The Listen to Your Mother Show in San Francisco is done. Whew. I’m back home. And now my fellow cast member moms are doing what we did before: thinking and writing about parenting on the Internet. Why is it that this medium seems to work so well with us? Is it the stop start of mothering in the first place?
Write a thought. Make a lunch. Write a thought. Drop someone off. Write.
I seem to remember a passage in Ariel Gore’s How to Become a Famous Writer Before You’re Dead where she discusses writing in the car at traffic stops with a child strapped in her car seat in back. Do mothers start up their own blogs because they have no time for publishers? If they waited to find time for one their writing would never see the light of day? Quite possibly.
One of the best moments of becoming a cast member was that this cast was really built by moms of the Internet. Once the cast was assembled (many by and large had used their various blog posts to audition for the show) we were all given links to each other’s blogs. We literally got to know each other between our month long absences from each other, through the Internet.
Someone said recently that moms on the Internet was done. Finished. Stick a fork in it finished. No niche there. Move along there’s nothing to see, finished.
But not quite.
It might seem terribly isolationist but getting to know someone through a blog rather than through a playdate for toddlers or a playgroup works better for me.
I remember a weird moment at rehearsal when I realized that I’d been reading Rhianna’s posts on Huffingtonpost for months and here she was, sitting next to me. It felt like I knew her. http://www.listentoyourmothershow.com/sanfrancisco/ .
Some argue frequently that ‘mommy bloggers’ that horribly cute name given to women who happen to write and happen to have children and happen to make observations of where those aspects of their lives intersect, are really just today’s scrapbookers. And who really cares about other people’s children and experience?
If you’ve ever had the unfortunate experience of being the isolated 40 year old mom in a room of 20 year old moms, or if you’ve ever watched in silence as parents in the bleachers of a Little League game act like they are out for blood, or if you ever whipped out your breast to feed someone in public only to be sneered at–you know the power of finding someone out there that will comfort you and tell you you are not alone. You feel that way too.
I remember how isolating reading What to Expect When Your Expecting and the rest of that horrible series of culturally biased perspectives that did not fit my life. I remember the moment I found The Hip Mama Survival Guide and realized that yes, people like me could do this parenting thing.
Okay. I can hear my grandmother nagging me in the back of my brain. She’s saying what she always says. The problem with your generation, Margaret, is that you all over think this whole thing. In our day, we just had kids.
That might be true. But all the same, I’m glad all those other mothers are out there on the Internet adding to the conversation of what it means to be a mother. Now.
Happy Mother’s Day.