As bloggers, we all have that one comment that bugs us. Oh, there are others, the offensive ones, the ones that don’t make it past the spam filter, but then there’s the one that gets to us every time. It’s different for every blogger, but for me it’s a variation of the “sorry you feel that your kids are such a burden, mine are the best thing that ever happened to me.”
If I could, I’d punch that comment in the comment box.
I saw a variation of it recently when my 5 Parenting Grudges I Still Hold post appeared on Babble’s Facebook page and I got this comment:
Wow, let go woman! Holding grudges is bad for your physical and spiritual health. No one likes a bitter bitch. If you knew that you were gonna go through some rough times, why the hell did you become a mom if you were just gonna be bitter about so much? My daughters are the light of my life, and I refuse to hold grudges for anything being their mom brings about. Life is life and can be unfair, but get over it already. Get over yourself. Sheesh.
That comment bugs me because if I were to take it as face value, it would mean that I could never, ever write a post about being a mother in anything other than floral terms. Or if I were to write an honest post about motherhood’s darker side, I could do so only after paragraph-long disclaimer about how much I love my children and wouldn’t trade them in for anything in the world ever.
Why should such disclaimers be necessary?
Why can’t we be honest and admit that although we love our children very much, there are aspects to parenthood that are challenging, annoying and even a pain in the you-know-where? How can the fact that Baby Bop’s speech patterns drove me absolutely insane negate my love for the children or undermine my decision to become a mother?
To be fair, a lot of what I write is lighthearted. For example, those grudges. Yes, from time to time I remember that promise that I’ll be able to wear a bikini that the labor and delivery nurse told me as they were preparing me for the c-section and I shake my fist in the hospital’s general direction. But if I were to choose a bikini body over my baby? That couldn’t possibly be a serious question. And of course I don’t sit in the corner of my bedroom, rocking back and forth, wondering why Dav Pilkey never finished the next installment of Captain Underpants. My life doesn’t revolve around these grudges, but they are part of my experience of being a mother and I see no reason why I should apologize for it.
Photo source: Wiki
For more of Marinka, visit her personal blog Motherhood in NYC and The Mouthy Housewives, where she doles out advice as though it were candy. Mmm … candy. Also, follow her on Twitter, where she never refers to herself in the third person, but does have a potty mouth. Sorry!
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