Dear Blog Lady,
You know that feeling you get when you just can’t look away from a train wreck? You know, like when you watch Honey Boo Boo or Hoarders? Oh, you’ve never watched those shows? Hmmm…I should have known. Well, just trust me, then. They are the best kind of train-wreckedness that there is.
Well, here’s the thing. Your cutesy little nook of the Web is the exact opposite of a train wreck, and yet I still can’t look away. I feel that same mesmerizing attraction when I read about your picture-perfect backyard birthday party or the straight-from-a-magazine meals that you feed your toddler. But here’s the important difference. Honey Boo Boo makes me feel really great about my family. You? Well, you make me feel like a failure.
When your super shallow depth of field photos pop into my blog feed, I can’t help myself. I must click and read. I know that your latest kiddie cook recipe, complete with the tiny, trendy, retro apron and minty green Kitchen Aid mixer, are going to make me feel like a miserable mom for feeding Chica microwave mac and cheese six out of the last seven nights. (And I didn’t even let her help. Sorry.) I also know that your latest craft project will leave me thinking I need to quick find some gelatin or Mod Podge or a Mason jar in order to keep up. Then I’ll remember all of the other random crafty items I bought this summer thanks to you and your mommy blogger friends, and I’ll start to snap to my senses. Oh, but then I’ll read the latest cute thing your kid said, and I’ll wonder why your kid never whines or sasses like mine.
At the risk of sounding creepy, I’ll admit I’ve thought about you and your wispy pig-tailed kid all day. At first I tried to justify to myself why I should never expect to actually live up to your Martha Stewart Mommy expectations. You probably don’t work, and I do. You have one kid, and I have two. Your husband probably makes a million dollars, and well, mine’s a teacher. Oh, and you obviously have some sort of wicked camera lens that I don’t have in order to get pictures like that. But then I decided to get real and realized that even if I had one kid, no job, a rich husband, and the best camera in the world, my life wouldn’t look like yours.
Then I started trying to convince myself that you probably aren’t as perfect as you really seem. You probably have some days where you stay in your pajamas all day and feed your kid frozen chicken nuggets and apple sauce from a jar, right? She doesn’t really eat mango-chai-coconut-poppy seed-avocado-whatever every single day, does she? Just once can you post a picture of her vegging in front of the TV or your exploding laundry pile so that we don’t feel like total failures over here? Thanks in advance.
So after thinking about you all day, I’ve come to one tiny (hopefully healthier) conclusion. Just as the world needs all types of people, the world needs all types of mommy bloggers. You just carry on with your show as-is. We need people like you to inspire us once in a while. Thanks to you maybe Chica will get mac and cheese five nights instead of six this week. Ok…just maybe.
But the world also needs a few tell-it-like-it-really-is mommies. And I’ll carry on and tell the world that my house is a mess, and I yell a lot, and my kids aren’t perfect, but we make it work. Actually, some days, we even have a lot of fun.