Rockabye
From Wild to Child
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- 45,00 kr
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- 45,00 kr
Utgivarens beskrivning
Rockabye is the lively memoir of a spontaneous young city-girl who becomes unexpectedly pregnant. That city-girl is Rebecca Woolf, who at 23, after the "holy shit, I'm pregnant" realization, decides to keep the baby, marry the boyfriend (in Vegas no less), and figure out how to wed her rock n' roll lifestyle and impending motherhood.
With humor, honesty, and renegade insight, Rebecca makes the transition from life as an odd-job doing commitment-phobic, chain-smoking, irresponsible party-girl to life as a work-at-home mother with a different kind of social life. Throughout, Rebecca doesn't relinquish the token qualities of her free-spirited, pre-baby self; rebelling against both the "soccer mom," and "young mother" stereotypes, challenging herself to grow up without outgrowing her dreams, and most importantly embracing motherhood without a map.
Rockabye explores the coming together of mother and son and their mutual coming of age. How does Rebecca adapt to motherhood? By acting on instinct and maintaining a strong sense of self, breaking rules (sometimes her own) in the process and building her own adventures out of legos and alphabet blocks.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Woolf's awkwardly puerile memoir of pregnancy and early motherhood dives between partying and feeling guilty. Stunned by the news of her pregnancy at age 23, the author, a freelance writer and native of the San Diego suburbs, was unmarried at the time, living alone with two dogs and fond of drinking and smoking all night with her friends. The pregnancy takes her and Hal, the man she's been dating for four months, by surprise: are they having this baby and should they move in with each other? Eventually they moved into the "Valley" and braced themselves for the baby, a boy, Archer. They ended up marrying in Las Vegas and growing closer despite frequent fights. When Archer was slow to crawl and to speak, the author grudgingly took him to specialists (not wanting to acknowledge he was less than perfect), and speech therapy was prescribed. Yet Woolf missed her freedom, and while she demonstrates her unconditional love for her boy, even publishing intimate letters she wrote him on the anniversary of his birth, she sheds humor on her experience ("I have agreed to put Archer in speech therapy... he should probably know some English if he plans on doing anything extraordinary for America").