If you wanted a one-sentence description of Brian Leaf’s book Misadventures of a Parenting Yogi you might go with something along the lines of: “Once Brian Leaf thought he had to find inner peace through yoga and silence, but then he had kids and discovered you can find inner peace if you endure enough failed bedtime routines, sleepless nights and bottom wiping.” The hope—conscious parenting—requires, he argues just as much yoga—if not more—than the yogi lifestyle from which he’d aspired to before the two small boys emerged to sprinkle generous doses of chaos and beginner’s mind upon dad and mom. And, he’d argue, that’s the terribly wonderfulness, wonderfully terribleness that is parenthood. Frustration and adoration are never far from one another on any given day.

I can’t argue that. I often tell myself when I am really “in” the thick of a day with my kids that requires my focus and attention and patience and calm and big mind and empty mind all at once that there’s yoga to this, and probably more than I’d find inside the deepest, most resonant, “Om.” I don’t think Brian Leaf wants us to argue with him. If anything, he pours on humor in order to relax readers into agreement with this general sense that everything is really going to be okay no matter how cuckoo you feel in the thick of the early days, months and even years of parenting.

Especially in a groovy little town like Northampton (where he lives; I stopped counting how many times I ran into him last week while in the middle of reading his book—cosmic!) the dads are out in baby carrying, Parents’ Center dwelling, covered in toddler paste glory. This book is for sure for them—and other dads and moms who like a little reassurance and humor. For someone who thinks hippies are aliens, it might not go over quite as well (home birth? Placenta anything? Co-sleeping?). Others, though, no matter whether they’ve taken a yoga class or not, will find this gently supportive of their plight.

I will walk into town if I possibly can today in order to run into him. You could simply read the book—or give a copy to friends in the throes (or for Father’s Day, if you do that sort of gift giving).

Speaking of books as gifts, I gave copies of The Good Mother Myth to my mothers’ group (which, as I’ve mentioned before is called MOTE for Mothers on the Edge). It was so nice to share a book of essay about something we’ve shared (the throes of parenthood) with them.

And last share, also book-related is that my friend Jennifer Taub’s book Other People’s Houses comes out this week. It’s about the financial crisis and how it happened, and she’s a law professor who studies this and you might think it’s all numbers and policy, but in fact, having read chunks over the last two years, I’m going to tell you she’s made the wonky ideas very gripping and human. It’s surely a cautionary tale for our times. Locals, you can hear her read from the book Wednesday night.