hospital. Rebecca feels a friendship growing and then hires Priscilla as a nanny, changing the dynamic of their developing relationship. Rebecca is white and Priscilla is black, and their differences in race, class, and life experience, along with Rebecca's many assumptions, further complicate the situation. After a tragedy strikes, the lives of Rebecca's and Priscilla's families become entwined permanently, though often uneasily. Rebecca has worried about falling short at parenting, and she finds herself in a position to prove to herself and the world that she's truly a good mother.This novel gripped me from the start with its intimate narrative voice. Throughout, I appreciated how carefully Alam depicts the nuances of each interaction between his well-drawn characters. He pokes at all the uncomfortable spots in Rebecca's unexamined privilege, and while she does learn and grow with time, there's no easy transformation. The book covers so much ground that's fascinating to explore, from broad issues like transracial adoption to more specific ones like feeling strongly connected to someone while also not knowing much about them. Alam is a great writer and portrayer of characters, and this novel offers plenty to think about and discuss.