Avoiding and Embracing Anti-Mommy-Blogging
Are you labelled a mommy blogger because at some point, you popped out one to five children? Does the title kind of make your spine crawl a little, after having witnessed the assumptions and responses from outside the momosphere?
I mean, obviously, if you have a blog and you're a mom, you're writing about how graceful and amazing your children are as you trek them from soccer practice to ballet. You consider a healthy organic snack paramount to keeping the frowns away and you're not afraid to blog about it, right? Dreams of your little man becoming a doctor, or the next Obama, flutter across your subscriber's screens, eh?
Fat chance, if you're attending this session.
You're a mom. You blog. They aren't one and the same.
Your blog is often about you and the world you currently (and have) lived in. Not that you minimize your children's role in it - far from - but it's not a blog about them, it's carefully crafted posts about what makes (and made) you you.
There's a sub-niche of mommy bloggers that some may not be aware of. We are the writers who tell it like it is. Or was. We're about penning real accounts, thoughts and philosophies. Sometimes those are in regards to parenting, sometimes we'll throw some photos of our broods online, but the overwhelming response we often get is:
"I feel like this too and didn't know that other people did - I'm so happy you were willing to write about it."
We are not unique in mommy blogging, except for the simple fact that there's a higher probability of coming across a stray f-bomb in one of our posts.
Also, we'll probably tell you about that time we attempted suicide, ran away from home, or decided to have an abortion. And why. And before you know it, you're telling us about that time you ________.
We are real. We're women who see the line and step over it, just in case someone needs to see a friendly face on the other side. We often get email responses to posts instead of comments - not everyone's ready
to put their name on their own truth. And that's okay, too. Because we
We're not driving mini-vans with Chopin gracefully wafting out the smear-free windows, and we're not afraid to say it. Hell, some of us have Weezer replaying on our store-brand mp3 players while we wait for the bus.
But we're here, part of the crowd - even if we are a tad unrepresented.
Won't you come hang out with us?