Scores of Twitter mums descended on a hotel in London for a “conference” on Mummy blogging last weekend. How do I know this if I didn’t attend? Because it’s ALL they constantly tweet about. They tweeted about the anticipation before the event; they tweeted during the day, to each other when it transpires they were seated next to each other, then afterwards in the hotel rooms. We heard about their arrival home, they share with us the details of their goody bags, the concession stands, the new people they met and the new things they learnt to send their blog into celeb-dom? Not only their tweets, we also get to share their photos and the subsequent blog posts by the millions.
Firstly, I have no issue with being a mummy or discussing with other mummies what it’s like to be a mummy.
Secondly, I’m a friend of blogging. It is for me, a release for unhappiness or concern, a record of my emotions during events in my life, that I may forget or just to share kooky things with anyone that may be bored enough to bother reading.
I do NOT rate my ability to write or convey what I intend. The post in my head is never what appears on screen. Numbers are my “thang” I’m a mathematician and have always struggled with writing or analysing the written work of others. My only success with words academically, was a full scoring essay on digestion for A Level Biology. I could memorise and regurgitate (check out my joke) a factual flowchart. It’s hardly a creative marvel.
I do NOT expect other people to care for my views, to be interested in anything I have to say or to understand my ramblings, which at best, just about make sense to me. Blogging is a hobby, something to keep my mind slightly active on my maternity leave.
Even though my significant other knows how much I enjoy blogging, if I told him I was off London for the weekend, leaving him with the tribe because I had spent £100 on entrance to a blogging convention, he would think I’d gone slightly nutty.
I could be wrong but my understanding of these mummy bloggers is they hope to earn money from reviewing products? Maybe it’s just to earn respect from their mummy community by writing accounts of what wonderful parents they are? Maybe they like the idea of becoming a “writer” as so many on Twitter seem to classify themselves as?
I read many of these parenting blogs and although occasionally, some are endearing and heartfelt, they are mostly fake. I’m not suggesting the story itself is untrue, but I’m suggesting the front of the wholesome perfect parenting is. It’s like a new breed of Stepford wives. Even when they talk of difficulties within their relationships, it’s always done from an angle of being such a super-duper mum with an ungrateful neglectful spouse, that doesn’t appreciate how much energy they put into their organic fed, offspring.
They read the parenting books, eat and grow organic vegetables, make love solely to conceive and yap on about breastfeeding in public. They put the average mums to shame.
Everything about their posts are twee and naive, they either have lead and continue to do so, a sheltered wholesome life, or are bare faced lying to fit into the clique. When did the mummies become the new version of the high-school bitch?
Perhaps rather than waste money on a mummy-blog convention where they sat tweeting the person sat at the same table, they should have spent the money and used the babysitter on a decent well deserved night out? I would rather see the pictures of a tipsy mum, slumped in the pub with a flushed complexion, giddy from her white-wine spritzer, maybe an arm flung around her partner or sat amongst her female friends, than photo after photo of a group of strangers, bonded over their freebie babywipes.
Maybe if they put more thought, effort and time into their relationships and sex-lives than a Huggies nappy review, they wouldn’t feel the need to be online so much. Perhaps they should live their life rather than blog about their lack of it? And here is the craziest thought of all…instead of typing about your child, switch off the notebook and spend time with them?
Behind each mummy façade, the boredom and dissatisfaction seeps through.
Maybe I just come across in this post as bitter or jealously outside of the clique? Maybe I like to use my social networking as escapism rather than having to read constantly about children or maybe this new breed make me feel inadequate as a mother? I haven’t yet deciphered my feelings but I know I feel incredibly irked.
The Mommy Blogger Backlash by Eric Matas
“Now mommy blogging is under fire. A mommy blogger’s son recently died, and the story seems to be that she was busy on Twitter all day instead of preventing her son from falling into the pool. “