Why This Blog, and Why Now?

There are reasons I waited until all of my kids were in school to start a blog.

1. Let’s start with the term “Mommy Blog”, from this point forward banned on this site. I waited because I didn’t want to be called that. My distaste for the term stems from the fact that it is loaded with condescension. Any time society attaches “Mommy” to anything, the result is to minimize the importance of the second word. “Mommy Wars”, anyone? Just a silly little tiff among the hens. Ahem. “Mommy Business”? Oh, look how cute she is, playing like she’s a real grown up. Pat pat.

It bothers me because being a parent is the hardest job in the world, with dire consequences if you screw it up. And if you attach something else to that job as well? You are a hero.

If you have a blog, you are a writer. Or a business owner. Or a brand.  Or you’re really, really good at something like photography. You are a person with talent, drive, and passion. You might also happen to be a parent. And I’ll bet you are a damn good one.  Own it, and let’s move on.

2. I had no desire to write about the years of infancy and toddlerhood. With a few exceptions, it’s the same for all of us. Poop, diapers, naps, drool, spit up. Lather, rinse, repeat.  Though rife with funny stories, those years were pretty easy for me because my kids were all good sleepers. They weren’t horrible, and I never felt the need to knock back a couple of margaritas at a 10 a.m. playgroup. (I know, I know, go ahead and hate me.  But never underestimate the power of a good night’s sleep.)  Anyhow, there are others out there who write in that genre, and they are really funny and talented! So they’ve got that area covered.

3. I have always been a writer, but I back-burnered it  even before kids because it wasn’t my career path. And also there was that one college advisor who “advised” me to not even try to get into my college’s journalism program. I believe his exact words were, “You’ll never make it, so don’t even try.”  Excuse me while I jump in my DeLorean to go back and slap him.

Okay, I’m back now. God, I’ve wanted to do that for years. Anyhow, growing up, I wanted to be Erma Bombeck. (Well, not be her, exactly. I’m not talking about “single white female” or anything. That would just be creepy.) Then I wanted to be Dave Barry. (Also not literally.) But you get the idea. Working on my high school yearbook and newspaper convinced me I would be a journalist. In college, I was great at cranking out papers while standing up with one foot out the door, typing madly 10 minutes before class started. A’s abounded, though whether because of my mad writing skills or because I was a master of BS I’m not sure. Let’s go with the first one, okay?

Where was I going with this? Oh, yes. I am a writer. Always have been. If I wasn’t writing, I was thinking about writing.

Fast forward through my post-college corporate years, to my life as a parent.   I discovered that freelance copywriting allowed me do not only write from home, on my terms, but get also paid for it. Snoopy dance! And the subject matter was different for every assignment, perfect for someone with a tiny attention span. (I’m not kidding about this. At this point, my attention span could fit into the little box in my junk drawer that I keep paperclips in. With room left over for the paperclips.) So I was back! Back to what I was meant to do.

4. Fear. Fear of putting myself out there. Fear of violating my family’s privacy. Fear of the mean people out in “anonymous” land who attack via the comments section. (Pleeeaase don’t do this, mean comments people! Play nice.)

Finally the time was right, so this blog was born.  The name “Notes from the Shallow End” comes from my summers, eleven and counting, on the “shallow end” side of the pool. There are people on the other side, but I’ve never met them. They have older kids, so while we at the shallow end sling juice boxes and help our kids hoist up wet bathing suits after potty breaks, they lounge on the other side, probably getting pedicures and swilling Veuve Clicquot. Kind of like Goldie Hawn at the beginning of Overboard.

So join me in this new endeavor. Raise a glass with me to the coming years, won’t you? They’re going to be great.

Comments

  1. This was very funny.I loathe “Mommy” anything as well. I love being a parent, but I like to be seen as a whole person. It also allows you to write about whatever the hell you want to write about. Good luck on your blogging travels!

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