It’s So My Mom.

Image by RichardBronosky via Flickr

My friend Tamre and I arrived at the same panic attack this morning, for the same reason, albeit from different sources: Yuck. One day we’re going to be mom-like. Not “Yuck, we’re going to be mothers,” but mom-like.

We arrived at this conclusion separately. I had been mulling the whole mommyblogger backlash to a Motrin painkiller commercial that depicted some clueless, first-time mom whining about the painful trend of “wearing your baby.” Poorly done? Yeah.

But the hysteric response from some blogger moms was a gross overreaction. And amateurish. Check out this shoddily edited montage from incensed mommyblogger Jessica Gottlieb, who compiled the angry tweets of other moms who reacted as though the maligned babysling were an actual child itself. (That MUSIC. The movies of the ‘80s called. They want their estranged-lovers-on-the-brink-of-reunion soundtrack back.)

Oh God, I could be one of these women in a couple of years. I’m quick to jump to conclusions and causes. Shit.

Tamre’s fear had been wrought from a different starting place. She found out Dooce author Heather Armstrong is with child.

I think our Gmail chat session says it all.

Tamre: dooce is having another baby

me: o rly?
That’ll be good material

Tamre: yeah
is it weird when i read that i kind of blanched a little?

me: no
that’s what i want to write about
did you hear about that motrin moms uproar?
with the babysling deal?
I think women our age are a little apprehensive about becoming a mom, because you inevitably become more, well, momish
no matter how cool you are

Tamre: no..motrin mom uproar? what?

me: hold up

Tamre: k
Sent at 12:07 PM on Wednesday

me: Damn that’s a long link
So Motrin put out some ad targeted at new moms that they found offensive for some reason, and they bitched and moaned till execs pulled it. I’m sure there’s a link to the original in there, and I’m sure you’ll agree, WTF are they bitching about?
I dont want to become like that. Is that the inevitable>
?
Sent at 12:10 PM on Wednesday

Tamre: i really hope not

me: Some mommyblogger made a vid in response with tweening pics of smiling moms wearing babyslings (which the Motrin commercial kinda portrayed as a mere fashion accessory) in front of horrible music
I’m like, this looks so amateurish.

Tamre: i think in 5-10 years we would make awesome moms

me: I hope so

Tamre: i know we’re not there yet

me: Maybe you. I’m gonna be neurotic.

Tamre: and i’m ok with that

me: :)

Tamre: but seriously?
i want the “you should have a baby right now” propaganda to stop
me: oh are you getting that from your friends?

Tamre: eh
just in general
not just friends
but
like…
i liked greys anatomy
i hated addison
because she was consumed with having a baby
how freaking selfish

me: yeah
I agree.
Sent at 12:14 PM on Wednesday

Tamre: blah
Sent at 12:16 PM on Wednesday

me: ha ha
okay lemme ask you this
what is it that makes you cringe about dooce having another kid?
Is it her being a mom again?
or being mom-LIKE
like flying into hysteria over Motrin babysling commercials?

Tamre: more momlike

me: I know!!!
Like, now, this is my life and my child colors the way I see everything and everything I do.
scary
Sent at 12:35 PM on Wednesday

Note: I do know some “cool” moms (whatever that means). I hardly think I’ll be that lucky.

Image via Wikipedia

Samsung launched a social media site called “Moms Like Us” last August. The site has all the trappings of a virtual watering hole or peanut gallery for moms obsessed with washer and dryer tips and news.

Inevitably, a man started a thread on the site accusing Samsung of being old-fashioned for assuming that mommies are the only ones that do laundry or are interested in washer-dryer news–and the chance to win one, another of the site’s draws.

But what I find unprogressive–or maybe just more whitewashed–are the site’s hokey interactive polls. The current one asks what it would take “for your husband to help with the laundry.” The options range from “baseball tickets” to “action movies” to “not throwing away his lucky shirt.”

Come ON. In my apartment, my boyfriend does more laundry than me. And if I had to bribe him, he wouldn’t give a flip about those choices. I’m not starring in some color version of Donna Reed here.

And neither are my parents. My mom’s bait would probably entail some promise of three consecutive trips to the buffet, turning off her morning dose of Christian talk radio, or ditching my grandpa from Sunday lunch.

She could probably get a years worth outta my dad if she let him punch one of her proselytizing, vitamin-peddling friends.

And I mean ONE in particular.