When I read blogs that talk openly and honestly about motherhood, I’m hooked. Â I love the full-portrait of parenting, rather than just the Facebook highlights. Â That’s my opinion. Â Of course, I say potato, and a mommy blogger on Babycenter says po-tah-toe. Â Instead, she wants to know when it became so cool to complain and asks us to snap out of it.
Calling all miserable moms, why so blue?
Every time I hop on a mommy blog, Iâm hit with posts bemoaning motherhood. Posts with titles such as â7 Reasons I Hate Play Dates,â or âBeing a New Mom Is Far From a Dream Come Trueâ lead me through a series of grumblings by glum mamas.
Side note: does anyone else think she reads Mommyish daily? Â I’m pretty sure all of her poking fun post titles have run here. Â She goes on to say those feelings are valid, before spending hundreds of words invalidating them (it’s kind of worth the whole read if you are feeling ranty).
While all of these feelings are valid, and as a mom of three kids ages 5 and under, I truly relate to the daily challenges of motherhood. But I canât help but wonder: Where have all the good times gone?
Off the top of my head, I would give the following answers:
- Hallmark cards
- cheesy movies like Definitely, Maybe (most together, creative, patient single dad EVER).
- the 1950s
Maybe I am really out of touch, but I haven’t seen a whole lot of these posts outside of Mommyish. Â And the way she talks about it, she clearly feels there are lots of them that I’m missing out on. Â I hope she tweets me some links.Â Truth be told, I don’t know this woman from any other female riding the subway with a stroller along side me. Â But I do know why I write the content I write.
Being a mother is not a wholly miserable endeavor. Â But for those of us who dream of having children and babysat for decades, there’s a fantasy that being a mother will come so easily and naturally without ever having to read a book, or call a nursing hotline or page your pediatrician. Â So when reality screws with those expectations, it can be a shock to the system. Â What do you mean babies don’t actually sleep like babies? Â Why didn’t anyone tell me that a day when I can shower without someone else watching the baby will feel like my biggest success?
Talking about the amazing parts of motherhood, for me, is like writing a story about eating an ice cream cone. Â It is a given that ice cream is delicious and wonderful and blissful. Â No one has ever eaten ice cream and said, “this is terrible!” “Why didn’t anyone tell me it was so cold?” Â No, eating ice cream is purely and wholly amazing. Â Just like the first time you witness your child’s first steps or he tells you he loves you or she makes you wholeheartedly laugh with her own thoughts and words. Â I don’t need to talk about those things because they are universal.
Until recently, that was all people ever talked about — newborn smell and school picture days, but nothing in between. Â Of course the problem with talking about the “bad” things is those negative aspects of parenthood aren’t universal. Â So when I spill my guts about my boob loss, someone may not get it at all. Â They may have bigger boobs after their kids. Â Or when Drew Barrymore talks about facial hair, I can’t say I had any too. Â But I am ALL for these discussions. Â Even if I don’t relate personally, I love to hear them. Â I love to hear people speak honestly and openly about parenthood. Â Unlike the Babycenter post I am not going to call on you to give me the pure joy of parenting. Â Give me the ugly, the bad, and the worst. Â We’ll share a glass of wine, go home and forget it all. Â Because finding you’re not alone in the rough parts, makes the good ones so much sweeter.