By Contributing Mama Daphne Biener
Any day now I’m going start writing for the Rocky Mountain Moms blog, the newest group within the Silicon Valley Moms blog umbrella. One thing stands in my way…they want a bio.
I’m working on it, really, it’s practically done. Ok, that’s not completely true. But I am sitting here before a blank screen prepared to scrutinize my life and create a summary that presents me in a way that is charming and witty with just enough zing to suggest probable superwoman tendencies.
Should I start with where I went to college? Or just say that I did go to college? Golly gee, considering what’s out there politically I could probably tell the folks that I went to the same school for four years and left with a degree and a strong command of the English language, even those pesky words that end in ‘ing.
Not that it belongs in a bio, but I did just go to my 20th high school reunion. I could boast that I came out unscathed, receiving the coveted comment, “you look exactly the same.” from 37 old friends and classmates. I needn’t have worried about dying my hair; 12 vodka tonics and I was full of confidence that not only were my grays good as gone but my breasts magically perked back up to pre-nursing height.
Do I confess in my bio that after too much to drink I fancy myself a talented singer and have been known to dance atop bars to the mortification of those around me? Or keep the focus instead on SAT scores and GPAs?
What if I tell how my second daughter was born in my living room on purpose? Might one assume that I wear my hair in dreadlocks below my butt and dance naked beneath the harvest moon? Do I attempt to knit home birth neatly together with a masters degree, the one I earned while working full time as an executive in Manhattan, balancing a new husband and an even newer pregnancy? Colorful quilt that would make, but I just don’t know.
The media is spending a considerable amount of time debating whether or not we can know a candidate after just 20 months. 20 months? I’ve been hanging around myself for 38 years, and I am not exactly closing in on who I am. Perhaps what I need to get this bio written is a healthy dose of public scrutiny and a side of on-air vetting.
Who am I? What do I do? Who knows? I barely slap at the morning alarm and suddenly it’s time to get the kids tucked in again. What happens in between those morning and bedtime tooth brushings? I couldn’t tell you. I make sandwiches and slice infinite apples into snacks. I draw the girls’ baths. I drink lots of coffee. I follow the news and march back and forth on my invisible soap box.
I am a mom and a wife. A gal who can shimmy on a bar. I am a friend and a writer. A passionate Democrat.
And I am just getting started.