Guzzling The Haterade | Heir to Blair

Rock bottom.

11 Jun posted by heirtoblair

I went for a walk tonight. I had such a good day today emotionally that I just knew I had to walk for therapy. So I hit the pavement at twilight with the cool air & setting sun. My iPod was dead. It was a blessing to just hear my breathing & padding footsteps.

& I thought.

I thought a lot. About life, about Harrison, my family, this blog.

Somewhere during my walk, I noticed rocks on the roads – bigger ones, & then tiny pebbles. I started kicking the big rocks. Kick. Kick. Kick. No matter how hard or soft I kicked those big rocks, they inevitably ran off the road into grass. I kicked the smaller rocks – a more difficult, precise task that took much more concentration. But with that precision & practice, the small rocks stayed on the road. Always.

I kept walking & kicking rocks. & realized that those rocks were my blog.

KICK.

I have been kicking the big rocks. & it shows because my blog has gone off the path. Sometimes I kicked hard, sometimes I kicked gently, but either way, it was the wrong rock & the inevitable happened. I’m off-track. Too much pressure on myself from myself. I’m at a weird place where I still love my blog, but I’ve gone awry. I took down too many boundaries for myself & am feeling the heat.

So I’m going to stop kicking those big rocks. I’m keeping a few things “closer to the vest” as my buddy Bonzer would say, although I still hope that some of my blogging will give insight to the disease that is PPD/PPA/PPeverything. Until further notice, I am no longer taking any new giveaways & reviews. I do have a few commitments still hanging out there that I am excited about, & I cannot tell you how many emails I have responded regretfully to this week. Of course, I will still be working with my sponsors. But this is for the best. & I hope you enjoy what will come of it, as I am sure it will lead to better writing & a better me, & therefore a better time reading our crazy antics for you.

Also, I am not made of stone – when you tell me to not have children anymore, that I’m a terrible mother, you’re ramming down the thoughts that I’ve had for months. Ramming them back down my throat. That is RUDE. It’s uncalled for. It’s not constructive. It’s not cute. I’ve been that woman to other women before & I tell you, karma sucks. It will come back at you & when it does, you will be trying to undo it with a vengeance. If you are one of those women that I kicked when they were down before, I’m sorry. The only thing I can say is that motherhood changed me, & I am a better person. I am sorry. I wish I could apologize over a cup of coffee & take back everything I said. But on that note, I do have the right to take down any comments that I deem rude or non-constructive to either my child, other readers, my sponsors, or myself. & as Eddie Murphy said, “This is my house. If you don’t like it, get the eff out.”

I never said this blog would always be fun. Or pretty. Or funny. It’s a woman in progress, so it is unfair to think that I will always stay the same. Sometimes I will change for the worse. Sometimes, I’ll be better. I’m working on being better for good. You may notice the changes. You may not. My prayer is that I will & that my family will notice.

enjoy1 Rock bottom.

Because I want more days like today. I want more days where I feel like The One with my little boy. I want more days where I excel at work. More walks at sunset, more giggles in bathtime, more fluffy butts reaching for one more kiss before bed. More cups of tea, more little Ikea lamps that make me smile. I want more days where my husband & I have already met the desired “Kiss Quota” with more promised later.

The little rocks are harder to kick. They take more precision, concentration, & attention. But they stay on course. & that’s what we all need right now.

91 Comments
Filed Under: blog crap, Fears, Guzzling the Haterade, Things that aren't perfect despite my best efforts, Unpopular opinions

Honey, Don't Bother Mommy. I'm Too Effing Pissed.

16 Mar posted by heirtoblair

If you are a “mommy blogger,” a SITS girl, or peruse the New York Times then you have undoubtedly seen this article.

“Honey, Don’t Bother Mommy. I’m Too Busy Building My Brand.”

My response? EFF YES, I AM. Mixed in with DON’T GO THERE, JENNIFER MENDELSOHN.

I could go into the actual article itself, which to be honest, I didn’t find all that degrading. Certainly not worthy of the backlash received, although I am always Team SITS Girls 4evah. ::fist pump to tiffany & heather:: nah, we won’t go into Ms. Mendelsohn’s journalism, which is always up for debate & opinions like any piece of writing. There is no need to delve that deep.

What I find degrading about the article is the mere TITLE. Honey, don’t bother Mommy. I’m too busy building my brand.

It is degrading. It paints “mommy bloggers” as opportunistic wastelands, willing to exploit their lives & children for little more than “latte money” in hopes of becoming the next Dooce. The title alone suggests that Mommy sits at her computer all day & night, shooing away requests for band aids, peanut butter sandwiches, or mere attention all to garnish website hits. It implies that her husband goes to bed alone while she taps out the details of her child’s dirty diaper night after night, leaving him a eunuch in a cold marriage bed.

How many times have I been told in a comment or email, especially as of late, to “sign off the computer” and pay attention to my family? To set my priorities? To get healthy by walking away from my blog? I am accused of putting my blog before my child, my profession, my husband, my sanity. To that, I laugh.

I am a Mommy Blogger. I wear that title with pride. I am a Mommy Blogger that knows the power of “Save Draft” when her child cries as he wakes up from his nap, despite being mid-post. I schedule conference calls with companies on my lunch break, between conference calls with clients off my break. I implement the trick of writing on the weekends as Nate & I snuggle on the couch over a movie, then setting it to publish throughout the week. I know that my 200,000 readers won’t go anywhere at 9pm while I slip on lingerie & seduce my husband. & I know that my dose of sanity in the day is that one hour at night where I sit alone with my Mac, cup of tea, & either write, Twitter, or answer emails.

MY TIME. My time to be Blair, to reflect on my life, to emotionally vomit to the interwebs. With the blessing of my psychiatrist. & I am criticized for maintaining that aspect of self?

It is also my second job, & I wear that badge with pride as well. I do earn money. I am building my brand. & you know what? I AM PROUD AS HELL OF IT. I work 40+ hours per week in a profession that I love. I am a mother. A wife. & then after I help put my son to bed, I put on my SuperMom cape & tap it out on the internet. For what? Maybe to stay home one day. Potentially to build Harrison’s college fund. Or maybe on a whim, to purchase a pair of absolutelytodiefor J. Crew shoes like these. & I am criticized, degraded, mocked for being brave & savvy enough to become an entrepreneur?

Maybe some “mommy bloggers” are not like me. They put their readerships above their relationships. Maybe they need to step off from the computer & get laid, or give further attention to the details outside of the internet. But maybe Mrs. Mendelsohn should do the same.

114 Comments
Filed Under: blog crap, Guzzling the Haterade, Unpopular opinions

That's what I get for parking my car on train tracks, right?

23 Jan posted by heirtoblair

Well. That will teach me to not write about being a working mom at the very end of a long Friday, when I’m tired & like every other American, watching the clock tick down until 5pm! Obviously, I had no clue that a simple schedule could cause such an uproar, but such is life on the interwebs.

and p.s. before we begin, for those that accuse me of not spending time with him – my child is napping. You know, because babies do that. In theory.

I have to be honest – I went back & re-read it. Again. & again. & I must have intended it in a different tone than the one that came across, because I still do not see the “OH MY GOD! ORDER ME A CROSS NOW BECAUSE NOBODY HAS IT WORSE! CROWN OF THORNS, SPONGE OF VINEGAR FOR ONE!” I wrote about the sensory overload that comes with being a mother (really? you’ve never felt that?). Or sometimes, just plain human. You know those times when your coworker is filing her nails for the umpteenth time that week & you have visions of whacking her over the head with the emery board? Or when you realize that the kid in the cubicle next to you types way too fast & hard – no really, dude. The keyboard doesn’t need that abuse! Or your kid is crying for Barney for the 18th time that day? Or your cleaning up the seventh spilled juice cup that week & if you have to hear the hum of your carpet steamer one more time, you might commit yourself. That kind of sensory overload that comes at the end of a long week. & you know those weeks that you have where you just want to crawl into sweatpants with a plate of cookies? It was one of those weeks.

(like someone tweeted, it was probably a baaaad decision to lose weight & go back to work simultaneously since comfort food & massive glasses of wine are now out of the equation!)

There are days I feel like SuperMom. Where I sit back, smile, & say “Awesome.” My kid is smiling, my husband still adores me, I’m losing weight, earning a paycheck, & my house hasn’t burned to the ground yet. & I feel like putting on a princess tutu & dancing around saying, “TAKE THAT, DOUBT! SUCK ON IT, PRESSURE!” I should make it a point to write about that, & I will. & maybe I’ll write it in pink! Because for all of those bad moments, there are some really, really amazing benefits to working. & if I can do it, you can do it. The sad part is, those feelings usually come after an extremely productive day, also creating an evening where I’m flopping into bed at 9pm without even finishing dinner.

I strongly agree with everyone that told me to simmer the hell down. I’m working on it. & keep reminding me, mmkay? You know those really obnoxious Type-A competitive perfectionist types that drive everyone crazy? Yeah. I’m one of them. So despite what it may sound like, it’s not that I see myself as a martyr. I simply see my life as a constant work-in-progress that could be better. I just need to realize that it can’t happen in two weeks. Or even 3 months. But along with some of the comments & emails I’ve received, I’m glad I posted it – I did not sugar-coat our life. The few weeks back to work are hell. It’s a new schedule, new priorities, new people, new challenges.

However, there are several upsides. Which include a house that really doesn’t get that dirty during the week. So Nate & I found this morning that we could clean it in an hour (the laundry, on the other hand! yipes!) I am, however, checking into a maid service for even that little bit. Folks have been telling me that for weeks & I’ve decided to stop being a stubborn ass. Thankfully, working outside the home has split the childcare & household duties even more fairly between Nate & I, so I am thankful for that. & I am working on a Guest Blogging Week to give me a wee break, which includes some REALLY awesome writers, thoughts, & hilarious tales. Reminder to self: Write about sex. & the high school cheerleading reunion. Not together, of course.

In closing, something that needs to be said:

I have always left comments open without censorship. I do not censor myself on here – as a returned favor for your patience through my rantings, I do not censor your comments.

Even when they suck. 95% of the time, comments are uplifting, insightful, & full of advice or encouragement. Sometimes they are even a much-needed swift kick in the ass. But occasionally (as you have witnessed), people can be cruel. Really. So some of those comments will be deleted. Not because they are insulting to me, but because they insult other women, races, & my child. I can stand for criticism. I do not abide by cruelty & ignorance. I try not to reply to all comments, simply because I could potentially spend my entire blogging existence responding & defending. I am pretty good at letting things roll off my shoulders, which includes laughing at what strangers on the internet say to me. You simply cannot be an open, honest blogger & allow those comments to get to you. If you do, then the words typed become censored. & censoring myself has never been a strong point (admittedly along with handling change & saying “no” to a bag of Doritos).

Sometimes, it is hard to chuckle when someone makes it their point to tell you that you’re a horrible, unworthy mother. You know, when I already have those feelings bouncing around with “I CAN DO THIS!” and “HELL NO, I CAN’T.” My child screamed at me for weeks. I cried about it & complained about it. OH MY GOD, I just wanted some respite. Any kind of respite. Work! & then I realized what that respite involved – being away from my son. OH MY GOD, I don’t want that. Gotta love life’s crossroads mixed with postpartum hormones, no? & right when we found the fix to where I could truly soak him in, I returned to work, waving goodbye to that sweet blonde head for 9 hours a day, 5 days per week.

But as always, I’m a work in progress. & so is life.

94 Comments
Filed Under: Guzzling the Haterade, Working Mom Series

Ladies & gentlemen, I have ARRIVED. Or as Dooce would say, UNFOLLOW.

11 Sep posted by heirtoblair

I give you my first official piece of hate mail, sent to my email for private viewing rather posting under the clever cloak of night, aka “anonymous.”

You’re the most self-righteous, arrogant, pretentious piece of shit I’ve ever met. And yes, I do know you IRL.
You know nothing about child-rearing, and my god, that poor child of yours… fate works in mysterious ways and you probably should have taken a hint from Harpie Jr.
I hate you and the broomstick you rode in on.

Listen, darling. I really, really wanted to handle this as grown-ups, but sadly, you blocked me from emailing you in return! Why, my dearest? If we know each other, let’s not be coy. So unfortunately, both your grammatical clusterfuck & my response must be made public in my attempt as a devoted blogger to answer any & all fan mail:

Dear Ionastudent,

Thank you for your e-mail! I always love it when my fans write to me. Thank you for your warm wishes with regard to my attitudes on parenting. I hope that in some small way I’ve helped you become a better person by sharing my life with you. Since we know each other “IRL” as you said, let’s get together for some coffee soon.

I miss you like the deserts miss the rain.

Yours,
Blair

p.s. tsk, tsk sugar…everyone knows brooms are for sodomy & sweeping (not necessarily in that order). Never for riding on!

As a further note, may I suggest requesting a full refund for your tuition, should you actually attend Iona College? I regret to inform you that you are not receiving adequate education in the respects of the English language.

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Filed Under: Guzzling the Haterade

21 Feb posted by heirtoblair

Seriously? You made an account simply to cyber-stalk me & tell me I am ugly?

lolz. Pathetic.

I wash my hands of you officially. Write what you like, it will make me laugh.

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Filed Under: Guzzling the Haterade