Motherhood Should Come With a Set of Ear Plugs, Right?
Video Blogging: Breaking Up with the Girl Scouts

Blogging It Old School

Radio 

Video may have killed the radio star, but it's those damned folks selling their Blu Rays that's totally messing with my blogging mojo, DAMNIT! [source: Shorpy.com]

Look, I've been at this for more than half a decade (you like that, sounds way longer than 6 years, right?) but, if you think mommybloggers have it bad, just wait.  Though, I long since ditched the term, made it a habit of adding links to my "parenting blog" and would much rather be called, "Her Royal Majesty" and "Supreme Blogging Goddess" or just "Elizabitch" -- whichever one works for you, I'm easy -- yes, I HAVE personally bore (bared?) witness to the destructive and dismissive nature of mean girls in the blogosphere (wanna see my scars?) but...DAYUM...rock, paper, scissors...says...SHOOT, it's time us old-timers take back the blogosphere.

Or, is it bad to use the term "blogosphere" anymore, either?  Yah?  Well, buckle up my friend, I'm getting all goose bumpily just thinking about how many people I've been able to annoy, lately, just because the wind's blowing a different direction, or deciding to add a "page break" on purpose, giving all 3 of my readers the choice, whether they want to  "click to read more..." or, not.

Glutton for punishment, aye?  That's okay. Welcome to my world.  Where the term "dork" takes on a whole new meaning and blogging out my parenting imperfections is brought to a totally professional level.  Although, I do remember a time, not too long ago, when getting on someone's blogroll was cool.  I had a couple of them, in fact:

  • Morning Coffee:  These were the blogs I read first thing, after getting kids to school, preschool, or down for their morning nap(s) and selfishly grabbing a few minutes for myself.
  • Afternoon Tea:  What, is it nap time, again, already?
  • Red, Red Wine:  Anytime, after dinner and right before dawn.

Then, all of a sudden, outta nowhere, someone started complaining about how hard it was to read blogs (like mine) with cute-ish blogroll labels.

Oh, alright, I'll just incorporate all my favorite blogs into one big list, then...I'm easy.

  • My Favorite Blogs

Then, all of a sudden, outta nowhere, someone started complaining about how hard it was to read blogs (like mine) that listed favorite blogs, only.

Oh, alright, I'll just incorporate blogs that also link to me, then...I'm easy.

  • Blogroll

Then, all of a sudden, outta nowhere, someone started complaining about how hard it was to read blogs (like mine) period.  Oh, and that blogrolls were bad.

You see where I'm going with this, right?

A lot has changed since those early years of blogging and, well, there are just too many rules to remember.  Especially, for a person my age and cranial circumstance.

Personally, I believe it's all just a simple case of evolution and my breeding (4 times) is reason enough to cause some contempt, let alone a blogger, who still believes that, deep down inside all the content, that there is still some good writing to be had in the blogging world.  To be able to reach out and touch someone, in some way, with a simple click of sticky little button is, well, very therapeutic, actually.

So, why fight it, right?

Well, because not every change is good -- and I'm not just talking about those pesky pennies that keep piling up in my minivan -- but, it is my responsibility, as a self-publisher, to decide just how far I am willing to bend.

I swear, Twitter has become a breeding ground for personal agendas (since, I joined way back in, um,  2007) and dang if those damned feed readers aren't killing my comments, or lack thereof, lately.

Aaaand, therein lies the rub.  I am a total geek.  As a frustrated (and starving) writer, I have always been thrilled with the concept of being able to self-publish.  As a geek, I'm always trying to find new ways of doing things, in my life, better.

Then, all of a sudden, outta nowhere, someone started complaining about how hard it was to read blogs (like mine) that talked about stuff, other than dirty diapers, pms, lack of a sex life (sorry, Mom) oh, and puke...tons and tons of puke...human, or otherwise.

Oh, alright, I'll just start another blog and it's easier than buying a new hat, really.

Because, I have a thing, or two, to say when some stupid and totally unrealistic television commercial or magazine advertisement tells me how I should be happy, when my kids spill something, or make a mess of themselves, or suggestions that I can no longer think for myself, unless there are $$$ attached, let alone make the right choices, anymore

SHUTUP!

Yeah, that's right.  Man, did that feel good.  In fact, I think maybe I'll even use my blogging powers for good.

But, you don't never read nothing about no blogger raising over $700 to help in the fight against poverty, or refusing a paycheck, like I did.

That's right, they offered to pay me (never mind, who) but, I opted to donate the money, instead and...STILL...I almost feel dirty admitting it.

Seriously, have you read any articles about the "good stuff" moms (like me) are doing with their blogs?  If you are, then I bet you dollars to donuts (no matter the brand) that someone will find some sort of complaint -- perhaps, that donuts have lots of sugar -- and that is just totally wrong, sorry.

Not to mention, messing with my blogging mojo.

So, I propose this, why don't we -- and by we I mean moms who still believe that writing beats content, every time -- oh, I don't know, buckle up, learn to go with the flow, take back the internet and use our blogging powers for good.

[pumps fist in fury and nearly passes out from pain in rotary cup, rotator cuff, whatever they call that shoulder problem, thingy, DAMNIT]

Then again, I've recently moved to another age bracket (never mind, which one) and entered into a whole different demographic, anyway -- apparently, when it comes to marketing to moms, we 40-something moms are totally missing the boat -- then again, I'm easy.

Except, NOW I'm just an old blogging who-wuh and what do I know, anyway, right?

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