The Mommy Wars

Disclaimer: the pictures in this blog do not necessarily possess thematic relevance.

I think the gerbil in my brain that runs the wheel that makes words goes into hibernation mode periodically. I haven't posted since August? Maybe the gerbil died. I don't know. I think last year at this time I was determined to blog once a week. And that, folks, is why New Years Resolutions are stupid.

Anyway, as I was clicking around "teh internets" today, and I ran across this blog written about how some Similac commercial is pretending to end the "Mommy Wars" but is really perpetuating the "Mommy Wars." The gerbil spontaneously reanimated and I thought... What the redacted are "Mommy Wars?" Apparently there is a whole cross section of hip, youngish moms who feel like every choice they make as mothers is in some kind of competition with the mothering world at large. Like breast feeding versus bottle feeding is a question for the history books or something. "I regret that I have but two boobs to give for my country!" Seriously, though... Is this really a thing?

So the gerbil took off running, and I was able to ponder these concepts a little. The conclusion I came to, if it can even be called a conclusion, is that we all spend too much redacted time on the Internet. Used to be, you had a baby and your parents and in-laws and maybe your neighbors all brought over casseroles and cooed a bit. Maybe offered advice that, in your sleep addled new mother state, you either forgot or ignored. And you went about muddling through to the best of your ability just like every other mother. Now, evidently, "good" mothers read mommy blogs and mommy books and buy all the best mommy products. Now motherhood is a competition, I guess. You know what? I'm glad I didn't know this. Only think how stressed I would've been had I known.

I suppose, as a writer of what could, at times, look like a "mommy blog" I might seem insincere with the above sentiments, but the truth is, I started writing this blog because I hate talking on the telephone. I thought, nine years ago, If I write down all the semi-interesting stuff in a blog, then I can tell my extended family and friends to read it and I won't actually have to talk to anyone! Awesome! It just so happens that a lot of my personal semi-interesting stuff has to do with my kids. So... accidental mommy blog! The good news for anyone reading this is that you don't have to include anything I say in your Mommy War strategies. I'd hate to perpetuate the chaos. 

Having said all that, I'd like to relate a story. The best place to wrestle is on Mommy's bed. This is a proven fact. I'm sure there are scientific studies and stuff. Anyway, after wrestling and tickling a while one day, my boys and I were laying around in a heap. The six year old says to me, "Mommy, your belly is soft." I'll admit, for a moment, I straight up panicked. YIKES! I have truly entered middle age! I have a soft belly, and wrinkles, and gray hairs and I will never be pretty and alluring again! But then I thought, Hey, wait: he means that as a compliment. He's small and snuggley and he likes to lay his head on mommy's pillow belly because it is warm and soft like a mommy should be. So, besides the fact that loving my soft belly allows me to eat more Snickerdoodles and put cream in my tea, I decided that I would be happy to have a soft belly because that's what being a mommy is kind of about for me. I'm pretty sure that guarantees I won't be winning any Mommy Wars. Good thing I didn't realize I was in one!