Parenting Lit

What makes for a great book on parenting? A new idea about an old conundrum, concise answers to perennial questions, expert advice about a specialized realm of child-rearing, exploration of previously uncharted territory. If any of that terrain can be covered with a measure of literary grace, all the better.

MAYBE BABY: 28 Writers Tell the Truth About Skepticism, Infertility, Babylust, Childlessness, Ambivalence, and How They Made the Biggest Decision of Their Lives (HarperCollins, $24.95) is bursting with literary merit. Though a gratifying read for any parent interested in exploring the inner struggles of fellow mothers and fathers, this is no handbook. Rather, it's a forum for some wonderful writers to give their refreshingly frank, taboo-tackling take on having kids.

Or not. The book's first third is devoted to essays by adults who have decided to forgo children. Parents will pause at a few of the statistics they cite: One University of Washington study shows that couples have eight times more arguments after becoming parents. In Germany, 39 percent of educated women aren't reproducing.

The rest of the book, by writers on the fence and those who have already taken the plunge, is full of distinct pleasures and insights. They include a piece by a mother who gave birth at age 16, a formerly incarcerated would-be father battling depression and childhood demons, and Rick Moody's funny, moving piece, "Bloodthirsty Dwarves," about deciding, somewhat reluctantly, to become a father. "I hate the word 'poopy'!" he writes. "The word 'poopy' will never cross my lips!"

Edited by Salon.com's Lori Leibovich, with a foreword by the goddess of this sort of parenting book, "Operating Instructions" author Anne Lamott, this volume should appeal to parents and non-parents alike.

By contrast, WHOSE GAME IS IT ANWAY? A Guide To Helping Your Child Get the Most From Sports, Organized by Age and Stage (Houghton Mifflin; paperback, $15), by Richard D. Ginsburg and Stephen Durant with Amy Baltzell, is a clunkily written manual for taking care of the athletic side of a child's life. Though it contains some sensible tips and thoughtful observations ("prioritizing the process of playing a sport, such as paying attention to details in the moment, succeeds better than focusing on the outcome"), its contents could easily have been boiled down to a pamphlet.

The authors surely know their subject. Ginsburg and Durant are faculty members at Harvard Medical School and directors of a sport psychology program; Baltzell is an athlete who has studied sports performance.

Many parents already practice the book's three-step approach for helping a kid do well in sports: Know your child, know yourself and know your child's sports environment. Sound advice. And the authors mine a good idea when they present hypothetical dilemmas and then discuss the best way to sort them out. But too often the discussion is painfully obvious. For instance, "kids are different, and their abilities and interests change over time." As my 9-year-old might say, no duh.

Another book full of what qualifies as "no duh" advice: IT'S OK IF YOU'RE CLUELESS: And 23 More Tips for the College Bound (Viking, $12.95), by bestselling novelist Terry McMillan. Anything with McMillan's name on it will likely fly off bookstore shelves. Fortunately, this slim volume (43 pages, including illustrations) contains a measure of McMillan's signature jaunty, no-nonsense prose. She does have a wonderful way of mixing intelligence with intimacy. Reading her books can feel like hanging out with your best, smartest girlfriend, who tells you an entertaining story and then gives you a big hug. But this little book, taken from remarks she gave at her son's high school graduation, reads as though she dashed it off as an afterthought.

Does she offer any valuable advice? Well, it won't hurt anyone to breathe deeply, sit up straight and walk tall. But parts of this volume lapse into incoherence. "The only way to become a better human being is to try to be more humane." And we do that how? McMillan offers some clues in her point number 12, "Make God Proud." "Try to make sure there is goodness in everything you do," she exhorts. At least she offers some examples: "Smile at a stranger. Look people in the eye when you talk to them. And really listen when someone is talking to you." Again, not bad suggestions. But how many college-bound students don't know this already?

When it comes to uncharted territory, CONFESSIONS OF THE OTHER MOTHER: Nonbiological Lesbian Moms Tell All! (Beacon; paperback, $16) must be a first.

Like "Maybe Baby," this is an anthology of essays on a theme. The topic: navigating the waters of lesbian parenthood when you are not the parent who has given birth. What should these women even call themselves? Mom number two? Dad? A striking portion of these essays is devoted to the appellation question -- one piece, by Polly Pagenhart, is entitled "Confessions of a Lesbian Dad" -- but it quickly becomes clear that the preoccupation with labels is a front for deeper questions of identity and gender roles.

Some of the struggles in the book are poignant, such as the woman caught in a Kafkaesque hospital limbo after her partner bears their daughter. She's not allowed in the neonatal intensive care unit because she's not biologically related to the baby, and she can't go back in and see her partner because they are not legally related either. "Is this what it will always be like, I wonder" writes the author, Hillary Goodridge, "trapped in some linoleum purgatory, suspended animation, unable to touch either member of my family?"

Heart-rending tales aside, how will these sons and daughters negotiate a world that is still not all that accustomed to children with same-sex parents? Maybe editor Harlyn Aizley should plan a sequel to this pioneering volume.

THE WORKING GAL'S GUIDE TO BABYVILLE: Your Must-Have Manual for Life with Baby (Da Capo; paperback, $14.95), by Paige Hobey with Allison Nied, is trying to be the guidebook new mothers can't live without. Full of advice about everything from breastfeeding to negotiating a flextime position at work, it's packed with anecdotes, tips and worksheets, including a three-page "life-with-baby budget calculator," with space to estimate the costs of plastic infant bathtubs and nursing pillows.

New mothers will find much of this information useful, especially the chapters on babies' feeding and sleeping habits. Addressing the prolonged controversy about whether infants should share the family bed, Hobey comes down against co-sleeping. Other sections are less enlightening. Like the brief, obvious page and a half on starting your own business. "You should be able to afford a serious income loss while you're ramping up." No kidding.

Hobey's style is breezy, which is a relief from the preachy, scolding tone of older-school parenting authors such as Penelope Leach and the "What to Expect" writers. But she strikes some odd notes, such as repeatedly referring to June Cleaver, as in her chapter about staying home, "June Cleaver Be Damned." Advances in reproductive technology aside, moms old enough to remember that show (it went off the air in 1963) are more likely to be in the market for "The Working Gal's Guide to Menopause."

Susan Adams is an editor at Forbes magazine in New York.