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?