Friday, May 30, 2008

The Evolution of the Mommy Blogger

Fueled by this morning's third cup of tea, my brain cells are synapsing furiously, and I've come up with an insight I'd like to share with you.

If your children are too old to call you "Mommy,"1 they've reached a point in life where their focus is increasingly not on you. And yours, no doubt, has broadened a bit beyond them.

This means that if I blog--and I don't know whether you've noticed, but I do--I am a mother, and a blogger, but not a Mommy Blogger.

I am far beyond the stage of Braxton-Hicks contractions, centimeters dilated, nursing bras, play groups, potty-training, naps, Elmo, Dora, Disney Princesses, super hero pajamas, Junie B. Jones, and A Series of Unfortunate Events.2

This frees a lot of time and energy to pay attention to other issues, like high school, college, and whether I'm going to get any grandchildren out of all this.

So I am not a Mommy Blogger. I am a Housewife Blogger who is trying to become a Grandmommy Blogger. I do this by teaching my children to say "please," "thank you," and reminding them to put on their antiperspirant.

Because everyone knows that to attract the opposite sex long enough to produce offspring, you need to avoid stinking to high heaven. It's true. Case in point: Charles Darwin, father of modern biology, author of The Origin of the Species, and father of 10 children, was supposed3 to have smelled fabulous.

1 In this household it was spelled MAMY, and I have the poster paint signs to prove it.
2 Which? Those books? Were.
3 By me.


  1. I'm the vice president of that club.

  2. Can I be the sergeant at arms? When I was a Mommy, there was no such thing as blogs. Hell, the internet still called it's Mother Mommy.

  3. Yes! There are three of us! And therefore, we are the equilateral triangle of truthiness! We are here to testify! Parenting continues even when they can drive themselves to school! Yes! It happens!

    Sorry, all those exclamation points wore me out. I'm going to go get a little nip of Geritol.

  4. Okay, well your kids are only a year EACH older than mine, and I'm okay with being called a Mommy Blogger. I mean, I'll totally cut anyone who says it as AN INSULT, but otherwise I'm okay with it.

    Because I do blog about my kids.

    Because my kids are SO WEIRD.

  5. I am SO not a mommy blogger. I post about my kids, but my blog is all about ME.

  6. Is there a trick that is shared within the Housewife Bloggers Club that teaches 13 year old to boys to remember to put on antiperspirant so I may one day have grandchildren? Actually, the grandchildren would just be an added bonus. At this point, I'd be happy if I end up with three nice daughters in law. *Someone* is going to have to take care of me when I get old!

    If there is, I'll mail you my dues today. (Or do you take PayPal?) The boy just doesn't seem to realize that owning a deodorant is not sufficient. One must actually apply it. Daily.


Gentle Readers:

For the time being, I've turned off comment moderation. Please don't spam; it's not nice.

xxx, Poppy.