I’ve been obsessed with mommy-blogs lately, in all of their Pinterest loving, child rearing glory.
The perfectly staged photos, crafting supply rooms, weekend trips up-state and live posts from the driver’s side of their white SUVs. Guh. I live for it. I tried to explain why I’m so enamored with these trope-y, ultra American women to my best friend – who shares my love of Honey Boo Boo, TLC, and all things voyeurism – but I don’t think I was able to adequately put it into words.
In a round-a-bout way, these mommy-blogs are what inspired me to create my own website. Initially I had fantasies of well-lit photographs featuring white chocolate covered pretzels and armless chairs covered in chevron. Then I cracked open the vodka and came to my senses.
Yesterday I spent five dollars on Crystal Lite margarita mix at Safeway because it only had three calories per pitcher, and last week I spent four days sitting on my ass at the cabin because I could. My last relationship co-starred the King of the men’s psycho division, which only recently led me to cut down on my chain-smoking, and I swear too much. How far am I going to get with a box of adorably antiqued cookie tins and children’s safety scissors when I can hardly get through a sentence without ending it in “fuck”?
I refer to Britney by her first name only, and once I was logged into XBOX Live for nineteen continuous hours because I was too busy growing cartoon pinatas to feed or bathe myself. And that’s my life. I don’t have room for bible verses and birthday party favors – why would I write a blog about it?
So I’m going to write what I know. And maybe one day you’ll see me planning out my wedding on Pinterest, but for now – I’m drinking vodka and warm margarita mix on my couch. And that’s just something we’re both going to have to deal with.