Do They Make A T-Shirt For Days Like This?

Ever since giving birth the second time around in May, all I seem to ever wear are t-shirts; simple, boring white t-shirts that hide spit up, leakage and whatever else my kids seem to cover me with.  Usually, I could care less, but on days when I find myself surrounded by people that had more than 4 minutes to get dressed, it starts to bug me.   Yesterday, while I was playing with my boys at the park, wearing my traditional white t-shirt and yoga pants, I found myself gawking at this mom dressed in a gorgeous dress, with platform wedges that had to be at least 6 inches high.  My internal monologue was “whomp, whomp, whomp.” I found myself feeling like I needed to explain the reason for my lack of creativity and finesse in my appearance.  Then I thought, if only my white t-shirts could explain, they would be able to say…


Monday T:  “It’s Laundry Day?  Maybe.”

On Mondays, I look like I am a little hungover, which of course I am not.  But I do have a newborn which sometimes makes me look like I am really, really, really hungover.   In fact, maybe Monday’s shirt should read like this:

“At Least I’m Not Drunk.”

Tuesday T:  “I’m Going to the Gym…Someday”

I feel like I have a little bit more strength on Tuesdays, predominantly because it is no longer Monday.  I even think I might go on that long walk, spend that extra time on the elliptical or do some yoga.  I even get to shower in the morning because the Mush Man is back on his regularly weekly routine.   Hmm.  Maybe Tuesday’s shirt should read:

“At Least My Pits Are Clean”

Wednesday T:  “Yes.  This is My Husband’s Shirt.”

Usually the laundry that I have folded has still yet to make its way up the stairs and into my drawers.  So I ultimately end up stealing something from my husband’s drawer.  Remember when you first started dating a guy, and it was kind of sexy to wear his clothes?  But then when he becomes your husband, it becomes decidedly less sexy.  That’s not fair.  Perhaps, Wednesday could read:

“This Shirt Belongs to the Guy I Have Sex With”

Thursday T:  “Once Upon a Time, I Looked Really, Really Hot All the Time.”

On Thursdays ,I start to get pissed at myself for wearing t-shirts all week long.  I start reminiscing about all of the cute little outfits I use to wear; the ones without spit up stains and elastic.  I even start to miss the occasional “cat calls” I would get; the ones I use to hate…because they came from really ugly men.  This pity party becomes aggravated when I see a woman dressed to the nines at my son’s school during pick up time.  We are picking up children, not men!  You know, Thursday’s should really say:

“Once Upon a Time, Your Husband Hit on Me…And I Turned Him Down!  You’re Welcome.”

Friday T:  “It’s Friday.  I Get A Free Pass.”

I love Fridays.  Who doesn’t?  I am excited for my husband to come through my front door and be my slave for the weekend….um, I mean spend time with me. On Fridays, I don’t care what I look like.  Until, I see pretty girls all dressed up, getting ready to go out on dates or to bars etc.  And sadly, sometimes my pity part of one starts to return.  I think Friday’s shirt would be a much better pick me up if it said:

“My Dinner is Paid For & I Don’t Have to Put Out.”

Saturday T:  “Look I Finally Got My Sh*t Together!”

On Saturday, I have time to do my hair and my makeup…at the same time…without interruption! I can take a shower without being on a timer!  Life is fabulous on Saturday!  I feel good going out places and knowing that the only way you can tell I have kids is by seeing them with me, and not by seeing any of their bodily fluids on me!  Saturdays make me feel all kinds of good.  Good like Saturday’s could say:


Sunday T:  “I Wore Real Clothes Yesterday, OK”

Sundays make me tired.  Usually because I like to stay up late Saturday night because my husband and I take turns sleeping in.  After sleeping in, the reality of not doing any chores starts to set in, and I start to go into crazy cleaning lady mode.  Hair does not get done on this day.  Neither does makeup.  The sexy lady who occupied my body yesterday has been replaced with no nonsense, get this house picked up lady.  You got to love that lady.  Side note: As, I read this aloud my husband informed me that this lady sucks.  So maybe Sunday’s should read:

“Whatever, I Got to Sleep in This Morning & I have kids!”

Categories: Day To Day, PPP (Parenting Pet Peeves), Sticky Situations | Leave a comment

Pregnancy is NOT a SNL Skit

via The Stir

This morning I was perusing Facebook while nursing my Mush Man and found this little pearl on the web.  Something about reading the headline Self help for pregnant Bimbos made my eyeballs practically burst and made my mouth blurt WTF?  I went on to read the article which is a critique about a new pregnancy book just waiting to hit the shelves.  The pregnancy book is suppose to be a cheeky, little read that will tell pregnant ladies everything they need to know about pregnancy but have not been told by friends, midwives, doctors etc.  Some of the highlights of the book include farting for an entire week, not getting too fat and how to lose the baby weight; because of course those are the most important things to know about pregnancy.  GAG.

This book’s angle of looking at pregnancy with the same amount of depth as a kiddie pool, is nothing new.  A pregnant gal doesn’t have to look very far to find very, very crappy literature about arguably the most important event in her life.  Even I have bought one of these ridiculous books; Skinny Bitch Bun in the Oven cough, cough, gag, gag.

I appreciate humor of all types.  I can sing bits and pieces of Weird Al songs, and I actually thought Coneheads  was kind of funny; so I get crappy humor.  I do, however, dislike doing anything for a laugh or poking fun at the expense of those that need supporting.  While I do believe that pregnancy is a very sacred experience, I do not think that pregnancy jokes are off limits; however, packaging up a bunch of pregnancy related “stuff” and giving it a Clueless write all of this nonsense?  Sidenote:  I did like Clueless, but I don’t want Cher and Dion giving me pregnancy advice.  Kidding aside, we live in a society with an alarmingly high c-section rate and an unhealthy obsession with putting super skinny women on a pedestal for reasons that have nothing to do with anything other than their waistline.

Why do we have to hunt for all of the good pregnancy material out there?  When I was pregnant with my firstborn, this is what I knew about pregnancy:

  • Pregnancy is where your stomach gets big, but every other part of your body stays normal.  Courtesy of a TON OF PREGNANCY ADS & COMMERCIALS.
  • There is a ton of shit that can go wrong.  Courtesy of TLC’s A Baby Story
  • Epidurals and episiotomies are normal and necessary. Courtesy of  TLC’s A Baby Story again.
  • C-sections are chic and easy.  Courtesy of A BOAT LOAD OF CELEBRITIES.  Too Posh to push, anyone?
  • It is really important to lose the baby weight, but don’t worry because it is super easy.  Courtesy of A BOAT LOAD OF CELEBRITIES again.

Obviously I know that you shouldn’t rely on things like television, celebrities and advertisements for important information; however, unless you have been pregnant before, being pregnant feels very foreign.  And when you are bombarded with image after image and article after article portraying pregnancy to look a certain way, it is hard to not buy into all of it to some degree.  And it also gets pretty hard to not feel bad about yourself for a number of reasons when you find yourself not fitting the “mold” touted by society.

But books are different.  People believe what they read in books and are influenced by books in a totally different way.  Books about pregnancy, babies and childbirth have to tell the truth and be factual, right?  Because they are written by doctors or are given endorsement by popular brands, right?  Despite many people knowing that you have to research and dissect most if not all information about all that is baby, there are tons of people who believe what they see on the cover because it is being sold at a popular book store.  Now, when you take that same book filled with crappy advice, negative images and ridiculousness and make it funny, you add to the growing numbers of misinformed pregnant mothers who view the awesome miracle that their body is creating as another need for a diet or another “thing” to be uncomfortable about.

Maybe it will take Ricky Lake doing some stand up during her next birth film to get people to begin finding, reading and understanding information about pregnancy that is relevant and meaningful.  Perhaps, Ina May Gaskin can deliver Angelina Jolie’s 7th baby naturally to make women realize that opting for a C-section is about as chic as stapling a pair of Christian Louboutin stilettos to your feet.

Pregnancy and birth is not meant to be fashionable, “in” or the next “it” thing.  It isn’t the pun of the joke or the reason to avoid eating carbs.  We are talking about creating a child, not putting an accessory clad Chihuahua in a Gucci purse.  It is meant to be a wonderfully, incredible experience.  And that is what we need to hear more about.

Categories: PPP (Parenting Pet Peeves), Sticky Situations, The Mighty Womb | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

The Thrill of the Hunt: My Unhealthy Obsession With Getting A Deal

I enter the building armed with a venti Starbucks iced green tea- unsweetened of course. My uniform: yoga pants, tank top, bright blue Nikes and some long vesty thing that covers my left over baby chub.  I am not here to mess around.  I have come to compete.  I am here for the kill.

There are three possible locations where my prey may be hiding.  I have to stay focused on these three.  I begin my course and peer into the first location.  Large signs tout 60% savings.  I am intrigued, but upon further observation I read the fine print, “Up to.”  I turn my nose up at the store.  Everybody knows that “up to” is another phrase for “not on the good stuff.”  I continue.

I find my next possible kill spot.  This time the sign read, “Buy one, get one.”  This is enough to satisfy some hunters, but not me.  I am interested in the big beasts, not the appetizer.  I make a mental note to revisit if my hunger is not satisfied at my final location.

I continue.  For a split second I am distracted by the warm smell of fall scented candles burning, and I think, “I could really use…” But then I snap out of it.  I am not a rookie.  I am here on a mission.  I continue.

Finally, I have reached my final location.  I look into the window, and it is as if I have found the mother-land.  Racks lined with 40% off, 60% off and 70% dance in the window.  BOGO deals line the walls.  And at the very back lies the big beast.  THE CLEARANCE RACK!  And this was no ordinary clearance rack.  This was a clearance rack with AN ADDITIONAL 25% OFF MARK DOWN!  Gasp!  Suddenly, I remember what I brought with me; what I brought to take down the big beast.  In my purse was AN EXTRA 20% ANY PURCHASE OF 40 OR MORE!  The game was on!

First, I made my rounds.  I like to stalk my prey.  Racks of single outfits, double outfits and quadruple outfits surrounded me.  Winter coats, sleepers, pants, onesies and long sleeved shirts scurried about.  I decided I would have to conduct my hunt in rounds.  The first hunt would be devoted to multipack outfits for the Mush Man.  I began grabbing.  I could only take the 9 months and 12 months, the rest were granted a pardon.  My next wave of attack was aimed at the BOGO pajamas.  There were so many to choose from!  This is where I could have lost it.  I could have over hunted this area because the fuzzy moose, puppy and football pajamas were almost too cute to bear.  I restrained myself.  Next, it was time to hunt the big boy clothes for the Monkey Boy.  Four pairs of short, 4 long sleeved shirts and one puffy vest never saw me coming.

Finally, it was time for the big kill.  THE CLEARANCE RACK!  I went after it like a banshee.  My fist flew through the air with mad fury.  Onesize for $2.00 snagged!  Layette sweater for $4.00, practically ripped from the hanger.  Fuzzy outfit, I didn’t even look at the price!  I was a machine.  Check size, check tag, grab it, MINE!

I hauled my kill to the counter; 39 outfits in total.  Then, the real game began.  I watched the prices fly by me and watched the discounting begin.  I was giddy.  When the cashier read me my total, I whipped out my extra coupon like it was a switchblade.  Boom!  $50 dropped from the screen.  I paid the good lady my money, and then something remarkable happened.  She gave me $10 to use either immediately or before the end of the year.  I was torn, but decided that enough fury had been unleashed for one day.  It was not in me to take more kill than necessary.  I tucked the little fellow into my purse, with my new coupon and walked out.  I turned back, tipped my imaginary hat and whispered, “till we meet again, old friend.”

Categories: Day To Day, Parenting | Tags: , , , , | 1 Comment

Special Post: Job Vs. Jobs

Why My Kid Deserves More Than A Public School Education

Let me begin by saying that I have a heart for education.  I love learning, teaching and teachers.  Most teachers are wonderful people that go above and beyond when the situation calls for it and expect very little, if anything, in return.  Teachers, public school teachers especially, truly deserve the world, and most of them get it via connecting with students and finding fulfillment through teaching.

I went to school to become a teacher.  I loved school as a kid.  I loved school because I was good at it; however, don’t confuse being good at school with being smart.  While I am no dummy, I am certainly not exceptionally gifted or talented (just don’t tell my husband), and I am at least smart enough to know this.  School and I clicked because I figured out how to do it; some people call this the hidden curriculum.  Throughout the years I learned that you don’t always have to try your best, you don’t have to read everything your assigned and you can even cheat because at the end of the day, the only thing that matters is the grade.  My grade of choice was an A, but a B would do in math or science because I was not good at those subjects; not to mention those subjects were meant for boys <insert sarcasm>.  Yes, this is what I really learned in school.  I learned that you can fake it and still make it.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love, love, love to learn, but I love, love, love to learn things that I find interesting.  And a lot of what is in school is not very interesting.

Schools today are kind of sad.  They employ a model of learning that, if illustrated, would look like a teacher pouring facts from a pot into a funnel connected to a child’s head.  The goal is to get as much in as fast as possible.  You have to get all of that information in really fast because that child is going to have a bazillion tests to take throughout the year; standardized tests that offer only a snapshot of what a child knew on one particular day, under particular circumstances.  You would never in a million years hire a person by having them complete a standardized test.  Why?  Because it would tell you zilch about them.  Anything that you can guess at doesn’t accurately measure intelligence.  Despite the inherent flaws of standardized tests, which every teacher and administrator with half a brain knows about, they are still given to students.  Why?  Because they are cheap to produce and easy to administer.  Not to mention that the completion of these test help determine the funding of a school.

Funds.  That’s another problem.  There aren’t enough to go around, at least not in my state.  That is why students have poor, cheap materials, outdated texts (which is worthy of another blog all together) and stressed out teachers.  It is stressful to teach without having enough materials; not to mention poor materials.  Can you imagine what it would be like for a surgeon to have to operate with materials equivalent to those given to teachers?  I know; a teacher is not like a surgeon.  But you expect a teacher to teach a surgeon, don’t you?

Suppose a child has the potential to be a surgeon.  In my state, that child would quite possibly not be exposed to science materials until the 4th grade, and when he was, he would be taught the science that is on the statewide proficiency exam.  I don’t know if biology is on it.  He would also be taught in a room that averaged around thirty kids.  And he is probably going to have outdated materials, which he might have to share.  There probably won’t be enough money in the classroom budget to buy equipment or supplies for science projects.  And there probably isn’t any money in the school budget to afford a fieldtrip.  So instead, he will probably learn by looking at some outdated pictures in a book or a film that was created in the 80’s.  If he is lucky and has a teacher that had some time on her hands, he might get to watch a PowerPoint presentation, but that is only if his teacher can reserve the projector and has her own laptop.  You put all of these conditions together, and it makes for a very uninspiring look at school.  In fact, it was for these very reasons that I disliked science.  We never got to do anything.

But here is the problem.  You want your kids to love to learn and learn by doing because that is real learning.   I have taken hundreds of classes and have been is school for close to twenty years and there is so much that I didn’t really learn.  I got A’s in the classes, but not because I learned.  I got A’s because I learned to play the game, and I got rewarded for playing the game.  I was nice, quiet and all my teachers liked me.  If I forgot an assignment, no big deal, I was teacher’s pet.  Rarely did I go above and beyond what I was asked for because I could get A’s by just being average.  And the thing is, I don’t want that for my kid.

I don’t want my kids to learn what I learned at school.  I want my kids to have more.

Waist-high portrait of man in his fifties wearing a black turtle-neck shirt and blue jeans, gesturing in front of a blue curtain

(Image via Wikipedia)

On October 5, 2011, Steve Jobs died.  Steve Jobs, one of the founders of the sensation that is Apple, was arguably a genius.  By the age of 25 he had created a computer in his parents’ garage, and he made millions.  He later went on to change the way the world communicated, lived and connected with technology.  He did all of this after dropping out of college.  Maybe Steve Jobs was tired of learning the way most kids learn today.  Side note:  Don’t think that learning in college is all that different than it is in a regular public school.  While Steve Jobs is clearly an inspiration, I have to tell you that I think his parents are the real heroes.

(Image via Wikipedia)

How many parents do you know that would let their kid tinker in their garage with a buddy after dropping out of college to make something as abstract as a computer?  Mine wouldn’t.  Mine would have told me to get a job, fend for myself and get realistic about life.  And I wouldn’t knock them for doing so.  A part of the American culture is getting your ass out of bed every day to go work and provide.  You have to buy a house, buy a car, save money for retirement and save some money for a rainy day.  Sure you can dream, but just don’t do it during working hours.  And most of the American public is OK with this.  Most of us are totally content with this way of life.  Is it because we have learned mediocrity from our schooling at such an early age that we have grown to be content with it?

The irony is that we tell our kids that they can be anything and that they dream big, but most of us at adults do the exact opposite.  We dream with caution.  We don’t take the risk because we can’t bear to fail.  And most of us have never failed, but then again, most of us have never really taken big risks.

My oldest son is supposed to start kindergarten next year.  I don’t want my son to go to school the way I did.  I don’t want him to sit in a classroom with 29 other children aching for attention and fighting boredom.  I want him to learn by doing.  I want him to learn by tasting, smelling, listening, seeing and touching.  I want him to work hard at something not because there is a grade, sticker or prize for doing it, but because he truly feels as though the process of the work is reward enough.  I want him to dream something that hasn’t been imagined.  And I even want him to fail.  I want him to fail so that he is not afraid of it.  Because once you experience real failure, once you buck the system and go off on your own, you realize that you never really failed.  You realize that the failures are those that are afraid of failing.

Steve Jobs gave a commencement speech for Stanford University in 2005.  In his speech, Jobs informed the crowd that although they were new and young now, eventually they would age and become old.  He remarked that everybody dies and life progresses at a very quick pace.  He then made the comment that life was far too short to live another person’s life.  He was right.  And it is my job as a parent to make sure that my kids know such to be true.

I don’t know what kindergarten will look like next year for my son.  Don’t get me wrong.  There are a lot of great public schools, great teachers and great principals.  I was very fortunate to have many great ones myself.  The problems with my country’s schools, however, are not the faults of these people.  Perhaps, my family will have to seek out a way to pay for private schooling or maybe we will go the home school route.  I don’t know.  But whatever choice my husband and I decide on, we will make it with the expectation that we don’t want to prepare our children for a job, but instead to be more like Jobs.

This is the video of Steve Jobs giving his commencement speech at Stanford University.

Steve Jobs Commencement Speech

Categories: Day To Day, Parenting, Parenting types, Sticky Situations | Tags: , , , , | 3 Comments

Torpedo Boob

I woke up this morning…all by myself…without being awakened by the Mush Man.  I don’t know if you understand the magnitude of this experience.  I woke up because I was no longer tired; not because a little stowaway in my bed was no longer tired.  It was sinfully amazing!  I stretched in my sheets, smiled like an idiot and took some deep breaths.  Then, I went to roll over, and that is when I had a rude awakening.  Not only had I woken up of my own accord, but I had also not got up during the night, which is cool but…. MY LEFT BOOB FELT LIKE AN ENGAGED TORPEDO, READY TO EXPLODE AT ANY MINUTE!

I looked over at the Mush Man, and he was still completely asleep.  I didn’t know what to do.  Oh, the irony of sleeping a glorious six hours only to wake up and realize that your chest has inadvertently become a missile silo!  I was pissed, but determined to enjoy this “me” time because it probably would never, ever, ever, ever happen again.

Here were my options:

1.  Wake the baby up.  Yeah, right!  Who in their right mind wakes a sleeping baby?  I had some precious “me” time on my hands and was not about to end it by waking up a sleeping baby.  At least not at this point…

2.  Pump.  Yuck!  I don’t mind pumping.  Actually, I find it to be my own personal competition that I like to call the battle of the boobs…I know, I know TMI.  Anyways, pumping when you’re packing torpedoes in your bra sucks.  Your boob doesn’t fit in the little cup the right way and is hyper sensitive.  Not to mention, I hate the noise that the pump makes.  To me, it sounds like it is chanting “you suck, you suck, you suck” in some creepy Manson-esque voice.  Weird, I know.  So pumping was out of the picture.

3.  Hand expression.  Yeah, I can’t actually do this.  My boobs basically are on strike unless a baby or loud “you suck” chanting machine is in their presence.

4.  Let it all hang out:  It was cold!  For the first morning in forever, it was freezing!  I didn’t need a torpedo that was cold enough to cut glass, so that was out.

5.  Shower:  Winner, winner chicken dinner!

Just as I started to get out of bed to shower, the Mush Man began to stir.  Sweet!  A nice long nursing session after having slept all night would be a thousand times better than a shower.  I whipped out the torpedo, the Mush Man latched on and….HE WENT BACK TO SLEEP!  What kind of cruel , sick child had I raised?  I tried to wake him up.  Nothing!  He actually had the nerve to unlatch and turn his head.

Alright, not a problem.  I could still enjoy my “me” time.  I decided to quietly get out of bed to sneak into the shower, but I swear the moment I moved the blankets, my husband walked into the bedroom and went into the shower.  GRRRR!

That was the last straw.  I broke my cardinal rule of not waking up a sleeping baby.  I opened the blinds, flung open the sliding door and pulled the covers off of the little booger.  Guess what?  NOTHING HAPPENED!  This is the same kid who wakes upon me turning a door knob or blinking!  Today, I probably could have performed Hairspray in my bedroom, on the bed, and he wouldn’t have flinched!

My husband was still in the shower, so I decided to go downstairs to make myself breakfast.  I would be the martyr, enjoying “me” time in pain.  But then…

“Mom, can you turn on a show for me!”

The Monkey Boy, the killer of silence, bounded up the stairs.  Instantly, the Mush Man’s eyes opened.  I walked down the stairs, turned on Handy Manny and on my way back, heard the Mush Man began to cry a little.  HALLELUJAH!  I bounded up the stairs, ecstatic at the notion of being able to disengage the missile silo.

I slid in to bed, the Mush Man latched on and peace was restored to my bra.




Categories: Day To Day, Parenting | Tags: | 1 Comment

Why We Need Mommy Bloggers: Good & Bad Alike

I came across a blog yesterday that stuck with me.  In this blog, the author, who does not refer to herself as a “mom blogger” because she dislikes the title, discussed the downfalls and shortcomings of mom blogs.  In her post, the author complained about the misinformation generated by mom blogs; particularly bloggers who were not very experienced parents.  The blogger went on to point out how some blogs seem to exist solely for the purpose of creating controversy, and that many bloggers today seemed more interested in generating page views and money than actually helping mothers.  The author more or less ended her post with the notion that perhaps it was time for the mom blog to die, and in the future she will at the very least avoid reading information posted by Babble.

I appreciate this author’s point of view; however, I feel just the opposite.  Let me start by explaining why I became a mom blogger, and no, I don’t mind the title.  I started this blog because I needed/wanted a creative outlet.  Originally, I didn’t know exactly what this blog would become.  Advice? Hot topics? Personal anecdotes?  I really didn’t know.  Eventually, I found my niche was sharing humorous stories and lists revolving around motherhood in general, and since, then I have generated a small group of followers; followers who I deeply appreciate and respect.  I like the idea that the posts that I create allow parents a certain level of escapism.  I feel like I have created a nice, symbiotic little system here, and for the most part, I think the majority of mom bloggers feel or want the same.

The root of my opposition to this blogger’s view point lies in the idea that it is better to have all sorts of viewpoints than to have none at all.  I would rather shuffle and grumble through “bad blogs” with “bad advice” than to have the only available outlets for support and advice be close friends, families and bookstores.  Sure, you are going to have crappy advice and ideologies make their way onto the computer screens of unsuspecting mothers; however, you will also have the exact opposite occur.  You have really great blogs with really great information make their way into households that might have never found that information anyplace else.  Let’s face it, information on the internet is free, and even though I have gotten some great freebies in life, I have also gotten some pretty crappy ones.  The difference is that I make the decision about what to put on my mantle at the end of the day.

I don’t mind reading advice given by inexperienced mothers or parents.  Why?  Well, I have met a lot of idiots with a lot of experience, and I have also met a lot of newbies that were eons ahead of their time in the parenting department.  And if that was the case, I would rather take advice from the newbie who is inspired by parenting than listen to the insipid rants of an experienced professional mom.  Time and experience don’t make the advice good or bad; it’s the quality of what is being said that determines the worth of the information.  Additionally, isn’t listening to bad advice almost as good as listening to good advice?  Bad advice at the very least usually produces a laugh or an interesting discussion.

Furthermore, I dislike the idea that caring about page views and receiving payment for blogs is viewed as being negative.  I don’t currently get an overabundance of page views, but you can bet that I pay attention to them.  Why?  Because I take pride in it.  I take pride in knowing that my little post made somebody happy in Australia.  I feel good when I know that someone in Sweden has experienced the same bizarre parenting fiascos that I have.  It is a reminder that although the world seems huge and at times scary, there is an interconnectedness of the mothering experience that makes the world seem warm and less frightening.  I don’t get paid to write my blog, but if somebody offered me money to do what I am doing now and allowed me to write the same way I do now, I would do it.  And there is nothing wrong with that.  I don’t knock my hairstylist for handing me a bill, just like I wouldn’t knock a mom for earning a living online.  There is a difference between getting paid to do something that you love to do and giving up your creative and personal integrity for the sake of a paycheck.

I think when you go out on the internet in search for anything parenting related or for that matter anything life related, you have to learn to cherry pick.  Just because there is bad information out there doesn’t mean that people are going to take it to heart, and that same theory goes for the good information too.  Sure, there are sites that pretend to have the best intentions for new mothers when in fact they are sponsored by companies that value the profit more than the parent; however, such is life.  Parenting can be a very lonely world sometimes, and as silly as it may be to some, these blogs and websites help fill voids that need filling.  And quite frankly, I am glad they are there.

Yes, there are certain blogs that I think are dumb, idiotic, ridiculous and pointless, but at the end of the day, who cares if they exist?  I care more about the fact that there are just as many wonderful sites and bloggers to provide alternative view points.  I am glad that for every yin there is a yang, and I don’t blame bloggers, no matter how crappy they are, for the choices that parents make.  Because remember, if you see a typo, it’s not because the computer made me do it.  My mistakes are my own.

Categories: Day To Day, Sticky Situations | Tags: , , | 3 Comments