Last week I had a coffee date with a 25-year-old guy. (For business reasons, people. Business. You all know I stopped answering Craigslist personal ads right after that strangling nonsense started happening. It’s like you can’t trust random psychopaths on the internet anymore.)
Anyway, because I’m a mother and have a blog, the guy I met with kept referring to me as a “mommyblogger.” Which makes sense, but I guess I never really think of myself that way. Mostly because instead of cute baby pictures or organic diaper product reviews, I usually post things like this:
Of course, I’d much rather be called a “Manilow blogger” or a “Powerball Winner blogger” or a “Scarlett Johannson Look-A-Like But With Bigger Boobs blogger,” but let’s run with this mommy blogger thing for a minute, shall we? It might be fun.
How about we start with recipes? Everybody loves recipes! Here’s one of my family’s favorites that’s been handed down for generations:
OK, that’s an ugly swimsuit on a dork. Sorry about that. You see, I actually don’t have any recipes. In fact, I don’t even know if my oven’s gas or electric and I once made birthday cake frosting using corn starch and a pool cue chalker. But let’s try some mommy blog action again. I know I can do it.
How about a picture of my kids doing something adorable? Everybody likes those, right? Sweet, smiling, cute kids? Here’s one I just love:
OK, that’s a pigeon. I actually don’t have a picture of my kids. But just so you know, they’re a little taller than the pigeon and one of them has a new retainer on his teeth that makes him talk like the effeminate warden at an Eastern European prison camp. Also, neither of them has lice in their feathers.
So, how about a product review? Yes? Like a review I wrote about an exciting, new item that every parent in the world should immediately run out and buy just because I liked it? Here you go:
OK, that’s Leonid Brezhnev. That’s the kind of photo that gets stored on your computer when you’re friends with someone like Marinka, who emailed it to me because she thinks he looks like one of the angry birds in Angry Birds. I’ve actually never written a product review because, for some reason, nobody’s ever asked me. Not even the people who make ugly swimsuits worn by dorks.
Next up, my scrapbooking work! You may not know it, but I’m very creative and resourceful when it comes to using my hands and paper. Why, just look at the intricacy of this particular page I made to commemorate the first day of T-Ball:
OK, that’s me drunk on a cruise ship. I think this was taken right after my husband said that he wouldn’t allow me to enter the “Hairiest Chest” contest on the Lido deck, but I’m not sure. Maybe if I’d actually put the pictures from that trip into a photo album instead of losing the memory card in a dirty margarita glass in Puerta Vallarta, I’d know for certain. At any rate, I’m sure I would have won first prize because most of the guys in the contest looked like rabid chihuahuas wearing Ed Hardy hats. Ah, memories.
But I guess what all of this means—my lack of recipes, kid photos, product reviews and scrapbooking tips—is that I’m not a mommy blogger after all, if those are the things that supposedly define a mommyblogger. Then again, I’m a woman, I have children, I occasionally write about those children and right now someone’s throwing a Sponge Bob ball at my head and begging to be fed before they pass out from “freakin’ starvation.” So maybe I really am a mommy blogger.
But I’d still rather be called a “Scarlett Johannson Look-A-Like But With Bigger Boobs blogger.” Wouldn’t you?
________
You’re my kind of mommy, that’s for sure. Also Brezhnev looks totally like the red angry bird.
And I also want to join your cult. I’m with Klz about the t-shirt idea.
[…] And that is all. When I wasn’t busy (not) reading blogs this week (sorry friends) I was cooking! And now I’m going to share a recipe! Which means I am a mommyblogger, (unlike this chick) […]
Your child is more attractive than mine.
There can be only one.
In my heart of hearts you are a Scarlet Johansson lookaile with bigger, etc., only way better.
Hilarious. And true. You may not be a mommy blogger.
But you’re a fantastic writer.
Hey that looks like my bathing suit! And when you’re done posting that recipe that I’ve been waiting for, please tell me how to pick up, wait, have lunch with a 25 year old man. Having a husband and heading into 50 has really cut down on my dating life.
Oh god, the resemblance is uncanny…
i think maybe we should all be able to create descriptive blog names for ourselves that appear in the header of our posts.
like “masturbatingmama blogger”, or “frostytheheartless blogger”.
i’m sure we could all come up with something that describes us better than “mommy blogger”.
because that’s just……meh.
and my stove is gas! (i only know that because my boyfriend had to show me how to turn it on)
also, i’ve never had a drink with a mini umbrella. i am obviously lacking in worldly experience.
So did he use air quotes when he said “mom blogger”….or did he refer to it as your “online bloggy thing”….that’s where i go all ape shit on people.
In other news, people still do product reviews? I thought that whole thing was ruined when bloggers were sent massive amounts of “review this yanni” cd emails. No?
Yes. Yes I would. I’m waaaay too much of a mommy blogger. That’s why I’m writing about people who change their babies on tables at restaurants from now on.
Great. After 6 months of braces, I’ve just most recently re-mastered a speech pattern my family and friends can decipher. I can only hope that when my retainer turns me in to some lisping Hostel extra the liqour store delivers. Kisses, you rule.
I’m screwed if being a mommyblogger means recipes, kid photos, and product reviews. I burn toast but can make a mean glass of pinot noir; I didn’t realize we were supposed to take pics of our kids…do mug shots count?; and I’m pretty sure I’ve never used a product properly in my life (apparently an ice cream scooper is not a “massager”…who knew?).
Mommy blogger my … ANYWAY.
We aren’t just mommy bloggers, we’re MILFS
OK .. THAT TOTALLY WASN’T SUPPOSE TO HAPPEN.
(Had to yell to counteract that post that posted BEFORE I finished … couldn’t have happened on a worse statement.)
MILFS = Mothers Interjecting Life & Friendship into their daily SSDD, routines.
An out is an out. This is June Cleaver to the Nth degree. We’re the rocket scientists of Motherhood.
OK, maybe not rocket scientists. More like an international support group to keep us all off the booze after changing 500 dirty diapers in under 2 hours .. all while frying the bacon and polishing the fine china.
OK, maybe not 500 …. 😉
I think I’d rather be a Mila-kunis-look-alike-but-with-less-lesbian-sex-scenes-blogger.