In Defense of Mom Blogs.

There are some out there who think mom blogs are cheesy. Décor sites are a waste of time. They see some blogs as fluffy and full of useless information. Who cares if little Johnny pooped today? Why does it matter if you like those candle holders? “Really,” they say, “Do you think I want to read about your birthing experience?”

These critics think that everyday stories are boring. Moms are taking too up much of the Internet with bad writing about their own children. I read remarks from these cynical commentators and wonder, “Do you like children?” “Do you consider where you live a home or just somewhere to sleep?” “Have you ever wondered about what it would be like to bring a baby into the world?”

I love blogging and I love mom stories. This may be in part because I am a blogger and a mom. I fit nicely into the mom blog category. I like reading stories of regular people in their regular lives. Sometimes the most exciting thing can happen within the walls of your own home, on any normal day. For example, last night I saw my daughter’s shoes in the hall way and I started crying:


Now, there is nothing out of the ordinary about these shoes. They were a birthday present and they are super cute. Just regular sandals that can finally fit. No hidden flying powers, no promises of amazing skills or height. But they are shoes that belong to a little girl who runs around my house singing, “Puppy, puppy, puppy, pup-PEE!”

These shoes are also supposed to stay off the carpet, but I always forget to take them off Mugga’s feet when we get in the door.

When I saw those shoes I thought, “Those shoes belong to my girl. And she belongs to me.”

This recognition caused me to tear up. To once again remember the wonder of my child, the smiles she flashes when she eats drumsticks, the kisses before bedtime, it got to me. She’s approaching toddlerhood and sometimes approaches my patience limit, but I still love her.

So the sight of shoes made me cry and appreciate a little person in my life. All right, fine. Maybe you’re right. I am cheesy and my life is fluff. Even so, I wouldn’t have it any other way.