I really should be cleaning right now, but I have this thought in my head that I have to get out. No doubt that I will forget the details I was sorting through my head as I was washing dishes, but I will attempt to think them out on “paper”.
Mommy blogging. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.
By definition, a “mommy blogger” is a mom who blogs. That would make me a mommy blogger. I also write about the day-t0-day details of my life and being a stay-at-home mom of a 4 month old, I tend to write about motherhood. My primary goals of writing on here is this: 1. I need to write because I love to write. 2. I like feeling like I am having a conversation with the reader. 3. I like having connections with people and knowing that they can relate. While #1 is my primary reason, #2 and #3 are why I write online. I have a journal for more private matters (and besides, who doesn’t LOVE the feel of pen on paper?) but I like having friends (real or pseudo) to relate to.
My main goal is to be authentic.
I hate when people market motherhood like a product. We already have corporations that do that. I don’t want the mom down the street marketing to me. I don’t want to read a blog that makes motherhood sound continuously upbeat and cheerful. I don’t like it when my child makes a sound like a velociraptor. I don’t like it when she chucks all over me and I smell like sour milk. My life isn’t perfect and I am learning it’s okay to love my daughter overwhelmingly and not like her at that moment.
I didn’t cease being April when I became a mother. Being a mom is an extension of myself, of who I was created to be. It is not my defining characteristic.
I have a serious problem when people try to make mommy blogging a business. If a blog is real and authentic and becomes a business as an extension of who the mom is… I really don’t mind that. There are women who do that well. There are also women that immediately set out to do that. I think that requires a portion of narcissism and it reminds me a lot of marketed Christianity. I am not the only woman who has ever had a baby. I am not a person that has it all figured out. I am not falsely positive. I want to hear from a person who is messy around the edges, who doesn’t have a seemingly perfect life with “Superkids.”
Let me rejoice with you. Mourn with you. Groan, celebrate, and relate to you. Tell me about your kids’ birthdays and dinners. Show me pictures and videos. But be you in the process. I don’t like the smell of inauthenticity. It’s too sickly sweet.
My hope is that I’m authentic. Seriously, slap me if I’m not. I realize that this has become a bit of a rant, and it wasn’t my intention. I’ve just seen marketed Christianity where Jesus is a shiny product. I don’t want to see motherhood the same way.
That’s just not my thing.