Sarah Gilbert is a former investment banker, Wharton MBA, and mama of three young boys. She keeps her finger on the pulse of hundreds of like-minded mamas through social media and reports on the mood of the biggest consumer group out there: Moms.

It was the middle of the night when I first heard the news about melamine-tainted powdered milk sickening and killing Chinese babies. I was up with my youngest, who was teething, and listening to BBC. As the night wore on, it seemed that the numbers kept growing. Many, too many. Outrageously many. I comforted myself, remembering that those thousands who were sick may be mildly ill, in a contamination situation even similar-seeming symptoms are blamed for the poison. But this is China, not noted for its transparency. Maybe the numbers were far higher. I shuddered, clenched my teeth, glad my baby never had powdered milk, glad I didn't live in China, sad for all those who were tossing and turning with a fatal fright.

Today's news that White Rabbit Creamy Candies, a popular Chinese candy sold in Asian markets in the U.S., were tainted with unacceptably high levels of melamine was not surprising. Why should candy be any more carefully screened than babies' milk? But it was devastating to millions of moms. It's hard enough for us to trust corporations with our kids' health; after all, the past 50 years hasn't exactly been award-winning. Sky-rocketing obesity rates. Enormous rises in childhood diabetes and heart disease. The as-yet un-attributed upswing in autism. Someone's to blame.

Being in the constant presence of three very little boys (five years, two years, and three months old), and spending a huge portion of my spare time obsessing over mommy media, I have read a lot of articles along the lines of Leslie Bennett's new The Feminine Mistake. You take your working mom, you compare her to a highly-educated stay-at-home. You worry about how the at-home mom is losing her identity, her control over her finances, her ability to escape the relationship should it not end happily ever after. You wonder if the working mom is ignoring the loving care of her children, the fund raising development of her PTA, the feeding of the home fires.

Moms are (Bennett and so many others argue) giving up their right to membership in Future Highly-Paid Executives of America if they stay at home. And most importantly: they'll give up their fat retirement fund. What should happen if daddy dearest leaves you for his secretary, PR professional, Donna Karan-clad boss? It's social security and a mother-in-law apartment for you.

I work from home, neatly placing myself right on the divide in this debate. I can't side with the at-home moms; I do have adults to interact with on issues of importance all day long, and besides, I don't have time to side with them. I can't align myself with the working moms; after all, I do get to spend time with my kids all day, I pick up from school, I am far too familiar with the intricacies of the Berenstain Bears series. And I don't have time to go out to lunch with them.

There's only one problem with Bennett's argument: it only makes sense if it's masculine, too. Is there a "Masculine Mistake" for dads who stay home?

Even though I have an "Alpha Mom" t-shirt, I'm afraid I really fall into the "Slacker Mom" (or "Beta Mom") camp. Do I want what's best for my children? Sure, but I'm not going to give up my career or my sanity to get it. I'll admit it: I let my kids see my cry, and sometimes when I'm in a particularly awful mood I put a DVD on "repeat," lock myself in the bathroom and take a good, lonely soak. While my girlfriends from business school and even my buddy Isabel Kallman (who runs the Alpha Mom network) were taking their three-year-olds to soccer practice and playdates and swimming lessons, I was discovering that I really didn't like singing "The Wheels on the Bus" and trying to convince my own three-year-old that he should go to bed before midnight.

According to the USA Today, "There's a backlash brewing ... an anti-Alpha movement is taking hold. Those moms have it together sometimes. They may forget to send back permission slips or lose track of their turn for team snacks ... Some, including former CBS TV news anchor René Syler, have written books advising the Alphas to lighten up." Whenever I see an article starting out with the "backlash" concept, I have to admit, my first reaction is to backlash myself. Not against those perfect moms that I observe, with wonder, from afar (and, yes, sometimes wish weren't quite so perfect). But against the media who's so obviously taking advantage of a couple of marquis moms to brew a controversy that will sell books ... but may not actually reflect the realities of mothering.

The article calls the Alpha Mom a "marketing creation," while in the same breath pitting her against the moms who just don't have it quite so together, who (according to their book titles) let their children run with scissors, and embrace their perfect imperfection.

Like any other media-created divide, it's a fiction, but I can't fault the fiction for having ill will. These Slacker Moms have a kind-and-gentler message: that how a child turns out isn't entirely his mom's fault -- and it certainly won't make a lasting difference if mama forgets to buy candles for his birthday cake or sends him to playgroup with a storebought snack.

If media is going to embrace the not-so-Alpha Moms, I say, hear hear! Up with the Slackers! Here's to moms who don't apologize for neglecting the goodie bags, who accept their inability to sit through Music Together class, who let their kids watch SpongeBob and who don't sweat it if little Braden can't kick a soccer ball to save his life. Here's to discovering the wonder in a piece of trash your two-year-old picks up; here's to enjoying your five-year-old's astonishing tricks with his toy shotgun.

Whoever you are, Alpha, Slacker or in between, here's to holding the awesome task of being nurturer, protector, kisser-of-tears in your hands and not letting go.

I love labels. I especially love labels when they're devised by 'savvy' marketing analysts or pollsters. And the newest target for the corporate marketing dollar? 'Yoga Moms.'

I love this one particularly, not least because I'm totally a Yoga Mama (I prefer the "mama" moniker to "mom," as do most Yoga Mamas; you all may want to make a note of this). In fact, I registered the domain "spa mama.com" years ago and still receive email to some variant of "zen@" said dotcom. And yes, I do a lot of yoga. Yoga Mamas are said to be very particular about eating organic and feeding it to their kids; buying natural products; and we'll pay top dollar for it.

Whoa! Hold on. Maybe I'm not a Yoga Mama after all. Or maybe y'all have it wrong (still taking notes?) In fact, in my market analysis (done among my friends, many of whom I met at prenatal yoga, or at new mama knitting circles, or at the organic foods market, or as kindred spirits on some mama-centric web site), Yoga Mamas aren't willing to pay top dollar for anything organic or natural; in fact, our choices are much more shrewd than that.

My friends are, in fact, always talking about how they're on a budget, or they don't have money for this luxury or that luxury. Most of us don't spend much on our own clothes, for instance, and we're savvy resale shoppers -- often picking up expensive labels, to be sure, but for a fraction of the retail price. While we'll occasionally splurge on treats for ourselves (heck, someone's keeping those manicurists in business, and we love a good glass of Pinot Noir) we're also fanatic 'unit price' comparers and we won't go back to a place that doesn't fit in with a raft of values, from "respectful" to "green" to "treats its employees well." None of us shop at Wal-Mart Stores, Inc. (NYSE:WMT). All of us shop at Trader Joe's.