Whose big idea was it to let LAUSD kids out at 1:35 on Tuesdays? Don't they know how inconvenient it is - for ME?
After all, the minute my daughter comes home from school, I get to start neglecting her so I can work on my brand.
For those of you who are not clued in to the mom blogging community, that was sarcasm directed at the New York Times, which published yet another article about the audacity of mothers who are not content to just take care of the kids and the house and turn to blogging as an outlet for their creativity... community... and to (gasp!) earn a buck or two.
If you are a member of the community, you've already read the article and all of the really excellent analyses posted by women who are smarter and better writers than I. I'm not going to give the Times yet another link to the article - you can find that by following this small sample (and if you want to really understand the outrage, be sure to read the comments):
- Kelby Carr: Newspaper Bias Against Mom Bloggers
- Liz Gumbiner: Honey, Don't Bother Me - I'm Writing a Mildly Annoyed Letter to the New York Times
- Joanne Bamberger: An Open Letter to the New York Times
By now, there must be about 300 other posts about that article, too.
To be honest, my first thought when I read the piece was to admire the writer's way with words. She has style, and I like that.
My second thought was: I wish I had a brand to work on.
I've been writing in this spot for well over six years. I'm on nobody's Top Mom Bloggers list. I don't have a book deal. And worst of all, I don't have the patience to write an SEO-friendly post (I recognize that mine are all over the place) with an SEO-friendly title.
My third thought was to remind myself that I don't care any longer about my rank in the blogosphere. Despite my desperate need for attention, I'm writing for myself.
But a lot of my friends care, and they saw condescension and ridicule in the article. Plus, they pointed out that once again, a piece that deals with the business of blogging was stuck in the Style section - because it was a profile of women. Not just women, but moms.
And that stuff does make me see red. It took me a long time to get used to the fact that once I left my full time job in the "real world," I had become invisible. I'd go to a party with my husband, and once I answered the inevitable question, "What do YOU do?" I'd been rendered uninteresting; not worth talking to.
I guess after 12 years of being a stay-at-home, work-at-home mom, I'm used to it.
Being a stay-at-home, work-at-home mom in my mid-50's just makes me even more of a non-entity.
I admit it: I have low self-esteem. I like to think that gives me a charming self-deprecating sense of humor, but I have a feeling that others just find it tiring. I am a socially awkward person and have a hard time expressing myself verbally... but find it easy to write. This causes friction between my husband and me, as he prefers talking to writing and doesn't understand why I have a hard time telling him about my day... and a compulsion to write about it.
I think in my husband's eyes (and those of the world), your value to society is measured in the dollars your endeavors bring in. I used to think I would never have to worry about money, because I was smart and talented and a hard worker.
It's been a long time since I earned any significant income. In the eyes of the world, I'm worthless.
I was an ambitious young person. My first job out of college was a gig writing a nationally syndicated radio program, and I worked myself up to producer before the show was canceled and I experienced my first bout of unemployment.
It was all downhill from there.
I am bad at selling myself and am terrible in job interviews -- unless I don't actually WANT the job. Then, of course, I exude something that looks like confidence and I get hired on the spot. So I got the big idea of getting my foot in the door in the entertainment industry by working as a production assistant while writing sitcom scripts in my spare time.
I actually sold two of those.
They did not get produced.
I have a card that states I'm a member of the Writers Guild of America. I cling to that membership because it's proof that someone once thought I was good enough to pay good money for something I had written.
But it's a joke, because I have no credits. I get no residuals. My former agents don't remember me.
I clawed my way to the bottom of the entertainment industry and stayed there until I was too old to be hired any more. Then I took a secretarial job in the "real world," worked my way up to a low-management position (as a conference and event planner) and had my last-minute child.
What little competence I felt I had flew out the window the minute I became a mom. For one thing, it's impossible to focus on tasks when my daughter and husband are around. So instead of an eight-hour work day, mine is squeezed into the time between when I get home from dropping her off at school and when I leave to pick her up.
And I also have to walk the dog. And plan meals. And do housework (although THAT always ends up LAST on my list!) And now, I'm trying to put workouts back into my daily schedule again.
So when school gets out at 1:35 (instead of 3:00), that translates into about three hours of time to do some actual paying work.
And that's why I hate Tuesdays.
ADDENDUM: Am feeling less negative. I guess I need to let loose with a self-pitying rant every once in a while. But also visited Twitter and saw some real time positivity among our community - the stuff that doesn't get reported in the newspapers, because it shows mom bloggers in a good light.
Want to see what Mom blogging is about? Visit Jennifer James' new Mom Blog Magazine - and while you're there, check out the article about the amazing Cooper Munroe and Emily McKhann, who FOR YEARS have been using their online presence to do good deeds and bring moms together.
I heard about the article from Liz of This Full House, who I've copied shamelessly for years (and IS on several list of top mom bloggers)... and still calls me a friend.
