You take a measly couple of years off writing and next thing you know, BAM, there are mum blogs all over the internet. I mean, there always have been, but the phenomenon is all jacked up on steroids now. There’s a whole local mum blog community that I was completely unaware of, despite being bang smack in the target audience.
For the record, I think the mum blog network is great. Being a parent is full on, no matter how many kids you have, what age and stage they’re at, what your work situation is, relationship status – basically no matter the variables, parenting is bloody nuts and can make you bloody nuts to boot. Having an online community, a place where parents can go to feel supported, encouraged, have a moan together and realise we’re not the only ones buying happy meals more often than we should is a really, really good thing.
The weird thing is, while I really enjoy reading blogs written by mums and interacting with other mums online, I’ve never really liked the thought of PBTM being considered a mum blog. Yes, I’m a mum, and this is a blog so I suppose it’s inevitable it will popped into that convenient category, but I’ve spent the last four and a half years embroiled in mum-ness, and all that time there’s been a (much thinner) version of me trying to break through that thick layer of hardened porridge, dry hair, and sticky everything.
That me is the one who exists outside of being a mum. It’s the me who was kicking around long before I had kids, the me who started this blog way back in 2002 (before blogs were even called blogs) and the me who wrote for ten years about shit that didn’t involve naps and carseats and sensory play.
It’s really hard to be defined by anything other than your role as a mother when that’s what you do all the damn time (it turns out even when I’m not with my children, I’m still their mum). I think my longing to feel like, and be seen as, an individual with interests and passions beyond my kids is what has kept me from writing here for so long – because the reality is most of my experiences revolve around my kids so I haven’t felt like I’ve had much else to offer, and I didn’t want this blog to become a cliche.
So yeah, I didn’t want this to be a mum blog, but I recently had a sort of epiphany, and here it is:
I am a mum.
Say whaaaaat? Bloody earth shattering realisation, I know. Mumming is what I do, it’s who I am, and even though they drive me crazy daily, my kids are my everything. So if I don’t write about mum stuff, family stuff, kid stuff, then what’s left? Well, nothing much it turns out. And so the tumbleweeds have been blowing here at PBTM. And not just because I’ve been busy, but also because I didn’t think you guys would care about what the kids and I get up to on the regs.
But you know what? I enjoy reading blogs written by other mums. I enjoy visiting their Facebook pages, stalking their instagram posts, watching their snaps. So I figure there might be folks out there who enjoy keeping up with my little fambam. More importantly, I enjoy writing, so I will write. And I’ll write about my kids. And I’ll write about other stuff. I’ll write about whatever takes my fancy dammit. And you will read, or you won’t, and all of that is okay.
Throughout the drought I’ve still been pretty active on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook and more recently on Snapchat – so if you’re social media inclined, then hop on board mates. Be warned, I do snap a lot, and most of it is really boring, but one time I opened my parents’ oven after mum had been overseas and left dad to fend for himself. I found a tray of chips that were covered in a tonne of nasty furry green mould so I snapped that, along with mum’s reaction, then dad’s, and honestly you don’t want to be missing out on that shit so you best be following me.