Momzillas took Mia, a Californian native, and plopped her in New York proper where she struggled to fit into the stroller scene. As chick lit books set in New York City go, this was a very superficial and light read. The bulk of the plot was the drama associated with the admissions of tiny tots into prestigious kindergartens.
Mia moved to the city when her husband got a better job, but his new career had him working excessively long hours and taking trips abroad for days at a time. That left her and their toddler alone in the city. That loneliness was heightened when she didn’t fit in with the other momzillas. The moms of the kids around Mia were obsessed with their children using the right doctor, having the right clothes, and acting more like adults than tots.
A side plot was that Mia’s loneliness pushed her to reconnect with a former professor. Mia was thrilled when the professor was interested in seeing her socially because she previously had a crush on him. The two began visiting museums together, and slowly a flirtatious relationship developed. That bond tested Mia’s marriage and the drama became fodder for another bored housewife who loved to create trouble for others. Aside from that one mean woman, I didn’t even think the women in this novel earned the name momzilla. Sure, they were obsessed with their children, but they weren’t any more ridiculous or mean than other New York women have been made out to be in a variety of novels set in this city.
Mia was a fine character, but wasn’t someone who I particularly liked. I wasn’t all that empathetic to her. Even though she was left alone, her husband was making their family tons of money and she lived a very nice life, one in which she didn’t need to work. Also, there was no real plot here.
I recently read Small Admissions and this was very similar in that it delved into the ridiculous process of applications, wait lists, and interviews for four-year-olds. Truthfully, I am now done with this same story line. It is only mildly entertaining and just too repetitive.