Sick People get on my Nerves. Now, before you go all batshit crazy on me for making such an outlandish and insensitive remark right at the holidays. Let me explain. (more…)
Tag: Parenting
Parenting Techniques, Blanket Statements and Blow Ups
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akanemd Parenting Techniques are like assholes..everyone has one! (more…)
Throat Punch Thursday~ Miley Cyrus: Don’t Call Me Fat! Edition
Miley Cyrus is NOT Fat
Miley Cyrus: Don’t Call Me Fat! ~ Seriously, what in the world is wrong with people? Miley Cyrus is not fat. She looks like a healthy young woman. Healthy and woman being the operative words. Hollywood is so used to seeing the Miley Cyrus and Demi Lovato girls of the world running around like starved waifs that when they see them with a curvy figure they cry FAT! The Miley Cyrus: Don’t call me Fat! article that is seemingly everywhere is has onlookers split down the middle. There are actually people in the world who think because she is not shaped like a 12 year old boy anymore, she must be fat. This is hurtful gossip at its worst for entertainment value. Shame on you trolls for taking cheap shots and mocking the Marilyn Monroes of the world. If we collectively think that healthy is fat, maybe we are the ones who should seek some help.
Miley Cyrus is Beautiful & Healthy Looking
Why do we have to make a strong young woman feel less than enough when she has had the good fortune and upbringing to know that her self-worth does not come from the size of her jeans. Are we jealous? I love that Miley Cyrus, spunky and sassy as ever, shot back almost immediately by declaring a public Twitter war on those who insulted her. Miley Cyrus tweeted to her three million plus followers, “By calling girls like me fat this is what you’re doing to other people.” Her tweet was accompanied by a picture of an emaciated woman.
This is the Photo that Miley Cyrus Tweeted
Of course if the above photo is what one identifies with as chic and thin then they may want to seek some mental health themselves. I used to think the image above was a good size and that the Marilyn Monroes of the world were fat. Then again, I have a diagnosis of Body dysmorphic disorder and anorexia/bulima on my books. Even I know that this above photo is too thin. Miley was right to be hurt and insulted. Miley went on to criticize her critics, writing, “I love MYSELF & if you could say the same you wouldn’t be sitting on your computer trying to hurt others.”
To drive the point home, Miley Cyrus posted a picture of Marilyn Monroe with the caption, “Proof that you can be adored by thousands of men, even when your thighs touch.” Damn, I wish I had this girls self-confidence!
Soon, Miley’s friend and fellow pop star Demi Lovato joined in on Twitter tweeting back, “I love you, whoever called you that has it coming.” Lovato recently got out of rehab, which she entered in part due to body image issues. Demi Lovato had to defend her post-rehab weight gain back in August, as well.
Miley responded :
@ddlovato AMEN! I will destroy any one that ever calls you the F word. You have the SEXIIIESTTTT curvyyyy body! I LOVE IT!#werkthosecurvesCyrus wasn’t backing down. She tweeted again, “I LOVE being shaped like a WOMAN & trust me ladies your man won’t mind either.” Indeed, young master. I really wish I had her confidence and felt that comfortable with my body. This is a great message to send to women everywhere. Men don’t want girls who are shaped like little boys, unless they are Jerry Sandusky…then maybe.
Amen! I commend these young girls for having the fortitude to stand up to Hollywood’s image of what beauty is and for speaking up in defense for healthy young women everywhere. You are not fat. You are beautiful, healthy and hopefully happy. If we could just get the rest of the world to understand what you already know, our self worth is not determined by the size of our jeans. Throat punch to all the asshats who think it’s okay to make a running commentary on someone else’s body. Whether you are being a lecherous pervert or a jerky hater, keep your comments on other peoples sizes and shapes to yourself. They have mirrors in their house and they are perfectly aware of any and all flaws that you might feel is your duty to point out. Know this, they know they are there. No one needs your jokes or opinions. Miley Cyrus you impress me with your big, giant self-confidence!
Catholic School Girl Gone Nun
Catholic school girl gone Nun~ Is this something that I should be concerned with? I enrolled my little girls in Catholic school because 1) we are Catholic and I loved the spiritual aspect of it 2) I believe faith is instilled not learned 3) the test scores are substantially higher at the Catholic school compared to the public school she would be attending 4) the uniforms are A.dor.able!!!Everyone knows that. But I’ve been noticing that there is a kind of catholic school girl mentality that is seeping in…almost taking over my little girl. Everything is Jesus this and God made me that, which, don’t get me wrong, is sweet but my little catholic school girl seems to be metamorphosing into a little nun. That scares me a little bit.
This is a Good Catholic School Girl
I am very happy that my little catholic school girl is so spiritual and finds such comfort in religion. The other day, she brought home a picture that she had drawn and it read, “God Created me!”. To which I replied, “Well, I think Daddy and I had something to do with it too. But yes, God did bless us with you.” Her reply, ” Mommy, it wasn’t you. It was God.” She was resolute in her answer and that was that. I fully suspect that every time she does anything these days, save for beat on her little sister, she first asks herself…What WOULD Jesus do? I find it absolutely fabulous that she is concerned with the moral ramifications of what she does on a daily basis. I am very proud of her. She is learning her prayers and hymns. Today, she sang in the church choir and presented the wine to the Father. I have never seen her look so proud. Even when she got her part in the Nutcracker last year , she wasn’t this excited. I couldn’t help but puff out my chest a bit and think to myself, Look at my kid. She is amazing. I understood that whole holier than thou saying.
Amazing little Catholic School Girl
But then she came home and set up a prayer station and insists that I must use her vial of holy water , that she brought home, to cross myself each night before our prayers. I suppose that it could be worse, she could go all Angelina on me and carry around a vial of blood. Yes. I did just say that my 6 year old carries around a vial of holy water like a drunk carries a flask of whiskey on his person at all times. I think this may be a bit extreme. Or perhaps, my little catholic school girl is planning on battling Vampires while I sleep. Or maybe she’s just trying to prove her theory that I am, in fact, a witch. Will I melt? Will I not melt? Who knows. Either way, how can I argue with my little girl when she devoutly kneels in front of her makeshift prayer station and prays for her Daddy to return safely from his business trip or for or house to sell. My little girl really is amazing. She’s certainly a better person than I am. But I can’t help being a little concerned about the accelerated speed at which she is embracing her faith. I fear that by next year she will be choosing her ordination habit.
Have you ever experienced this? Am I the only one? Am I over analyzing? I mean, honestly, I should be thrilled that she is embracing something positive, right? This is what I wanted. I think. I wanted my children to be spiritual and have a solid foundation in their faith. I guess I just never realized just how young children are when they start becoming who they will be. I don’t know how I feel about that. It’s like ringing a bell. You can’t un-ring it. I guess I just thought I had more time before she chose her path in life but I feel like she’s already forming opinions and beliefs and that is amazing and a little bit scary to me. My little catholic school girl is growing up so fast.
Extreme Catholic School Girl
Discipline~ Using Your inside Voice Outside…your head
Have you ever thought something in your head and in your head it’s really freaking funny? Lacking the discipline to keep it there, you say the words out loud and are met with the ” Is she F to the bomb out of her mind” look? No? Just me, eh?
So, let’s just say that your kids are being complete crack ninjas (of the cutest kind mind you) and you think to yourself, jeez…I’d really like to return these little maniacs to the baby store. But we never say such things out loud because we’d be seen as horrible people who are at the very least social deviants and at the most not fit for parenting at all. DCFS would be called immediately. Instead, we stand there in silence, biting our tongues while our hair falls out in clumps from stress and we develop ulcers…. and we smile. You know that ridiculous ” I have no clue what the hell to do and I can NOT control these ninjas without medicinal help!” look. And as our children misbehave, we simply take a deep breath and pray for time to pass quickly. Believe me, I know adults sometimes need a time out too.Nobody’s perfect, right?
In reality, what choices do we have? In a calm and quiet voice, bend to their eye level and try to reason with children beneath the age of reason? Have you seen anyone ever actually do this? I have and while it is perfectly PC and I wish I could be more like that Mama, it seldom works and is usually met with a resounding “NO!” which really translates in baby speak as a forceful “F*ck YOU!”
Perhaps, you could send them on their way to a nice long (age appropriate= 1 minute per year of life) “time out”. Excuse me but if the time out is under 2 minutes, foggedaboutit. It’s simply not going to work. If your child is too young to walk, time out won’t work. Aside from the fact they will just crawl away, the child will flee out of sheer incomprehension. I tried this and ended up chasing a giggling toddler around the room like Benny Hill. She thought it was a game…. catch the baby. I am the one who ended up in tears and apologizing.
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Image More4Kids If the child is too old for time out, they sit there ignoring you and waiting out the time out. They are content with this time to gather their thoughts and plan their bedtime revolt.
You can’t spank your child no more than you can kick your dog. You just can’t so just let that idea slip right out of your head.
Sure, you have your thoughts of effective discipline but never actually do them and you NEVER speak of them. These are the dreams of medieval discipline that we fantasize about when 7 children under the age of 5 are screaming and ignoring while we curl up in a corner crying in the fetal position.The key is NOT to speak of them in polite society.
Discipline~ Using Your inside Voice Outside…your head
“Come here you little punk, I bet a good dose of water-boarding will make you pick up those damn Polly pockets and Legos!”
“Oh yeah, NO to me? NO to you! NO dinner! No toys! No clothes! No play dates! I’m taking it all away!!!”
“You hate me? Well, I don’t like you either!”
“Why? Why? Because, I said so that’s why. Now stop asking me so many flipping questions!!!! ARGH!!!!!!!”
“Please, for the love of GOD, GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP!!!!!!!”
Then there is that one comment that you think might be acceptable to say out loud, funny even in the right context. When my hairdresser asked why I would get my girls names tattooed on my wrists:
“Well, I figure since they are the ones who make me want to slit my wrists perhaps if I see their sweet names there on my wrists it could give me something to live for. Or get a sharper razor.”
I was joking OBVIOUSLY but her face told me that that was one of those statements that most definitely should have stayed INSIDE MY HEAD!
Discipline~ Using Your inside Voice Outside…your head
So, now I have two problems, she thinks I’m an asshole and I have to find a new hairdresser. I should have exercised some discipline of my own filter.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]
Am I a Good Parent?
Am I a good parent? I ask myself that question almost constantly. I’ve been spending a lot of time lately mulling over what makes a good parent? More importantly, what constitutes bad parenting? I just can’t can’t seem to get away from it. No matter the issue, I want confirmation that I am doing it right..not wrong. I want to be the cool mom who gives all the great parenting tips because I have my collective parenting shit together but I AM NOT!
Good Parent?
My parenting skills are not without there purpose. I’ve learned a few things over the years. My girls have thus far survived pregnancy unscathed, toddlerhood without too many gaping holes and moved steadily into the part of full blown preschoolers. But here is where it’s getting tricky. This is where I am seeing the glimmer of therapy to come in their little eyes.
Ok, so maybe I am a little phobic about bugs. Jeez, can I help it that it freaks me the holy hell out if my freckles move and I need to instantly disrobe and hit the showers or have a complete undercover panic attack? I try not to share this seedy underbelly of life with my girls but I’m pretty sure that they can see the ‘EEK” in my eyes. I mean, it’s pretty much palpable! Maybe this is why Bella has decided to take a pass on the swingset this morning. I hope not.
Perhaps, it’s not the best technique of parenting when I am trying to
get the house cleaned,emails answered, blog post writtensave the world and I leave the girls in front ofYo Gabba Gabba, Tarzan, Family Guy( I jest, I jest) PBS for an extended amount of time. It’s not everyday and it’s not always but it happens. Just like chicken nuggets and cereal for dinner have happened. Or like forgetting dress down day at school? Permission slips? Homework? Does this make me a bad parent?I know it’s not exemplary. I wouldn’t write a book about parenting and suggest that people leave kids in front of the obesity tube. But for all the phobias, idiosyncrasies they have picked up even a bit of snarkilicious attitude they know one thing for certain…we love them. We unconditionally, every second of every day, no matter the weather or our mood or how many daunting tasks we have on our plate…We love them. We tell them! We hug them, kiss them.We show them. True, I have them sitting at the table next to me working on spelling as I am typing this. Not as hands on as I could be at this moment but we’ll do manis and pedis and have some Mommy/Daughter time before dinner. Is this bad parenting? Or is it realistic parenting?
What do you think makes a good parent? What qualifies as bad parenting? What is your finest parenting moment? Worst? I want to know…
Who makes the good parent rulebook?
First Haircut~Self-Inflicted Edition
The First haircut is the Deepest~ this is an understatement of epic proportions. My Gabs was born with a thick head full of curly jet black hair. In fact, when she came into the world and was placed into my arms I teetered on
sanitybetween laughing hysterically at those beautiful ringlets and crying from absolute joy and relief. I’m sure that I appeared a but Dr.Jeckyll/Mrs.Hyde but it was what it was. Gabs is my little Rapunzel , that glorious hair of hers has alwaysknottedflowed down her little back at about half the size of her entire being. Obviously, her hair has lightened up and those jet black ringlets are now much straighter but one fact has always remained, her hair has always been thick and long.Imagine my surprise at bedtime last Thursday when as I was rounding the girls up and tucking them in, I spied a rather large chunk of hair…on the floor. Both girls have exactly the same color and they both have really long hair, almost to their waist. Immediately, I embark on the task of discovering who is the scissor wielding culprit and who the unsuspecting victim are in the scenario. Both girls emphatically deny that the hair on the floor belongs to them or that they even have any knowledge of what has occurred. Apparently, they didn’t realize the fact that I my 20/20 vision and 147 IQ would tell me otherwise. Perhaps they have me confused with someone more oblivious, perhaps the Big Guy.
It only took me a minute or two to realize that Gabs was the victim. I must confess that it was not as conspicuous as I would have thought from the ever mounting copious amounts of hair I found strewn about the floors, in room after room. In fact, I began to wonder if I had another child who I had misplaced.
And so the interrogation began. I was certain Bella must have talked her little sister into it. But after much begging and crying ( on the part of all parties involved) and perhaps under the threat of Mommy shaving all hair off of both girls..a confession was elicited. Perhaps not admissible in court, but damn it…Mommy caught her culprit hair in hand…or I should say in the bathroom wastebasket as it were,and the kids scissors used in the crime were hidden carefully on the bookshelf between two books. I believe it was the children’s bible and Tangled. Suspicious, I think so. And guess who it was?
It was my 4 year old, who decided to butcher her own hair. When I asked her “WHY Gabs??????”
Gabs:”Me don’t know. Something just got in my head and I did it!”
I must say I am a little bit afraid of what might come in her head next ( or off her head as the case may be). I’ve always said that she is my forgiveness baby. She NEVER asks for permission but spends a lot of time asking for forgiveness. So, she started Thursday morning with loads of hair half way down her back and ended it with this!
I had to cut it this short in order to try and camouflage some of the damage she did. At least now, my baby doesn’t look like she has mange.
The Best White Lies I EVER told my Girls
We all know that I am all about the truth but occasionally I’ve had to stretch the truth a scoatch to bend the little ones to my Mommy will, in the name of the greater good, of course. Have you ever had to do this? If so, you may identify with the Best White Lies I EVER told my Girls.
- I told my girls that if they didn’t eat their asparagus, their hair would all fall out. It would start with small bald spots; like a dog with mange. (This came at a time when I actually had a small bald spot in my own hair. Timing is everything.)
- Elves are real and they are Santa’s henchmen. They teleport back to the North Pole each night during the Christmas season to report indiscretions perpetrated by naughty kids. They are eager to break some kneecaps but Santa is usually pretty forgiving. (To make the story believable, you must move said elves around nightly and they must appear in unexpected spots i.e. the toilet, the fridge, the tub, school backpack, etc.)
- Once when the door burst open to the “conjugalorium” (Child’s unoccupied bedroom because we have two co-sleepers and are forced to get inventive with our “adult” time), we told our 3 year old “Daddy was telling Mommy a secret, that’s why we were so close”.
- While driving back from my Moms house in Chicago, we passed a refinery spouting billowing puffs of pollution. My then 4 year old asked “Mommy is that a cloud factory where all the clouds of the world are made?” I said, “Yes, yes it is” How could I not?
- If you stay in the bathtub too long, you will shrivel up and turn into a raisin. Their eyes both turned into saucers, I could see fear and disbelief. I had to seal the deal, “And then people will eat you in their oatmeal!” They both promptly exited the tub and have not stayed for prolonged periods in the tub, since. They are also no longer interested in raisins in any way, shape or form.
- Bambi is a narcoleptic. Recently, my girls had their first ever experience with road kill, a beautiful, freshly deceased deer. The deer was lying at the side of the road, looking very peaceful and not moving. My 3 year old, with tears in her eyes, asked what the dear was doing. I told her the dear had narcolepsy. (P.S. This does not work if you see a random deer leg on the side of the road!)
- The Prayer Closet. A friend once told me that I needed to get myself a “Prayer” closet. My interest was piqued so I asked, “What’s a “prayer” closet?” Apparently, it is a walk-in closet that you can go to have marital relations. OK, but why the name, you ask. So did I. It’s called a prayer closet because once when she was in the closet calling out “Oh GOD!” She walked out to be greeted by her small child asking, “Mommy, what were you doing in there?” Her answer, “Honey, Mommy was praying. It’s Mommy and Daddy’s prayer closet.” The closet has since been soundproofed.
- The Boogie Man. I made the fatal mistake of using the word “BOOGIE MAN”. Previous to this, I have never used the concept with the girls. Nonetheless, it slipped out. My 3 year old heard it. “Mommy, what’s a Boogie Man?” This is where I went brain damaged. “It’s just a little fairy who comes out at night, if you don’t behave, and sucks the boogies out of your nose.” Why I thought this was less traumatic than the real story, I’ll never know.
- I told my girls, on New Years Eve, that their sparkling cider was actually champagne. I had them so convinced that my 5 year old had 2 glasses and swore she was drunk. Lightweight.
- When my daughter was 3 she was extremely afraid of chickens and lemurs. Don’t ask. Let’s just say Julian, from Madagascar, is persona non grata in our house. She is absolutely terrified. After many nights of her jumping out of bed because she swore chickens or lemurs were under her bed, I took a canister of Febreeze and transformed it into Chicken/Lemur spray. I went so far as to cover up the logo, wrote Chicken/Lemur Spray on the label with the words “Kills Chickens/Lemurs Dead!” complete with chicken skull and crossbones. Then, in Catholic priest fashion, I blessed the room and sprayed the entire room down. Then she slept. That was 2 years ago. Occasionally, she still has me spray the room down. Just to be safe.
I’d love to hear any white lies that you’ve had to tell your kids to get them to do what was best for them. How inventive have you had to get in the name of healthy food and a good night’s sleep?
*This is a piece written by me that was originally published on Momversation.com on January 2011.
Truthful Mommyisms
I can’t remember exactly how or when I met the lovely Alexandra, the voice of Good Day Regular People. I do know that she is like the big sister that I never had. She is a wonderful woman who writes a very smart, funny, entertaining and honest blog. I love reading her because for me, she is very relate-able. We share a common thread, we are both Latinas and Mothers. But her pieces are more than just that, they are the voices of Motherhood that transcend race, religion,creed, or station in life. If you are not already a follower of Alexandra, I hope that you will be. Not only is she an amazing supporter for her bloggy friends, she truly does celebrate her fellow women and she is full of maternal wisdom.I am honored to have her here today sharing her very tender and intimate truth about motherhood. She is one of the bravest women I know.I know that once you read her, you will hold her in as high a regard as I do. Thank You Alexandra for sharing your story. XO, Debi
Since I can remember, I have wanted to be a mother.
To have my own babies, and have a laundry basketful of little bitty socks and soft, cotton onesies to fold.
When I was five years old, I confessed to my grandmother, “Abuela, I can’t wait to have my own children.” Her response to me was, “God waits to send the perfect children just for you.” I smiled at the thought of what precious baby God would choose for me. I imagined having a little girl, full of curls and large, dark eyes, all legs kicking and joyful giggling.
I knew I would be a perfect mother, for that perfect baby. I would be the best mother there ever was. I would be loving, patient, full of kisses and good nature and never without a smile on my face and laughter in my voice. I would be a dream mom.
As time went on, my baby fever never wained. And the longer life had me wait for that perfect baby, the more precise the vision of what type of mother I would be, became. With every year that my biological clock ticked on, the more mature and wisened I imagined myself in the role of a lifetime: that of a mother.
I was growing impatient, and frankly, scared, when I was approaching 35 years old, and still without that one baby. That baby that my life felt empty without. That baby that would bring me all the happiness I felt I was missing. That baby that would make my life perfect. I knew that when that baby came, the heavens would open and a chorus of angels would sing, and I would be happy, fulfilled, and never experience any sort of sadness or negative feeling for the rest of my life.
Just five months short of my 36th birthday, I finally had that golden, much awaited, baby. The one that would bring me all the joy I knew would come with finally being a mother. All I had dreamed of was finally, here, in my arms.
What wasn’t part of my life’s dream, however, was the shock of the feelings I was having after the birth of this baby.
I was scared. I was in pain. I was confused and panicked. I was oh so very tired. And I had a baby that wasn’t crying, but screaming and inconsolable, painfully latching on to engorged breasts.
I burst into tears. This was the moment I had been waiting for my entire life? This?
What was wrong with me? I should be up and dancing and calling people on the phone, joyfully. Not laying here, in this hospital bed, hooked up to an I.V., with tears streaming down my face, holding a baby that I knew could read my mind that said, “I’m too scared to be your mama.”
I kept all these feelings to myself, I was so full of shame. I never heard of anyone crying with unhappiness when their baby was born. And especially me. Everyone in my life knew that all I ever wanted, was to have my own baby.
Fortunately, my Dr. was astute enough to know this was not a case of baby blues lite. She had me in her office by Day 5 of my beautiful boy being born.
She sent me to a Post Partum Depression specialist. My wonderful Dr. would call me at home, to see how I was doing. She located a PPD support group for me. She even called my husband and told him how important it was that he be home with me.
Was this the way I imagined the birth of my life long awaited first baby to be? No. It so sadly wasn’t.
This first baby is now 16 years old. But, the memory of his birth is a vivid, visceral one.
I have worked hard, through therapy, to forgive myself for not welcoming his coming into the world with joy. I have had to forgive myself.
The Truthful Mommyism that I’ve had to learn, is that I’m not perfect, but that does not make me any less of the perfect mother for my children. I am who I am, battle scars and all, and I’ve learned that facing and working through the challenges that life has sent my way, has made me see myself as a strong, brave, determined woman. When my first child was born, not only did I have a newborn to take care of, but I did it with PPD, temporarily broken dreams, and, at the time, disappointment in myself.
I did it, I survived, and I am proud to say, that I am proud of myself.
Mommy Competition or More Bullshit that I’m sick of
This post is for my fellow Mommy bloggers. I know some of you don’t like to be pigeonholed by the term. I, myself, am pretty proud of it. I have only been writing this blog for about 2 years, but in that time I have surrounded myself with a wonderful community or women and men; mostly parents and bloggers. I have met amazing women all over the globe. My friend and advice pool has increased exponentially. I have also learned that there is a definite pecking order in the community, as there is in any social circle. People with seniority are obviously going to know more about the field and have more experience and insight. This is nothing new. This is the way of the world.
Last night, I was checking my Twitter stream and I saw a confusing tweet about Top Tier (more seasoned) Mommy Bloggers and it linked to a post. I won’t link that post because I don’t like to give traffic to what I think is a malicious rant. I wasn’t sure if the tweet was in agreement of the post or against it. So, my interest was piqued and I had to read it for myself.The jist was that it was a complaint rant ( a whine, if you will) about how Top Tier Mommy bloggers are aloof and “take” all the opportunities and that the only reason they have the opportunities that they have is because they were here first.She went on to insinuate that the entire “community” that they inundate themselves with is nothing more than a handful of other Top Tier Mommy bloggers. The entire post felt to me like a platform to attack. Of course, it is her blog and she is entitled to say whatever she wants about whatever she wants.It’s her opinion but it really felt like sour grapes to me.
I am NOT a big name blogger, by any means. I fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum of Mommy bloggers.But I can say this with complete authority, these women are where they are because they are talented writers, they work hard to network, they put themselves out there with their writing and most have been working hard at this for years.YEARS!The writer of the post says that the Top Tier Mommy bloggers “worm” their way into every single internet uproar referencing the Today Moms and Babble.com. These bloggers are the authority because they’ve been doing it the longest and gotten exposure for being pioneers in the field. The Today Show and Babble go to them first because the Top Tier Mommy bloggers are the ones who have been here for the longest. FYI, I know several “new” bloggers (especially int he NYC area) who have several media opportunities. So, it’s not just about being in that elite group. You have to be available and engage in social media. You can’t sit on a Mommy blogger throne and just think you are so special that the world must come to you. We are all moms. We grow babies and share our experience, have opinions..the end. Most are not independently wealthy, they are paid in prestige. They are paid in mattresses, trips and cameras.They write because they love to write. They write to maintain their sanity.They write because they have something to say. They keep writing because we are reading. I admire them for their fortitude and ambition.It’s hard to keep working so diligently on a goal that is almost impossible to reach.Mommy blogging is about as hard as actual Mommying, with much less rewards.
I wonder if the blogger who wrote the post has even ever tried to reach out to these so called Top Tier bloggers? I have. I have networked and chit chatted with just about every single one of them via Twitter, FB, our blogs, email and various other blogging platforms. You know what? The ones I’ve interacted with are very friendly, willing to guide/mentor a new blogger, gracious and smart. They don’t shut new bloggers out. But, as a new blogger, you have to be willing to engage, introduce yourself. They don’t know you. How could they? You’ve never met. It’s common sense, just like in your real life relationships.You have to make an effort. You can’t sit on your ass and expect Mohammad to come to the mountain. Most of us are not that fucking special.In fact, no one is that fucking special. Life is about relationships. You get out what you put in.
It’s ridiculous that I have to defend these ladies for doing nothing wrong. This post I read talks about community and the TOP TIER bloggers keeping it very elite and cliquey when she herself is the one who is attacking; shutting them out. They are not writing about keeping people out. She is. I think this is more a case of sour grapes than anything else. This is where the dysfunction comes from in this community.Not from Top Tier Mommy bloggers shutting people out but from whiny bloggers giving up and looking for someone else to blame for their own shortcomings. Work hard, persist and persevere or give up and shut up. Either way, stop complaining.
