Dylan’s teacher left me a message on Thursday because I didn’t send her to school with a lunch.
And I think, “Why the hell would I make her lunch? It’s bagel day. This is the one day of the week where she gets to avoid my Whole Foods agenda and eat a little bit of white flour and a processed dessert.” (Yes, Jamie Oliver, I believe in your food revolution.)
So I call back the school and leave a message explaining that there must be some kind of mistake because it’s bagel day and I just know I signed Dylan up for bagel day. I mean, originally she was pizza day but then she got bored and switched to chicken day but she didn’t care for the chicken so I am positive that we requested bagel day again. Didn’t we? By the time I hang up the phone, I am not so sure.
I know you are on the edge of your chair wondering how all this turns out. Yes, she is signed up for bagel day. Which is Tuesdays. Not Thursdays. That’s the thing about coming back from a vacation midweek. It’s sort of confusing. For everyone.
Or maybe just me.
So there I am immersed in my inability to discern the days of the week and thinking this situation might not improve once I have newborn twins, when a friend gives me a heads up and sends me a link to a blog that trashes me. (No, I’m not linking to the blog.)
Because it was mean. She accused me of writing “mommy marshmallow fluff.” Which sounds absolutely creamy and delicious but I promise you, it was snarky and cruel. Let me give you a few quotes…
“This site, The Mama Bird Diaries is the one that finally put me over the edge with this froo froo, trendy parenting, humor session bullshit.”
“Kintner could be inspiring much needed change around the culture of mothering, but instead has fallen prey to a bad case of mediocrity.”
And then she goes on to accuse me of giving mothers in the flyover states “the license to continue with their commonplace existence.”
Holy crap. I am now responsible for mothers from Nevada to Maryland?! I don’t think I have the time for that kind of responsibility. Nor do I think these mothers are waiting for me to lift them out of their so-called “commonplace existence.”
And then she throws this zinger out…
“If we want our daughters to grow up in a world in which they are truly free of the oppressive stereotypes of the female role, start by writing about what we can do to change our society, not how many times you change your jeans.”
Apparently she was referring to this post.
Listen, you can hate my humor. Hate my blog. But let’s not go after my jeans. Ok? Jeans should really be sacred. I take my denim seriously. As soon as I find a fabulous pair of jeans, I promise I will start campaigning for women to have the right to vote. Oh wait, do we already have that?
I’m certainly not go to apologize to anyone for writing a humor blog. As a journalist, I spent years covering many dark stories, including months and months of 9-11 stories. Life is filled with sadness, loss and heartbreak. Now I want to make people laugh. And trust me, humor writing takes work. Do I care about issues like health care? Of course I do. But if you are looking for a dissection of the recent health care legislation, you won’t find it here. But off you go into the blogosphere and I promise you’ll stumble upon it.
However, if you were wondering whether you’re the only mom who has ever sent her kid to school with no lunch because you couldn’t even remember the day of the week – you most certainly are not alone.
And this is the blog for you.
Because I believe in laughing. Not judging. I believe that women are smart and powerful and inspiring. And every woman out there deserves a kick ass pair of jeans.