Motherblogs: Do you need to Pepys?

For those who have made the perilous passage,  becoming and enduring as a parent is the great adventure of ones adult lifetime, a magical mystery tour with no posted stops or scripted ending. Or at least that’s what the brochure says. With its staggering profundity and mind-numbing repetition, you realize (too late!) that by becoming a parent you have also just entered the ultimate triathalon, taxing your health, sanity and soul — a grueling test of character spanning the rest of your lifetime.  It’s as if the first leg of the Tour de France was up the side of Mount Everest, to be followed by a time trial to Mars. For those who have not made the journey, it’s impossible to put into words.

Until the advent of the Motherblog, that is.

Not the Mother of all blogs (there’s a nice picture of him below) but the Motherblog, which chronicles the pilgrimage from me to we with the ditzy self-absorption that can only come from someone whose brain is being tsunamied with mind-altering hormones.  In the past, such rantings were contained to localized outburts at La Leche League meetings. Now,  no aspect of the journey no matter how deeply personal or profoundly intestinal is the subject of a few hundred thousand words. Every day. Perhaps even every hour of every day.

For example, say you are a new mom with a stoppered tot. Plenty of blogs cater to your needs to share this startling turn of events. On one of those sites, you might well write:

“… Zoltar is having constipation problem since we moved here.. We gave her stool softener, laxatives, took her to doc which ended up having miralax everyday and not drinking milk at all and the problem is still there. Last week we thought of giving a last try and decided to put medicine in the other end before taking her to doc who we know would want us to go for some strong meds…”

Is this the ultimate legacy of Samuel Pepys?   If you were Zoltar (I have changed the name to protect the innocent) can you imagine reviewing this as a mature 18 year-old (with presumably a high-fiber diet)? No, of course not. Even Zoltar isn’t interested. If a blocked baby blog falls in the forest, does anyone hear it?

This is, of course, the yin and yang,  risk and reward of blogging. You now have an infinitely larger potential audience, but that audience can chose to ignore you. Globally.

Luckily, there is a potential solution. It’s the same solution that usually works whenever we have an abundance of something that no one wants. We just need to brand Motherblogs © ® ™.  Couldn’t we connect thousands of unemployed journalists with the motherblogistas to punch them up? Eh, I mean punch up their blogs?

For example:

Tabloid style:

“… friends indicated that after an all-night drinking binge, the hard pAArtying Zoltar remains sluggish and unresponsive. Investigating reports of incoherent screaming coming day and night from his crib, police report the presence of prescription meds and a topless woman…”

Fox News Style:

“… subsidizing the cost of medication is not the answer to this problem. If Zoltar is so foolish as to get himself into a jam, he should have the intestinal fortitude to get himself out of this predicament. When will the liberals stop babying people like Zoltar …”

NY Times Style:

“… His face grimacing in pain, his bedclothes strewn about the room, Mr. Zoltar may well require a complex amalgamation of physical therapy, medication and counseling to resolve the issues currently facing him. Unable to comment directly, Zoltar indicated through his representatives that he was extemely distressed over recent events …”

We need to help all MotherBlogs realize their full potential. Self-awareness is like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon for the new parent. It takes time. Within the first year, one starts to dimly perceive that the entire world may actually not be interested in a real-time recitation of the progress of your precious mini-me. Secretly, new parents take solace in the fact that although “stories about the baby” may not entertain a  general audience in hour number two, but in your very special inner circle of newborn parents who are also parents of newborns you share an intense delight in sharing such material. In fact, five years into the parental role, you will realize that no one is actually listening in these exhanges, they are merely waiting to start their serial monologue, usually with “…yes, well that’s exactly like…” which likely will have nothing to do whatsoever with what preceded it, as they really weren’t listening. Which of course, you won’t catch, because you are not listening either. This can come as a quite a disappointment. With your fellow parents, of course.

The situation can become far worse when in conversation with non-breeders. Puerile by Proxy, is a condition by which a child-free participant interrupts the sui generis child monologue with a declaration of bathos, announcing: “Well, I know exactly what you mean. I have cats, and in many ways they are exactly like children. ”

Well, not exactly. True , both will bring you things they have killed for approval and attention (see Norman Bates, for example), but unless the aspirational goal for your child is to have her star in a home movie where she uses the toilet rather than the litter box, I think it best to compare having pets to taking care of an invalid albeit a cute invalid, and one that doesn’t reminisce.

Still, I think there is a time and place to celebrate Fido’s every bon mot. The time is later, and the place is a pet blog (or PetBlog © ® ™). Where there is likely great advice for a clogged Corgi or bottled Boxer.

The Root Cause of Blogging

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