With pregnancy sneaking up on my demographic, peer group, and blog roll, I am revisiting the term “Mommy Blogger” and trying to ascertain exactly what it is that repulses me so much about the Mommy Blogs. 

“Please don’t become a mommy blogger!!” is a sentiment I’ve seen expressed in the comment section on blogs I read regularly. 

I’ve also read lengthy discussions on these blogs about the etymology of the Mommy Blogger.  People wonder, is blogging about your kid a crime?  Is it so wrong to want to share cute pictures and developmental milestones in your child’s/children’s lives?  If I blog about my kid(s), am I automatically a Mommy Blogger?  I wondered if maybe it wasn’t just the jealousy of those not reproducing yet.

I’d seen it before, in college, when one of my friend group would start dating, and the rest of us would harbor resentment towards her and the boyfriend, individually, and collectively.  It wasn’t fair, to expect we’d all stay single, or all be simultaneously dating.  I understood we were afraid of “losing” her to the guy, that she’d be so sucked into “we” time, and forget to spend time with her friends.  Until she broke up with the guy and needed our support, of course. 

But no, I’ve decided, it’s not even that.  It’s not the jealousy of non-breeders, or not-yet breeders.  It’s not the fear you’ll never go party with her once she has kids and a house in the suburbs.  Or that she’ll never blog about anything besides her baby’s bowel movements again.  What I believe bothers me most about Mommy Bloggers is that they seem to lose who they are – who they were before they became mothers. 

To become a mother is to define yourself in terms of someone else.  The Baby.  Becoming a wife or a girlfriend is also an identity in terms of someone else,  but to women, babies are all-consuming, in time and energy.  Obsessed with exuding idealized versions of motherhood, we erase what made us special before we got knocked up.  We lose our “me-ness”. 

Or we are in danger of losing our “me-ness” if we let ourselves become the equivalent of Mommy Bloggers.  It’s not that blogging about your kid(s) is inherently offensive.  Or bad.  Or wrong.  Or isolating to your readership.  I’m as drawn to baby pictures as my hormones will allow (I cry easily at Johnson & Johnson commercials at this point in my pregnancy).  I won’t be able to ignore my burgeoning belly as I continue to blog, nor the beings that exit my womb in December (yes, December is when the parasites are due).  But I hope won’t lose track of who I am. 

I am a daughter who is working out issues with her mother.  I am a coworker who loves to bring in baked goods to sabotage people’s diets.  I am a crafter/seamstress who makes her own clothing and sometimes shares her crafts at craft fairs.  I am a speech-language pathologist who cannot resist a small child with a speech delay.  I am a dog person who thinks Cesar Milan is a puffed-up Oprah minion.  I am a short woman who has difficulty finding a bra.  I am a person who had brain surgery in 2004 and is still afraid to have a single alcoholic drink for fear it will lower my seizure threshold.  I am a lover of antiques and vintage clothing.  I am a collector of shoes and Anthropologie skirts.  I am a reader.  I am a painter of fingernails in bright colors.  I am a consumer of vast quantities of chocolate.  I am all of these people now, and I will continue to be all of these people after I add “mother of twins” to my resume.  But I will never be only a mother, and I will try my hardest to remember who I am as a being separate from my dogs, husband, and children. 

Some time ago, on Craftster.org, I began to become irked by some of the profile signatures I’d see which read something like: “SAHM to 4, army wife”. 

And I wanted to say, “Yeah, but who are you?”

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