One of the Mother’s Day messages at church encouraged us to talk more about the delights of motherhood and whine less about the difficulties. Now, I know the speaker who gave that admonishment reads my blog, so of course I’m thinking, “Who you lookin’ at!”
To whine or not to whine, that is the question.
I didn’t get into blogs in the first wave with a lot of my friends so I missed the onslaught of “My life is perfect” mommy blogs. One of my first introductions to a mommy blog was Jensen Authenticity. Angela Jensen started her blog in response to the sea of bubbly, stay-at-home, “roses bloom beneath our feet/all the world’s a garden sweet”, I-never-yell-at-my-kids-because-I-never-have-a-reason-to blogs. Authenticity’s goal is to show the real face of modern stay-at-home parenting rather than present a manicured portrait of a shiny, happy family. When I first read it, I was like, “Yeesh, I’m not that brave.” Well, it only took me four years, but I got that brave. I also thought, “Yeesh, I wonder what she would think of my out-of-control family matching.”
(Just a side note that somehow Angela started reading my blog, and then we became besties, and now we wear friendship bracelets and braid each other’s hair and talk about you in her kitchen.)
So the Mother’s Day message sank deep into my heart, and I’ve been asking whether I’ve let my blog become a baby bashing forum. I do give air time to the stress of motherhood, maybe more air time because the travails are generally funnier than the triumphs. But I also show how much fun it is to be a mom and how much I adore my kids.
I think I’m mostly pleased with the tone of my blog. When I started blogging publicly, my goal was not to glorify or denegrate parenthood, but simply to be real about my life and my feelings. I hoped that some people would read it and say, “That’s exactly how I feel even though I’m too afraid to say it.” Sure, there are times when I think, “I had such a great thing going when Fluffy was an only child. Maybe I should have quit while I was ahead.” And then my period starts, and I go back to feeling equal to the tasks I’ve set myself and drinking in my baby boys with the ardent fervor of someone who willed her twins into existence with longing.
For the record, there are a great many joys of motherhood. For instance, the boys have discovered sliding face first down the back of the couch, and the glee around here is unbridled. Couch sliding generally ends with one of them crying and running to my arms while I say, “I told you if you try to slide face first onto the floor, you’re going to slide face first onto the floor.”