Here’s Every Type of Mom on the Upper East Side, and the Book You Should Gift Them for Mother’s Day

By Jane L. Rosen


 

Barb just moved into the city, trading the modest colonial on Long Island, where she had raised her family, for a junior four in a high-rise on Third Avenue. Everything cannot stay as it was, her divorce lawyer had pointed out on more than one occasion. He was right about that. She likes the hustle of the city and how she can eat alone at the bar of any restaurant without feeling like a loser. And now that she has a doorman, she wonders if she will ever feel the need to marry again—though her current read may be swaying her. She brings a book with her everywhere she goes.

Let it be Romantic Comedy by Curtis Sittenfeld

 

Chloe stands in front of the bulletin board outside of her son’s preschool classroom, scanning the tiny works of art. The caption on the top reads HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY, and while all the other children’s images of their mothers look like a Renoir or Manet, his looks like a Kandinsky. She worries that he will never get into Trinity, his father’s alma mater. She thinks of the fraught relationship with her own mother, and it depresses her even more.

She is reading Burst by Mary Otis

 

Danielle knows she is not dissimilar to the quintessential Upper East Side mother stereotype, but she doesn’t much care. The Gotham Salad she lunches on at Bergdorf’s depresses her. It’s been over three years since Barney’s closed, and she still misses the Fred’s Chopped Chicken version desperately. To cheer herself up, she crosses the street to Tiffany’s and tries on a few baubles. She texts her favorite to her husband’s assistant, along with a prayer emoji. Her tenth anniversary is quickly approaching. 

She is reading The Audrey Hepburn Estate by Brenda Janowitz

 

Emily kisses her kids goodbye through the back window of her black Escalade before her faithful driver shuffles them through the park to their school on the Upper West Side. She used to go along for the ride, but the truth is, she’s not a morning person. She skips Pilates class for the second time that week and climbs back into bed to watch The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City. Why is she so tired all the time? Her husband texts about calling the dry cleaner and making a dinner reservation at Bad Roman. If she has any chance of getting one, she should call right away—the lines open at 10:30 weeks in advance, and reservations are usually filled within the hour. She pretends she doesn’t see the text and rolls over to go back to sleep. She dreams of her high school boyfriend, the one she never got over. 

Small wonder she is reading Same Time Next Summer by Annabel Monaghan

 

Fiona meets her seven besties at the new T-bar for dinner to celebrate one of their birthdays. She chipped in a hundred and fourteen dollars for the YSL chained Cassandra bag and lied to her husband about it. It’s hard keeping up with these women. She had already posted her birthday wishes on Insta—and not in the stories! The caption above a picture of the two of them walking the Central Park reservoir reads: “Fully pash in love with you, birthday goddess! #ageless #bigkiss #friendsthatarefamily.” She pops a blueberry flavored Sativa gummy in her mouth before entering the restaurant, to ensure her reputation as “the fun one” remains intact.

Her book: City of Likes by Jenny Mollen

 

Greta hugs her twins Harper and Truman goodbye before jumping on the 6 train for her job in publishing. If it weren’t for the close proximity of her apartment to Hunter Elementary, arguably the best free elementary school in Manhattan, she would have moved to Brooklyn years before. She is looking forward to summer weekends when she divides her time between her parents’ home in the Berkshires and her husband’s childhood home upstate. She leaves a pair of taupe Boston Clog Birkenstocks in both locations, so she is never without.

In her Books Are Magic tote bag: Community Board by Tara Conklin

 

Going on her third year as an empty nester, Helen belongs to a book club, a museum club, The New Group, Manhattan Theater Club, and volunteers at the soup kitchen at All Souls. Still, she is unfulfilled and longs for the days of being a full-time mom. When her children announce that they can’t make it home for Mother’s Day this year, she takes to her room, threatening to never come out.

Her choice: Dava Shastri’s Last Day by Kirthana Ramisetti

 

With her Harvard education and her New England upbringing, Ivy prides herself on being an intellectual. She heads the diversity and inclusion committee at the Nightingale-Bamford School and has a flourishing psychiatric practice. She spends August in Nantucket, where she trades in her Burberry quilted jacket and Jack Rogers embroidered loafers for high-waisted shorts and striped La Ligne tops.  

She devours anything by Elin Hilderbrand and is currently reading her latest, The Five-Star Weekend

 

Jana walks to school pickup at Little Dalton, sipping her 4Ever Young Smoothie from Juice Press, still in her yoga pants from the morning. The doors burst open and Montana, her youngest offspring, runs out ahead of the others. Her Bonpoint smock dress is covered in finger paint. Or is it cake batter? She pretends not to care but hopes it’s the latter. She can’t wait for summer. 

Her Book: On Fire Island, by me—Jane L. Rosen

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Jane L. Rosen is an author and Huffington Post contributor. She lives in New York City and Fire Island with her husband and three daughters. Her newest novel, On Fire Island, publishes May 23.

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