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Why I don’t read mommyblogs

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(Photoillustration Abigail Miller/Tablet Magazine. Original

Not long ago I saw I was included in a roundup of “top Jewish mommybloggers.” And what I felt, immediately and viscerally, was horror.

The very word “mommyblog” makes me cringe. When my children’s doctors called me “mommy” (as in “Mommy, give her this liquid Augmentin twice a day,” invariably without adding “don’t be surprised if she projectile-vomits all over the kitchen,” the schmucks), I corrected them: “I have a name.” My children are welcome to call me mommy; when adults use it, the word sounds infantilizing.

And calling all writing about parenting mommyblogs is like calling all books with female protagonists chicklit. Chicklit is a dismissive catchall term for any book dealing with young women’s lives; it implies shallowness, consumerism, pink covers with shoes on them. But of course the word is used as a slam on all stories told by women about relationships. If Jane Austen were writing today, her book covers would be fuchsia and shoe-strewn. Why must we lump together all storytelling about love and women’s lives? How will we recognize the next Jane Austen (my vote: Jennifer Weiner) if all books about women’s perspectives are treated exactly the same way (i.e., trivializingly)?

But if I’m being honest with myself, I’m doing the same thing when I flinch at being called a mommyblogger. Yes, to a degree I wince because most mommyblogs suck. They aren’t crafted. The writing is frequently a spew of gushy listen-to-the-hilarious-thing-my-child-said-today cooing and Andy-Rooney-style kvetching. And my life is short; I do not need to see little Hannah dancing to Beyoncé. But it is a truth universally acknowledged that a parent in possession of a Flip camcorder must be in want of a blog.

And yet. Why are mommyblogs more annoying to me than the countless poorly written political blogs devoted to doctrinaire spittle-flecked ranty blathering? Why do they irk me more than the gazillion dull fashion blogs, sports blogs, geek blogs, and gossip blogs out there? Why do I occasionally read daddyblogs like Cynical Dad, Daddy Types, MetroDad, and RebelDad, but so few blogs by mothers? Is it because I’m sexist? Am I as bad as the chicklit-disparagers?

I’m gonna go with no. (Shocker.) I look to daddyblogs to provide perspective very different from mine. When it comes to being a mother, I know the drill. I don’t know from being a father. Men’s challenges around recreating identity as parents are different from women’s; they have to cope with societal expectations of dad-dom, which are different from the familiar ones (to me, anyway) about motherhood. I’m interested in how fathers who choose to write about fatherhood—and they’re way outnumbered by the mommies—share their experience.

The few mommybloggers I read also provide a window into worlds different from mine. I like A Little Pregnant, a blog about childrearing after a long, brutal struggle with infertility, and Love That Max, about raising a child with serious disabilities. I read Homeshuling, by an intermarried Jewish mother sending her children to Jewish Day School.

What all these bloggers have in common is that they’re all great communicators. They can write. They’re aware of the need to provide something readers can’t get elsewhere. Kvelling about your spawn? Zzzz. News flash: All parents think their kids are fascinating and enchanting. It’s a trick of God and/or evolution designed to prevent us from hitting them with a mallet.

To be clear, I don’t think anyone should stop blogging. I have a personal blog where I rant about standardized testing, the General Slocum disaster in 1904, and the fact that Glee’s Lea Michele looks exactly like David Duchovny in drag on Twin Peaks. But I don’t expect you to read my ramblings there. So, don’t ask me to read yours.

One more thing: There’s a reason so many mommybloggers have babies and toddlers. Tiny people have no expectation of privacy. Their stories are our stories. Even the line between their bodies and ours is blurry (especially when we’re breastfeeding). Blogging about them is almost invariably blogging about us.

But when kids get older, we have to figure out how much of that conjoined story is really ours to share. I loved Anne Lamott’s book Operating Instructions, the mommyblog ur-text. It was the first book most of us ever read that spoke honestly about how hard early motherhood could be, how often we entertain the flickering, momentary fantasy of throwing the baby against the wall. But when Anne Lamott started to write about Sam as an older child and as a teenager, I started to feel uncomfortable. I could barely read the column in which she describes slapping him across the face when he sneered about washing the car. Ayelet Waldman frequently has the same “eek” effect on me. (She herself said of her mommyblogging, “A blog like this is narcissism in its most obscene flowering.”) When she wrote about her son telling her he was afraid she’d kill herself I felt queasy.

But even as I’m personally squicked out, I can appreciate their work as writers. (Most bloggers, on the other hand, produce what Truman Capote said of Jack Kerouac’s work: “That’s not writing; that’s typing.”) Lamott and Waldman have craft. They’re not self-consciously poetess-y, and they’re not boring. They’re being specific rather than general. (Cue the Tolstoy “Happy families are all alike” quote.) Above all, they’re honest.

Which brings me to the heart of what I loathe about most mommyblogs: the dishonesty of not telling the full story. “Half the truth is often a great lie,” as Ben Franklin said. Most mommybloggers tacitly follow the unwritten but codified rules: Create a persona that’s exasperated but loving, pretending to be annoyed by one’s child but in a way that makes it clear that said child is a genius, indicate that you don’t sweat the small stuff and mock parents who do. This is writing as incantation, a magic amulet—it pushes the real, messy, nuanced world away instead of bringing it closer in all its terrors.

Maybe part of my scorn is fear that I do the same. I too refrain from touching certain third-rail subjects that could help other families. I try to be thoughtful and tough-minded (and yes, when something touches a nerve, I see both the risks and the rewards of true openness), but I always ask my family what I can share. (Shalom Bayit, baby, in a big extended-family way.) And self-censoring is a Franklinian half-truth.

But telling the whole truth is hard. I have infinite respect for Katie Allison Granju, another professional parenting writer, who has been blogging about her 18-year-old son’s death, in the aftermath of a brutal beating after a long battle with drug addiction. She’d been blogging for years without talking about his addiction, but when he was hospitalized, a month before he died, she opened up completely. Her posts on her own blog and in her column on Babble are raw, completely honest, heartbreaking. They’re proof that you can be a great parent and terrible things can still happen. No matter how we spin our narratives.

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seriously, thanks. not for the link so much as for your respect. (but also the link.) when people ask what i’m working on, i say that i’m writing “non fiction about jewish parenting.”

Gene says:

10:30 P.M. in Children’s Hospital, 30 years ago. The attending surgeon telling me my 11 year old needs an emergency appendectomy and constantly addressing me as Mummy. I address him as Poppy and demand another surgeon. The nurses smile and wink at me behind his back, cheering me on. A different surgeon operates.

This article is the most pompous, sanctimonious drivel I have read in a long time. It is one thing to feel that the sentimental blogs of many mothers aren’t for you. Your article goes far beyond that, to expressing your clear feelings of superiority of those bad writers, those “little women” who have nothing to contribute to cyberspace beyond funny anectdotes and bad home videos.

The exceptions that you list are excellent, but really aren’t exceptions. They are their own category of “mommy blogs.” A slew of ‘Mommy blogs’ (not one or two) that are insightful, often well-written, contemplative, contemporary. Mommy blogs that have taught me far more than this article, in fact far more than most of what I have read in Tablet.

Your article professes your own allergy to this genre, but I think it merely exposes your own ignorance to the full range of excellent mommyblogs. Putting down the whole category and dismissing it on the basis of what you consider to be its lowest commmon denominator is simply intellectual arrogance.

I personally see benefits to many of those mommyblogs (to the blogger and the readers) that you don’t discuss because perhaps you cannot appreciate them. However, this hardly seems to be the point.

There are intelligent, insightful, articulate women out there writing some very important pieces; writing them with the unique perspective of a mother. You have publicly dismissed them and put them down, insulted them and overgeneralized their content to a point that I hope you and your readers will reconsider. Otherwise, you and they are truly missing out.

Ima, I absolutely encourage readers to find parenting blogs they love, just as I have. And we all have different taste — that’s what makes horse races and interwebs. But I maintain that most mommyblogs are navel-gazy in a not-interesting way. I think the trick with ALL parenting writing is to wrestle with big issues honestly or be genuinely funny in a crafted way; preferably both. It’s rare to find that in books, let alone blogs. The great blessing and curse of self-publishing is that the barrier to entry is so low.

Thank you for this, Marjorie. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around my own ick reaction to mommyblogging and this covers so much of it. (I’ve never understood the compulsion to record every moment of my child’s life – once I’ve changed that diaper, I really don’t want to think about it again.)

In general though, I’m torn about the “genre.” I get that we need to talk more about motherhood in our culture, and do so more honestly. I wrote a blog post about Mother’s Day a while ago, and it generated more traffic than anything else I’ve ever said – clearly there’s a need out there.

As a feminist, I have trouble telling other women to stop talking about their experiences, however trite and however badly written. The fact that mommyblogging gets called out for navel-gazing more than, say, food blogging (equally trite much of the time), just reinforces the telescope we aim at motherhood. Still, ick.

And, as a feminist, I am equally troubled by the compulsion to embrace the mommy label as one’s sole identity, which can’t be avoided when you’re blogging about motherhood in this manner.

I’m glad you brought up the issue of privacy – to me, that’s the most appalling part of it all. I recall reading one blogger talk about how she managed a sex life while co-sleeping (and in great detail). Sure, it may have made other women feel better, or validated or whatever, with their own struggles, but I couldn’t help thinking about the child who would grow up and have to read not only about their parents’ sex life, but about their own proximity to it.

You would have done yourself and the Tablet readership a much bigger favor if you had highlighted the best of – and powerful potential of – mommyblogging at its best, rather than reduce the entire genre to its lowest common denominator in denegrating terms.

I do not fault you for having personal taste. I am simply suggesting that the overall tone of your article is to dismiss mothers who blog about motherhood. I can find countless examples of subjects that just don’t get the proper attention they deserve in other places. They aren’t good writers like you, writing about important stuff like you, so why should they be allowed into the party?

… What about the mommybloggers who are better writers than you, writing about issues that are more important than how much they hate mommyblogs? You have just written them off to an entire readership. This is where I find the problem to lie.

Have a personal opinion, go ahead! But using your position at Tablet to put down a whole category of writers because of your experience with the
“low barrier of entry” is offensive.

Isn’t the world of “mommyblogging” fascinating? So many views, glimpses into worlds you’d never otherwise see. That’s what I’ve found since diving in last summer. My site is about work/life issues, though some might call it a mommyblog, but as long as readers are getting something from it, monikers don’t bother me.

I’m glad they’re out there — let the readers choose what’s worthwhile to them.

All I know is that I laughed all the way through this article. And you’re right: there is no way in hell somebody can be objective about anything that came shooting out of their body, so mommyblogs can logically be looked at askance. Most writing in any genre is bad, and the barrier of entry IS low: any shmo with a keyboard and a modem (including yours truly, with her own business blog) can flop something out there. People are then free to read it, ignore it, and criticize it. That’s the price of admission.

Tziporah says:

Did you ever consider that many of those trite, uninteresting blogs are not meant for you? Most of the parents I know, who have small, personal blogs, write either for personal pleasure or to improve their writing. They write to share with family and friends incidents in their children’s lives across miles. Most “mommyblogs” are not interested in wrestling with great issues. Just because you think that is what parenting writing should be about doesn’t mean that you are right! This is such a condescending piece and I’m very surprised at you. Clearly you think you don’t “navel-gaze” yourself and yet many of your columns have not interested me at all. Blogging is, and forever will be, a very personal thing more like keeping a journal or diary. It is very different than a column.

I think you overestimate your talents. Your superiority and arrogance about your own writing will hamper your own growth. I don’t read mommyblogs. I don’t need to and I don’t have time. But I would never disparage those who record information for their own personal reasons. They don’t need (and I’m guessing most don’t want) your approval.

I am seriously disappointed in this article!

Great post, Marjorie! I never really thought about the implications that the term Chicklit has on books about women. While I enjoy reading “chicklit” books for light summer reads, we should really redefine the genre of women’s literature in order to be taken more seriously.

Marjorie, I’m kinda shocked at the negative response to your article, which I very much enjoyed. I’m of the opinions that you should get to say what you want about how you feel. I agree that there’s no quality control when it comes to blogging of any kind, not just mommyblogs. But as long as folks realize that not all (or even most) blogs are meant to be literary in nature (which I know you do), then quality control matters less. I don’t think the mommyblogs Tzipporah mentioned (reaching out to far-flung friends and family) are the ones you really meant. I could be wrong.

Anyway, I enjoyed this article. Thanks for sharing.

The paragraph beginning, “Which brings me to the heart of what I loathe about most mommyblogs…” is GOLD. I’m printing it out and sticking it to my monitor as an urgent, eloquent warning.

susan says:

Still waiting for the follow-up to the follow-up about how you can’t tell your kids about Israel. You are going to tell us exactly which of Israel’s policies you disagree with and what you think Israel should do instead. Otherwise, you appear to be against Israel because you think that as a lefty, hipster, that’s what your position should be.

Dinah says:

I write in response to the extremely negative tone of some of the responses to this article. I was quite shocked at such personal attacks masquerading as responses of more generous hearts or level headed brains. I liked the article and found most of it matched my own impressions of reading poorly written blogs about motherhood. I might have worded my own critique more strongly because although the paragraph beginning, “Which brings me to the heart of what I loathe about most mommyblogs: the dishonesty of not telling the full story”, describes the fakery, it doesn’t go as far as to say that along with the varieties of pretense is the biggest one of pretending not to be pretending. That is surely something of serious concern for anyone who feels women should be afforded the opportunity to write for the greater good of women or mothers in general. Instead of addressing this, the writer is attacked for providing an honest response that if anything, shows sufficient respect for the genre to try to raise the bar. She should be commended. If she were the world’s shoddiest writer, her writing skill has nothing to do with her abilities as a critic. When people read a review of a ballet performance, they don’t expect the writer also to be a ballet dancer, (or an architect, a virtuoso violinist, a cinematographer, a painter, etc.)

Thanks for writing this article and please carry on writing more like this one. I especially liked the grammatical form, ‘different from’ instead of ‘different than’.

Sylvia says:

Isn’t all this mommmy-blogging about writers trying to generate attention for their writing and generating some income through advertisers? There aren’t as many magazines around any more that writers can sell their articles to.

This sentence about the “formula” of mommyblogs sums it up for me.

“Create a persona that’s exasperated but loving, pretending to be annoyed by one’s child but in a way that makes it clear that said child is a genius, indicate that you don’t sweat the small stuff and mock parents who do.”

I am an avid blog reader and write one myself (although I wouldn’t call it a mommyblog). One thing that’s struck me reading many of these mommyblogs is the exact sentiment you describe. That’s exactly how I see some of the moms writing the blogs. They’re trying to be something they’re not. Thanks for putting into words exactly what I was feeling.

paula levin says:

love the writing, what a talent, also happen to love mommyblogs, esp dooce which is pretty much everything the writer finds pathetic about momyblogs. but heather armstrong has also addressed the ugly side of motherhood, pnd, anxiety etc. thanks for all the great new leads to new blogs, wish i had the time.

formula also requires extreme use of italics and. too. many. periods.

Thanks for all the comments. But EEEEEEEEEE I can’t believe Julie of A Little Pregnant commented here! Hers was the first blog, let alone the first mommyblog, I ever followed. (At the time it wasn’t a mommyblog — it was an infertility blog. And it was bitter and hilarious and honest. Now that Julie is writing about her beautiful kids, I sense that she’s struggling with the same issues I am plus one more: How do you talk about childrearing without seeming smug to the legions of people who started reading you when you were one of them, a person struggling to conceive?)
Lea, you raise such important points about feminism and telling our own stories. I DEFINITELY do not want to tell women to stop blogging, and I definitely do not want to disparage the hard work of raising kids. But encouraging self-expression and asking me to READ it are two different things. Life is short. Time is precious. Blogs are many. Good writing is rare.

Oh, and Susan, the followup to the Israel piece ran a few weeks ago. It’s here:

I think back to the period of 1959-1970, when my children were born, and there were no computers, no mommy blogs. In 1961, I was mother of two, the younger of whom was under a year old. I had been living in Antelope Valley, CA after moving there from Manhattan’s Upper West Side in 1960, where I had been a magazine editor and a political activist. With no car to drive during the day (my husband needed it for work), and the high desert winds making it impossible to walk outside with a stroller, I was stuck in the house for hours, daily. One Sunday, a woman named Betty Friedan was interviewed on a radio program about a book she had just written, The Feminine Mystique. She summarized it thus, and, of course, I’m paraphrasing:

“All over America, there are women who have everything–a college education, a good husband, beautiful children, a nice home, love–and they’re unhappy. They feel guilty for this: why should I be unhappy when I have all this?”

Suddenly, someone was making sense of my situation! I sat up and listened. “Aaron, they’re talking about me!” And after that, I never felt guilty again! I learned that I shared the isolated and overworked mother syndrome of women with education and worldly skills who had had to put that part of them to sleep for God knew how long. I felt that I wasn’t alone, and even better, that it was all right to feel the sadness, loneliness, despair, yearning, from time to time and that there were sisters out there who felt the same.

So mass media saved my sanity in 1961 and 1962: thank you, radio! And blogs are mass media, and they are saving sanity, as well as entertaining and enlightening. Yes, some of them are also boring and pretentious and self-obsessed. But bravo to all who write and read them for the jewels one can find, as I found in radio in 1961 from Betty Friedan! She’s not on this planet now, but she surely hasn’t left us!

Tracy says:

Thank you, Delores Sloan, for the much needed historical perspective.

As a mommyblogger I found your article condescending and insulting. I think that you epitomize what is wrong with so much of today’s parenting.Parenting is not about you it is about your children. I have never really cared what people called me as long as they did right by my children, btw both of my children have major disabilities.I have come across some of the the most intelligent and wonderful moms through reading others blogs.Too bad that you are too full of yourself to understand what is really going on in the blogosphere and the power and fortitude of the mommyblogger.And don’t decry that I have resorted to ad hominem attacks. This entire article was an ad hominem attack on the world of mommybloggers. When you write such pablum you open yourself up to scrunitny.

One more thing. I am sure the only reason you condescend to read Love That Max is because she is in the publishing/magazine business and is a published author. Hence good enough for your perusal.

I’m so with you, Marjorie.

Hmmm. I agree with just about everyone who posted! On the one hand, I identify with Marjorie as I take pains to distance my blog from the zillion Israeli immigrant blogs that inside my head I’m mimicking, “At the end of my transaction, the cashier said ‘Shabat Shalom’! How cool is that?”

On the other hand, once in a while I surf into the most awesome mommyblogs, Waldman’s included, which makes me so identify with “Life is short. Time is precious. Blogs are many. Good writing is rare.”

Anyway, the fact that I found something to identify with in the article and that it’s well-written (like, the author can actually punctuate and spell correctly, for starters) makes it worthwhile for me.

renee says:

(Are you regretting asking for a comments section yet?) Honestly, apart from pure defensiveness, why the vitriol? Read what you like, don’t read what you don’t.

I read a few blogs, mainly by people I think I would be friends with if I knew them (including yours, Marjorie, but I’ll stop if you want me to.) But I also try to avoid the oversharers, no matter how entertaining they can be, because I am concerned about the effect on their kids of creating an audience (sometimes of thousands) who think they know them. Think about it: those kids are going to grow up and leave the house and meet people who are going to recognize them, and some of them are going to be idiots who say “Wow, you’re X! I’ve been reading about you since you were born! That time you did Y, that was so cute!” And the first time the kid will be confused, and the second time she’ll be annoyed, and by the millionth time she’ll be in therapy because her personal childhood is public information.

The common response to this is that technology is changing the human psyche, and by the time our kids grow up no one will have any concept of privacy anymore. I don’t actually believe that (Mao did, and he was wrong); I think some people have more boundaries than others (obviously) and we just don’t know what our kids will grow up to be like (duh).

That said, if you want to write about your own mothering self, feel free, but I agree that writers make better writers than other people.

For the record, I have newly forayed into the blogosphere. I believe that your vitriol and criticism of “mommybloggers” is unfounded and unwarranted. Truly, we each read what appeals to us, but why denigrate an entire segment of the blogosphere?

I think that you need to consider that a.) we’re trying to help each other with experience, strength, and hope, and b, we are not out to get you, nor publicly criticizing your genre. (Which is?)

I blog about my own seven children and their disabilities, from severe to mild, because somewhere out there is someone with an issue I’ve been through, and maybe my experience will touch them, maybe open a mind or two, maybe allow a different perspective in. If you don’t want to read it, don’t. But don’t call me names and shallowly categorize me to suit your stereotypes.

The thing to remember is… we’re all in this together. I could go after “Jewish – parent – paid – writerbloggers”, but I’m not. I’m saying keep your mind open to the experiences, strength and hope of those around you.

As a parent of kids with disabilities, I have been on the receiving end of many, many stereotypes, many preconceived notions of my kids, and I’m here to tell you, mommybloggers are no more formulaic than the autism spectrum.

(Ahahaha, Renee, how did you know I asked for a comments section!? But you’re right, I did. And no, not regretting it. Most of the time. And you make such good points — I’ve wanted to do a story for a long time on memoir-writing and its impact on families. How do we determine what we’re willing to share and how?)

I don’t think this piece was vitriolic. I talked about my own preferences and the pitfalls of the genre, but I also said I don’t want to discourage ANYONE from writing.

renee says:

I wasn’t accusing you of vitriol–that was directed at the other commenters. Rereading my comment I realize that was not at all clear. I’m with you, as usual.

Reading this piece, I didn’t know it was gang-up-on-Margorie day. Wow. All she said was her personal opinion.
I never read mommy blogs before I was asked by my employer to write one. Even when I said yes, I said I would never call it a parenting or mommy blog, as I was no one to claim exceptional parenting. All I can do is say what happens in my life as it relates to Judaism, and hope I do it with cleverness and a bit of humor.
And my kids are old enough that I do ask them their permission to relate the events of their lives. My 10 year old son gave me his blessing to discuss a condition he has, knowing that it may help others with the same condition, and yet I still have not been able to write about it. I am that sensitive to his feelings.
One commenter suggested that Marjorie reads a certain blog because it is by a published author. Well, duh. Wouldn’t you like to read a blog by someone who really knows how to turn a phrase, rather than someone who reads like they desperately need an editor? I would.

Oh Renee, I know — there were a bunch of other commenters who did accuse me of being vitriolic. It’s the word of the day! Everybody scream! (Pee-wee Herman reference. Sorry.)

Alia, I’ve started reading your blog since you made me laugh in a comment on a previous column. Nice work!


The issue is not mommybloggers, per se, though there are so many of them that it’s quite simple to pin them down as scapegoats. But the abundance is symptomatic of the way that widespread Internet has made it so easy for any old Joe(sephine) with a keyboard & a couple fingers to start a blog & call him or herself “a writer.” Banging out a few sentences & a video doesn’t make you a writer; it makes you a blogger.

There’s a bit of a Venn Diagram here – not all writers are bloggers, & a great many bloggers aren’t writers. But the few who are both are real gems – & in so many ways, finding those gems makes all the incessant pebbles & dirt quite worth it.

Gayle says:

What Marjorie and Anne Lamott and Ayelet Waldman and possibly the others mentioned in this post do—wouldn’t know, haven’t read them—is use the specifics of family life to talk about a more interesting general condition. This is what makes them relatable even if you don’t have kids. The typical Mommyblogger that Marjorie, I think, does not want to be lumped with, seems to look at her own world to analyze…her own world. It goes no further and no deeper and is probably part of the reason for the shallowness.

This isn’t writing. It’s navel gazing. It’s a diary online for the world to read. Which is fine. We have the technology for that and if friends want to read other friends musings, have at it. But I have no desire to read that stuff and I don’t think the kind of essays with links that Marjorie writes is comparable.

You know, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t loath mothers for oversharing and then loath them for not telling the whole truth. But hey, what do I know? You are a professional writer and I am just a mommy (a job a monkey can do, right? unlike writing). What do I know?

aviva_hadas says:

“I’ve wanted to do a story for a long time on memoir-writing and its impact on families. How do we determine what we’re willing to share and how?”

Is there anyway that I can get a notice as to when the above quoted idea for an article is published as an article?

I am not a big fan of mommyblogs just because they don’t interest me that much. I don’t know if I could be categorized as a mommy blog; I don’t think so, because although I am a ‘mommy’, and I blog, I try not to discuss my children too directly. That’s because I’m only semi-anonymous; anyone could figure out who I am quite easily. And so I don’t discuss my children – because they deserve their privacy. And I certainly do not tell the full story. Ever. I don’t think that’s a fair expectation of a blog. A blog not a novel, where you can project all your issues onto various characters and proclaim nothing reflects you directly.

Rather, a blog is like a diary. Peope expect some connection to reality. Once you start telling the full story, you are violating someone.

Marisa Elana says:

I’m amused by how many of the name-calling folks simply disagree with Marjorie. Instead of saying “you’re a shallow, horrible, baby-eating troll,” why not just say “you know what, I disagree.” Don’t you teach your kids stuff like that, all you mommies and daddies out there?

Personally, I’m not a fan of any blog that is poorly written and formulaic, regardless of the subject. Ditto for blogs that reveal more private details about anyone, adults or kids, than should be publicly shared. But I know that many of the family-oriented blogs are, in fact, meant primarily for an audience of other family members, and are totally snooze-inducing for those of us who don’t share the DNA of the darling poopers.

Kristen says:

Hi Marjorie,

Thank you for addressing the one thing that makes me uncomfortable about mommmyblogs: consent. Children are too young to give it. Too young to understand that everything they say or do is subject to become content on their mother’s blog. It is one thing to occasionally include something your child says or does that gives you a moment for pause and reflection, but it is another to use them for content purposes. It makes me uncomfortable to see children’s lives unfolding online.

I write a tiny blog to keep in touch with my family members who live thousands of miles away. And before I write about any of them, I ask their permission to send their stories out into the great interwebs, even if no one else ever reads it. I don’t want to blanket all mommyblogs as irresponsible; I don’t think they are. But I just hope that people really think before they post about the people they love.

This is just what I’ve been looking for all the time. Don’t stop updating this web site.

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I’ve said that least 4931214 times. The problem this like that is they are just too compilcated for the average bird, if you know what I mean

thanks for your tips , id love to stick to your page as usually as i can.possess a good day~~


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Why I don’t read mommyblogs

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