So, why'd you start blogging? The morning show host at Great Day Green Country asked me during the commercial break before my segment. It was only a two and half minute break, so I didn't have time to tell my whole "Why I Blog" story, so I said, "I needed to know I wasn't alone." Then I promised her the whole story on my blog. I'm a traffic-driver if nothing else.
So ... This is why I started blogging.
There are countless books that paint pretty Norman Rockwell-like pictures of family life. I’d read them all. I was prepared for anything and everything because I had read all the books.
Then I woke up and discovered my child had painted a Picasso on her wall during the night using nothing but her hands and her own poopy diaper.
Do I clean her first or the wall first? Do I call poison control in case she ingested her own waste? Do I take a picture and scrapbook it? Will that scrapbook page be fodder for future therapy? Do I ignore the whole thing and send her daddy in after her and let him deal?
The poop-on-the-wall fiasco was not covered in any of my parenting books that were dog-eared, drooled on, and dropped beside my bed. I assumed, at that time, that I had been the only mother since Eve spawned Cain and Abel to ever have had this poopy-wall episode as a part of her mothering repertoire. And I hung my head in shame. And exhaustion. More exhaustion than shame to be sure.
At my older child’s dance class that same week, I confessed that my baby had smeared her poop on her wall. I was looking for confirmation that I wasn’t raising Linda Blair. Today poop; tomorrow pea soup. I was met with silence.
Then I caught one fellow mom’s eye. “My baby picked her nose and fed me the booger. I ate it.” I snickered at her after-nap snack choice.
Another mom confessed next, “When I’m taking a bath, I let my baby play in the toilet so he’ll leave me the hell alone.” I laughed. Not at her, with her.
Finally, the snootiest of all moms in the waiting room said, as she adjusted her Coach purse in her lap and examined her 83-karat diamond wedding ring, “Ethan dumped his entire lunch from the table and then started eating it off the floor. I didn’t stop him.”
We all laughed our fool-heads off. That kind of parenting is not discussed in a single one of those parenting books. But it should've been.
Why we choose to not share the funny, punny, quirky, and inappropriate with each other more often is a mystery to me that probably has to be archaic in nature. I’m sure we don’t talk about our kids catching us having sex (and punching my butt to boot!) for the same reason Lucy and Ricky had separate beds on TV. We like to keep our stories clean.
So, I started to blog to share the insanity that is motherhood. I choose to share the funny, punny, quirky, and inappropriate with my readers so that they will know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that it’s gonna be alright even when their child announces to the entire dining room at the neighborhood bar and grill that her momma has hairy armpits.
I do not always keep my stories clean. I tell my stories as they happened, often times leaving in details that make my mother scold me and my mother-in-law ignore me. I tell my stories with all their gory details. I tell them so that someone else can relate and not feel so alone when her child punches her on her butt during an entirely intimate smooshing. (C’mon. Don’t tell me it hasn’t happened to you. But if it hasn’t happened to you, what kind of lock is on your bedroom door, if you don’t mind my asking. I’m in the market.)
But I tell my stories, ultimately, to make people laugh.
And I wish someone had made me laugh when I was a brand new momma.
Today, I hope to make a brand new momma laugh--and giddy with all the bling I'm about to giveaway!
Up for giveaway are the following items:
Color: Blue and white striped
Blonde child with mullet, not included
|Quantity: 1 set|
Will not work on wine bottles ... no matter how much you try
Color: Grey--but only one shade of Grey; you have a baby for heaven's sake
Signed by yours truly
Don't try to sell the signed copy on Craiglist.
You won't get more than fifty cents.
Don't ask me how I know.
TMI Mom Oversharing My Life - a funny collection of humorous essays about parenting, wife-ing (What? It's a word!) and living a laughter-filled life by funny mommy blogger, Heather Davis (Yeah, yeah, yeah--it's me!)
Use this Rafflecopter to enter to win this great Baby Swag Bag!