The End of Mommy Blogs

I like to believe that's Dr. Pepper in the bottle.

Papi had to talk me down off the ledge again last night. I was having my bimonthly emotional crisis*. This time it was brought on by reading too many good-mother blogs.

When I first stumble across these I find them inspiring. The moms take professional-quality pictures of children in clothes that they personally sewed from vintage fabric. They make healthy dinners using the organic, locally-grown produce they find at the farmer's market, which of course their children are delighted to eat. Their children eschew Pokemon in favor of Waldorf toys and have yet to watch a television program. They go on "simple living" kicks while simultaneously posting at least daily about the perfectly hip items they found that they COULD buy, because they're also somehow not teetering on the brink of financial apocalypse. They live in mint-condition midcentury houses that are featured on Cookie's blog. All of these things are so enviable, and I vow to start doing all of them.

But I can't find the time to take up so many new hobbies. I take crappy pictures with my cell phone and I never learned to sew. And I absolutely never haul my ass out of bed in time to make the farmer's market on Saturday. So I drive myself crazy over the many, many ways in which I fail to measure up.

So, ladies, as much as I admire you, we're now officially On A Break. Papi must be tired of listening to me sob about not being a good enough mother. I'm off to refine the hobbies I already have: eating, thinking about what to eat next, and making up bitchy nicknames for people who vex me. (Send in your submissions!)

I really wish Brit had a blog. UPDATE: Britney has a blog. It appears to be a vehicle written by an assistant for the purpose of advertising licensed distressed trucker hats. COMING SOON: Mamacita's Bedazzled Muumuu Shoppe.

*Do I mean twice-a-month or every-other-month? Spin the wheel.

Comments

  1. Britney - Thats not a blog thats a PR $$$$$$$$$$$ machine.

    When you find Utopia let me in on the secret......

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  2. I can sooooo relate. Thanks.

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  3. I'll admit to deleting a few blogs that seemed "too perfect" from my reader for the sake of sanity.

    But here's a little anecdote: there once was an acquaintance of mine and a blogger who seemed to have the absolute perfect life. Huge city apartment, wealthy husband, amazing antique wedding china, golden retriever and adorable baby. I was so jealous of her. Until one day, she seemed to disappear. I found out a year later that her husband left her and she had to move north to live with her parents. So sad.

    So, I guess the moral to the story is that you never know the truth behind the blog and perfection can come with a price. I'll take imperfection and a glass of wine any day.

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  4. Ha! I was just describing these people to my husband this weekend. I asked him why do these blogs always set up some glossy Christian perfect family facade, then they can't resist letting slip about that unwanted pregnancy, or the boyfriend with a pick-up and a gun rack, or their poor previous life as an abused girlfriend until they found the Lord and some right-wing misogynistic white Republican guy sweeps them off their feet and carries them to that house in the suburbs with a million pink-cheeked baptized children. Saved!

    Ladies! Maintain the masquerade! I don't wanna know your dirt--I've got enough of my own.

    *Steps off indignant soapbox*

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  5. I have stopped reading most blogs for the most part now- mommy or not. I don't know how some of those women find time to do a portion of what they write about- let alone everything!
    I can get up for the farmers market- but then we will hit the McD drive thru. I could sew his clothes- but I love my time watching "phinneas and ferb" with my boy more.
    Everyone makes choices in life. If you are happy with the ones you have made- then what does it matter what anyone else does or says?

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  6. I know your mothering -- and your kids -- and I think you're doing a fine job. These blogs are *constructed* lives, not real ones. The more courageous ones are the ones that tell it like it is.

    And this should make you feel better: http://www.dooce.com/2009/05/26/36-weeks

    However, it's bimonthly for every 2 months and semimonthly for twice a month... I'm quite disappointed -- grammar you usually school me on!

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  7. Hmmm...I know what you mean. If it makes you feel any better my house is almost always in some state of disarray, my closet a total disaster and my kids are obsessed with TV. Oh well. All in all I think we do pretty well. Would it make it better if I started sharing my days full of ass wiping and cleaning up potty training accidents?

    I agree blogs with Sara blogs are just a snippet of everyday life. No worries, we're all in the same boat!

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  8. Semimonthly does indeed mean twice a month, but bimonthly means either twice a month or once every two months. It's almost as good a word as "cleave".

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  9. I don't know too much about the mom blogs, but I have similar feelings about some playground moms I know. The type who talk about their kids poop, drive all over town attending kids soccer matches and force their children to be vegan. Like helicopters, these moms are constantly "hovering." Playdates with them are to be avoided at all costs.

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  10. Your's is one of only two blogs I read on a regular basis, so don't you dare throw in the towel and let the plastic Barbie moms win or...else!

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  11. I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL....Some of these moms are just to perfect. I have figured out that the "best" ones are the most screwed up. The bigger the "show" the bigger the problems....

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  12. Wonderful, Britney being the perfect anecdote to anything Mom'ish. Come on, what's in the bottle?

    I just discussed my horror at the Mommy blogs with my husband, and then he pointed out that I am a mom with a blog, please, no.

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  13. They don't get the produce from the farmers' market, they grow it in their organic backyard gardens in raised beds they built out of salvaged timbers.

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  14. I refuse to read mommy blogs because, well, I'm not a mommy. The end.

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