I am a Mommy Blogger…I guess. I mean, if we have to pigeon hole my blog, you could stick me in that little cube with all the other Mommys who have blogs. If you REALLY HAD to define me. Although I like to think I’m more than just a Mommy who blogs. But that’s a tangent I’m not going to go down at this moment.
BUT…
Just to be VERY clear…
When you come to my blog.
You will not read about what was found inside a child’s diaper. Not EVER.
What you MAY read about, however, is all the gross underwear that I find under my kids beds that I have to actually touch in order to degross the nasty. Or the fact that my kids have been potty trained for 10 years, yet CONSTANTLY forget to flush the toilet. Which always makes a tasty feast for the dog. *dry heave*
You will NOT read about my napping with my angelic baby whilst breathing in it’s sweet milky breath.
Nope. Because there isn’t a single angel OR baby, living in my house, napping or otherwise. And the breath. NOT sweet OR milky. Try rotten cheese breath emanating from monsters who think brushing their teeth is an idea spawned from Satan.
You will definitely NOT read about getting my babies on schedules.
Because my babies were NEVER on schedules. Then OR now. Which leaves me with nothing to discuss or contribute to discussions. Because schedules…suck. Well, for me they do. Besides. I am a firm believer that my kids should be on my schedule anyways. So there Supernanny.
I will never talk about fussy babies here. Nope. No fussy babies in my home.
What we have. What I will talk about. Demonically possessed soldiers of the Underworld that masquerade as the fruit of my hard labor. With voices so high pitched that causes all dogs and cats to run in the opposite direction, away from the noise. With voices so screechy that squirrels and birds drop from trees as though they have been electrocuted.
Yes. That is the fussy that we have in my little corner of the street.
And burping. Something that many a mother have problems getting their children to do. Oh man. Not here. We have all sorts of burping. And all sorts of farting. Loud. Bubbly. Wet. Glurpy. Nasty. Yes. Home Sweet Home.
Then we have a little thing called time outs. Which…you won’t ever find a discussion going on here regarding that matter. Because time outs. Those don’t work. Not. At. All. Spanking. Fuh-git about it. I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again.
I don’t control my children. My children control me. And they run amok. Like lice infestation in the schools. THAT describes my children.
I could go on. And on. But I fear that you’d be so jealous of my life. And I wouldn’t want to rub your nose in the perfections of my imperfections.
So. Pigeon-hole away. I AM a Mommy. I blog. So therefore, I am a Mommy Blogger. I guess.
Ha! My kids run the house here, too. (I blame this on their father.)
I am a mommy (sans babies and diapers) and a blogger. But good heavens there’s no way you could call my a mommy blogger. I hardly ever blog about my heathens. In fact, I do believe my old blog contained more posts to Brett Favre than about my own children.
Not that I have anything against mommy blogs, I just don’t have one of those. (Not even close).
I like your blog, regardless of it’s lack of pigeon hole. I read what I like. (And most of what I like tends to be “category-less” anyway. )
amen.
I was gonna say Amen as well, but somebody beat me to it. Haha! That is one of the reasons I follow your blog. I love to read a lot of diverse blogs including but not limited to a few stereotypical mommy blogs. I do get tired of those at times, so that’s when I come over here (LOL) or to my non-mommy blog friends blogs. Whew that was a mouth full.
Seriously, try saying it: non-mommy blog friends blogs
your post cracks me up. but from a single gal mommyhood sounds interesting but scary at the same time.
Hahaha! What a nice tribute to all non-mommy-blogger mommy bloggers out there! I am not a mom yet but expectations are being held pretty high in the blogosphere these days with the plethora of so many ooey, gooey, lovey, dovey mommy blogs. It is nice to hear some reality.
Stopping by from SITS!
Yes, but can your kid burp the alphabet while farting between letters?
I have the same problem. My kids are way, way past all that, but still most of the people I have met out here that I really get along with and identify with are considered mommybloggers and I love them all to death. Even if I am years past diapers and toddlers and teenagers. I guess maybe once a mom always a mom? Mostly I don’t like the title Grandmablogger…it makes me sound way to old. heh.
I love how you attack this…like…like…attacking the lice infestation with that little girl’s brush from the far row over there, you know the one, the one who’s always scratching!
No, really, the pigeon hole sucks. But you my mighty dear, so do not! Write on brave happen to be mama.
What is it about kids and flushing the toilet? Drives me up the wall.
And I don’t think I’ve ever blogged about the contents of a child’s nappy, but don’t hold me to that.
Well said woman! I love it!
Kids mess it all up right?? 🙂 You def crack me up..
and I am so over diapers.. I just wish my kids were at this point
Who cares what kind of blogs are what. I read and if I like it I come back, regardless of its contents. I don’t get the whole classification thing really.
Thanks for being honest. Tired of all the lace-trimmed, powder-fresh-smelling stories written elsewhere.
And that is why I love coming here.
hugely jealous, but I am striving to overcome it because I lurves you so much. I would be happy to send some milky-breathed-poopinator your way if you ever run out of post material.
I try not to categorize anyone. I can’t even categorize myself.
(Although you describe the situation in our house quite well.)
You’re my friend who has a blog that I always enjoy reading and have missed very much. And you happen to be a mommy. 🙂
People with angelic children are too busy being happy to blog. Although they sure as hell must have a lot more time on their hands to do it.
YES!! I thought I was the only mother that threw schedules out the window once the twins were 6 months old! Hallelujah to spontaneity and a crazy life! Thank you for confirming that children are NOT little angels, but partly demonic possessed life forms that we spawned from our wombs after a 5 minute moment of pleasure.
And there are NO books that have been written for our such kind.
“The perfection of my imperfections…”
You, m’lady, are PERFECT. Most children are just evil with a cute face anyway, right ;)?!
This is why I drink. I’ll happily crawl in the pigeon hold with ya!
oh, the hole too … sheesh… I’m high on Advil cold and sinus…