Mommy Blogging

The new buzzword these days is "Mommy blogging". There has been a recent media blitz about mommy blogging, including on Nightline and NBC.

The queen of the mother bloggers is Dooce. And by queen, I mean that she and her husband quit their jobs and make a living off of her blog. The Wall Street Journal and other recent media have estimated the amount to be about $40,000 a month. What the?!?! I make .40 cents on Google Adsense and I giggle like a school girl. "Oh my mom must have clicked something." $40,000 a month! DG and I look at each other, sigh and start dreaming.

So the question that I ask myself is, "Gasp, Have I Become a Mommy Blogger?". And the answer is, well, um, ::foot shuffling::, sort of.

In the late 90's, every Monday morning, I would draft a "Monday morning email" to all my girlfriends detailing my lascivious rambunctiousness of the previous week-end. At the time, it was my own version of Sex in the City. It was the standard stuff, you know like drinking excessively, having guys pick up your tab and then take you to a strip club and give you a hundred dollars in $1 bills for the ladies, taking a cab home at 4am only to have the cab driver recognize you from the week before, going out at 10:30 am for a bloody mary and stumbling home 12 hours later wearing a 1/2 eaten candy necklace, or one of my personal favorites, going home with a guy I liked, only to have his girlfriend waiting for him outside of his apartment. Oh the good old days.

Anyway, I've always said this blog is ABOUT ME, so when I went and got engaged, my blog was about weddings. And through a natural progression of life, we now have a baby, so I blog about her because she's the cutest freaking thing I've ever seen. But now, instead of fun urban hip girl, I am suburban Mommy Blogger. I've gone from Girls Gone Wild to Girls Gone Child.

I'm not sure where this is leading other than to say that I post pictures of her so people out there, her grandparents mostly and my friends who are so far away can feel closer to us and watch her grow up. But have no fear, I'm sure I'll try to fit in some more sex, drugs and rock and roll. And by drugs I mean Vitamin C and Ibuprofen; and by sex, I mean watching Gibson hump Tica; and by Rock and Roll I mean GO buy the new Death Cab For Cutie album because it is awesome.