The portrait of stay-at-home-momhood has always been eating bon bons and watching soap operas.
I won’t say that my mother fit this to a T in the 80s and early 90s, but she did watch All My Children. She also kept the house clean, cooked, and played with me and my sister all the time. The more I reflect and the older I get, the more I realize that I had a rocking, blissful childhood.
But she did watch soap operas.
So did most women in that time, especially those who stayed at home. I think the women of my generation often find ourselves high and mighty, thinking we would never be enthralled with something as silly as a television show where one week can span years and characters come back from the dead more often than they marry, which is saying a lot.
But I think we’ve found our new soap operas in the Internet and blogging.
Oh, blogging. It can be its own soap opera, can’t it? Will you share your kids’ names? Will you link back? Are you a vegetarian, breastfeeding, cloth-diapering, non-vaccining mama … or THE DEVIL?? (I kid. I also vaccinate.)
Are you wrong to advertise? Wrong to not charge for giveaways? Wrong for posting pictures of yourself or your kids? Wrong for speaking about God? Wrong for using a pudding mix occasionally?
It seems like it’s another way to cause contention. It’s another obsession. Another thing you’re drawn to as soon as your kids are asleep in the bedroom, another reason to hold up your hand and say, “five more minutes,” another interruption to a healthy sleep schedule.
I feel we’ve moved from soap operas and bon bons to blogging and Pinterest-worthy cupcakes.
I’ve felt very unbalanced lately, to the point where it’s keeping me up at night. I know I want a quieter, less technology-laden life. I hate the Internet addiction; and yet, it’s part of our livelihood: I make money writing articles, blogging, and managing ParentLife Online.
It’s extremely difficult to separate work and enjoyment, however, when they all live inside the computer.
I’m reading Organized Simplicity on my Kindle, evaluating our “stuff,” and determining how I can fit work into blocks of time that don’t take attention away from my kids. I’m remembering the habits and joys that used to be a bigger part of my life: crochet, reading books.
Above all, I want to crave God, not blogs, or Twitter, or anything else.
Soap operas or blogging, addictions are not healthy. I want to enter my 30s seeking a healthier, holier life.
Join me for the ride, won’t you?