Tonight I cracked open The Good Mother Myth. I’m still working through a novel and I find it easier to read two or three books at once if they’re all different. I thought this collection of essays would be interesting and different.

I was reading through the introduction and there was a somewhat insulting crack about “mommy bloggers.”

I am a mother who blogs about my journey, I go to conferences, I Instagram pictures of my adorable daughter.I fit into that apparently disgusting category.

(Just today I saw something else that called mom blogs anti-feminist, who knew?)

But as I read on through the introduction it said that the purpose of compiling these short essays was to get real stories about motherhood.

Well what the fuck do you think I’m doing on my blog? Why the hell do you think I lost myself in other blogs while I was trying to figure out what to do with this tiny human that was suddenly in my care?

My blog led me to social media, and the two together led me to some great friends, mothers who commiserate and trade stories and tell me about real motherhood and all the many different forms it takes.

The introduction was all about sharing real stories, breaking down the barriers between mothers, stopping this spirit of competition to be the perfect mother, but then you throw in this thinly veiled insult to a whole class of women who have found their voice. Women who are being creative, telling their stories and even helping to support their families?

Just like all mothers are not the same, all blogs about motherhood are not the same. They are reality.

Her and me? We do alright
Her and me? We do alright

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