I was all set to write up a sweet little post on this new frozen organic baby food hitting Whole Foodsy-type stores on the West Coast. OK, so I had one little snarky comment about what Tasty Babies actually taste like (my only experience has been something like cottage cheese and peaches, which is a little more ewww than I anticipated at the time). While cruising around on the site for more material, a little button suddenly called to me. KIDS' BLOGS. Kids' blogs? Really? What could that be? Other than XOSOSN7221090214N..>>>>%%%NJOEAHEOW AJHEDAFDKSZ, which I imagine most preschoolers (or at least mine) would "type?"
While this idea might seem freaking adorable to many folks -- likely those same folks who send thank you cards in the voice of their non-speaking newborn, which I always think should more fairly include a lot of spit-up and raspberries on the thermal inked stationery rather than My mommy says I look adorable in this hemp Metallica onesie... ick. -- it is just strange to me. The five featured kids are cute as a button and I am sure their lives are funny and interesting and full of adventure. What I am confused about is how all of these bloggers, ranging from babyhood to preschoolerdom, are so developmentally gifted that they can type out the details of those funny, interesting and adventure-filled little lives, let alone upload photos of grandmas and trampolines.
What sent me over the edge was this bit on Louisa's Blog: I recently became a big sister,
which is very exciting. My little brother is called “Sonny,” and I
love him a lot. He doesn’t do too much yet – just a lot of eating,
sleeping & pooping. Why? Because we all know that Louisa might be enamored with little Sonny but excited? Mmmm, somehow I doubt that. Plus, wouldn't it be a lot more exciting for those of us who can read to peek into the truth, like how Louisa secretly steals Sonny's paci and sucks on it in the corner so he will come down with all the stomach bugs she brings home from Montessori pre-K? Or how she's already planning to hide the pot she'll one day score as a freshman in college in her brother's top dresser drawer. You know, the real inside stuff.
What I don't want to read are those thank you notes extended into weekly or daily blog posts, which these seem to be. I'm too busy trying to muster up forgiveness for my good friend who actually wrote her baby shower correspondence in the voice of her third-trimester developing fetus. And although that still conjures up all kinds of laughable images in my mind, it confused and irritated me and made me wonder if a pre-birth being writes in cursive or all caps, has grammar issues or impeccable punctuation. I know, this is all silliness. Especially considering that the baby's six months old now and probably blogging more than I am.
