Blogstipation Is A Bitch (And So Am I)

April 9, 2007

One of the problems with taking a break from blogging is that the stream of stuff that one wants to write/blog about doesn’t stop running. It just keeps coming and coming and that list in your head of things that you really must write about just gets longer and longer and eventually you start to get something like that cramped feeling that you get when your gastro-intestinal system gets all bunged up from too much input and not enough output, except in your head and not in your pipes.

That’s what’s happening to me right now. There are about six gajillion ideas for posts that pressing upon the inside of my skull, but I am exhausted and suffering from health-related anxiety and general malaise and am overwhelmed with work and feeling guilty about not socializing enough in my beloved momosphere and simply can’t push those posts through my system quickly enough.
I am currently aching from the stoppage that is this collection of backed-up posts:
1) The now long overdue recap of the intellectual and social excitement that was my sojourn with my much loved BlogRhet pals in Kentucky. Adventure, excitement, and hordes of Mary Kay ladies crossing paths with clutches of competitive bow-archers. Pink feather boas get tangled up in crossbows; hilarity ensues. Why have I not written about this yet?

When transporting arrows in one’s stroller, one must always be certain to keep sharp steel tips pointed downward, so as not to pierce one’s self while steering or manipulating sippy cup. Also, purple sippy cups and green strollers pair best with red arrowheads (purple or green arrowheads would be too matchy matchy).

2) A serious reflection on some of the ideas that we generated during the intellectual bacchanal that was that sojourn in Kentucky, not least a consideration of what counts as authenticity in the momosphere, and whether and to what extent authenticity matters. How is it that such intimacies are forged in the virtual spaces of our storytelling, of our performances as writers/mothers, when such spaces seem to preclude ‘real’ authenticity? And, what is real authenticity, anyway? Who is the real Her Bad Mother, and why do you or should you even care?

Does Her Bad Mother really have a gigantic distorted head? Is Joy really a squat leprechaun? Does Bub really have a forehead that extends to infinity? Can we ever really know what’s real? CAN WE?

3) Why Teletubbies is a work of breathtaking postmodernist genius.

4) Why I don’t want to be a MILF. Or a Yummy Mummy. Or anything that involves me worrying about those last inches of tubbiness around my hips or whether I’ve still ‘got it.’ Because, for the record, I don’t. And I don’t care. And I like that I don’t care. But also I’m worried about not caring. You see where this could get confusing.

5) Why kid-haters should just shut the fack up already and admit that really, deep down, they’re just sad and lonely and terrified of their own mortality. Tentative title: Pedophobes Are The New Racists, So Let’s Shame Them Already.

6) Why all moms will NOT go to heaven. Or, rather, why, if there such a thing as mom-heaven, I don’t want to go there.

This last one is just me being contrary. Apparently, if you write a post about ten reasons why all moms go to heaven, you could win fifty bucks worth of t-shirts and hats and whatnots and there’s a good cause behind this and all, but please. How could this not provoke my pissy inner bizatch? I could give you a list of ten mothers who did NOT go to mom-heaven (Caterina Sforza, to save her own life, handed her kids over to the men who murdered her husband and then flashed them her hoo-hah, hollering that they could just go ahead and kill those kids, ‘cuz she could make MORE. People: this mother did not go to any heaven that I’ve ever heard of), and that would just be from the files of Bad Renaissance Mothers Whose First Names Start With C.

Then, too, there’re the Ten Reasons Why It Is Theologically Unsound To Insist That Everyone With A Used Uterus Goes To Heaven. And, also, the Ten Reasons Why Claiming An Association Between The Fate Of Human Souls And Reproductive Practices Is Also Probably Philosophically Untenable And Very Possibly Illiberal, Too.

In any case, even if we amended the original statement to read Ten Reasons Why We’d Like To Think That Motherhood Qualifies Us For Entrance Into Heaven NotWithStanding The Teachings Of Most Theistic Religions And Major Philosophical Traditions, I’d still have to demur treatment of that statement, and offer this instead: Ten Reasons Why, If There Is A Special Corner Of Heaven For Mothers, I Do Not Want To Spend Eternity There.

But that’ll have to wait until tomorrow, or the next day. I’m blogstipated, you know.

Edited to add: My buddy Julie of Mothergoosemouse is also not going to heaven, and she’s telling you why. And, all these juicy blog-post ideas and I went and wrote a book review. On a book about sleep. Go figure.

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    crazedparent April 9, 2007 at 7:51 pm

    blogstipation…what a perfect word.

    Karen April 9, 2007 at 7:57 pm

    I just clicked your link for all moms go to heaven and everyone seems to be sporting a shade of pink that is just disastrous for me so I cannot go there ever again. I hope there is some sort of heaven for people who look better in various shades of brown and burgundy. Also, I noticed visors. When I am in heaven and God is shining with the light of ten thousand suns, I really see myself as more of a shades person. Hope you start feeling de-blogstipated soon, I want to hear you hate on the kid haters more.

    Mimi April 9, 2007 at 8:00 pm

    You should just farm out the backlog of writing. We could have a corvée of post-building, you know like a real old fashioned barn raiser.

    How’s that for community ;-)

    Ruth Dynamite April 9, 2007 at 8:13 pm

    You may be blogstipated, but your explosive snippets are rich with substance. (Unlike, well…)

    Blog on.

    Lisa b April 9, 2007 at 8:19 pm

    I do not think you should be loose with those arrows in the mood you are in.

    Now I must go read about mothers and heaven and get all irritated too.

    jennster April 9, 2007 at 8:24 pm

    woman. i heart you. times infinity and beyond. like buzz lightyear. come kiss me!

    Mouse April 9, 2007 at 8:28 pm

    I’m trying to do the math that is mother + atheist + having sworn I wouldn’t want to go to your heaven even if there were one.

    And thank you for the helpful arrow-carrying tips.

    bubandpie April 9, 2007 at 8:33 pm

    This post reminds me of the various rants I’d unleash whenever I heard that execrable Pearl Jam rendition of “Last Kiss.” Theological error after theological error…grr.

    Lawyer Mama April 9, 2007 at 8:36 pm

    Good to know about the arrows. I wouldn’t want to be too matchy match. Or, you know, impale myself.

    I hadn’t heard of the All Moms Go to Heaven thing. I’ll have to run right off and enter. Baaaaahaaaaa!

    Mom101 April 9, 2007 at 8:37 pm

    You are freaking hilarious, C.

    My sense is that as a Jew, I’m not entitled to go to heaven as some people see it. But then I remember…wait, we don’t believe in heaven. And suddenly I feel much better.

    I could definitely get into “why all moms get into to Haagen Dazs” though. Or better yet: “Why all moms get into Haagen Dazs without waiting on line, even on the first warm Sunday in April when everyone in Brooklyn is there, and once you do your chocolate peanut butter double scoop is free.”

    Why can’t that be a contest?

    Mary-LUE April 9, 2007 at 8:43 pm

    Okay, this is off-topic (and someone else may have asked this–I admit I’m going in comment-blind right now) but what did you end up reading on the plane? I’m soooooo curiuos!

    crazymumma April 9, 2007 at 8:59 pm

    as to #3 – the teletubbies.

    bigirl is insisting we rent them as she hasn’t seen them in so long, this was the impact they made i the fertile ground we call her brain. And she is not the only almost 10 year old out there talking teletubbies these days.

    All the rage I would say.

    In those early days sitting watching TV with her, mr mumma and I would sit dazed and stupid and remark in small scared grunts about how the TT reminded us of theory class in art school.

    NotSoSage April 9, 2007 at 9:14 pm

    ugh. I’ve been blogstipated for months! and I can’t even begin to catch up because I just can’t post more often.

    I love mimi’s idea. We’ll just start up a bloggy collective. Okay, mimi, your task for today is to write a post about ____. Sound good?

    slouching mom April 9, 2007 at 10:04 pm

    I love this. Your brain is zinging this way and that just like those misdirected and mismatched arrows.

    It’s very stream of consciousness.

    I like what’s in that brain of yours, HBM.

    I think I especially like it when you’re all pissed off.

    LSM April 9, 2007 at 10:04 pm

    I am so frightened by the All Moms Go To Heaven site. And, if I did want to proclaim my membership in the “close to perfect” mom club by buying a logo t-shirt or visor, would I also really want to buy a matching t-shirt for my DOG? Quite an interesting marketing ploy.

    Jennifer April 9, 2007 at 10:09 pm

    The All Moms Go to Heaven Thing is real!?

    I don’t think I’ll make it unless I buy a snazzy T-shirt from them.

    Oh well.

    Hope your blogstipation clears soon! It must be wickedly uncomfortable!

    Christina April 9, 2007 at 10:09 pm

    I wish I could get behind All Moms Go To Heaven, but I know far too many moms who certainly don’t deserve heaven, much less a Mother’s Day card.

    Pgoodness April 9, 2007 at 10:13 pm

    I know blogstipation (great word!!) and the many thoughts that swirl round and round in my head that I want to blog and just can’t.

    All Moms got to heaven? WTF? I got as far as the sentence about why there are no mom museums and I couldn’t click away from it fast enough!!

    Hope you feel better soon.

    mcewen April 9, 2007 at 10:16 pm

    Dare I display my ignorance publicly and request a translation of ‘MILF’? Is it an American thing or a blog thing or neither?

    kristen April 9, 2007 at 10:20 pm

    Well if there was any chance you were going to go to heaven, you sure done blew it with that post.


    Her Bad Mother April 9, 2007 at 10:24 pm

    mcewen: Mommy I’d Like to F***. Not a neologism of the blogosphere, but prolly born in North America.

    MaryLUE: Mean Boy, by Lynne Coady. Now I’m working my way through the rest of the recommendations – and I’ll prolly need a whole ‘nother blog just to cover all my thoughts on those.

    And, yes, K – ha. I AM going to hell. But I hope that it’s a Haagen Daz hell.

    moodswingingmommy April 9, 2007 at 10:25 pm

    What the hell is All Moms Go to Heaven? …toddling off to check…
    Oh yuck!

    Having just discovered your blog, I’m looking forward to you finding some relief from your ailment. What an enticing preview of coming attractions! The arrow caption is priceless!

    Awesome Mom April 9, 2007 at 10:26 pm

    I can’t wait to see you post on the whole all moms go to heaven idea.

    Jenifer April 9, 2007 at 10:30 pm

    If this is you blogstipated, yowzer! One of my most annoying problems is not being able to “turn off” my brain.

    Clearly I don’t get around the blogosphere enough. All Mom’s go to Heaven? I am Catholic and I find that so offensive. Motherhood and sainthood are not the same thing.

    I hope you can find some peace while you rest your noggin.

    Girl con Queso April 9, 2007 at 10:34 pm

    Holy hell. “And, also, the Ten Reasons Why Claiming An Association Between The Fate Of Human Souls And Reproductive Practices Is Also Probably Philosophically Untenable And Very Possibly Illiberal, Too.” This is why I come here. Because of your wonderful brain and your liberal use of the word illiberal.

    And, yeah, what does count as authenticity in the momosphere?

    Dutch April 9, 2007 at 11:00 pm

    until now I had no idea how much our stroller was missing a quiver.

    flutter April 9, 2007 at 11:11 pm

    Well matchy matchy arrowheads aside, that horrendous mom can suck my left ass cheek, directly before I beat the fucking crap out of her.

    Whew. Language. I need some fiber.

    Gwen April 9, 2007 at 11:22 pm

    When you find the cure for blostipation, let us know. I’ve got ideas from last year still rumbling about, generating all sorts of noxious gases. Kind of like the Haloed moms. I checked that out, all ready to defend it, just to out contrary the uber contrarian, but uh …. nope, couldn’t do it. They lost me with the Halos.

    kittenpie April 9, 2007 at 11:27 pm

    This is why I have a draft file running an average of fifteen posts-in-progress… Someday I’ll get to the ones I started last summer! Just keep getting distracted by funner, cuter, more timely things to say.

    Lady M April 9, 2007 at 11:39 pm

    Blogstipation is an excellent word.

    My usual cure is to post a cute picture and go to sleep. It’ll all be better tomorrow.

    Jenn April 9, 2007 at 11:42 pm

    well, now I know how to co-ordinate my arrows … for the next time I go, um, archery-ing. Or whatever.

    And I whole-heartedly agree: I would have a very difficult time being happy going to a heaven with a bunch of moms – should I manage to accept *that* concept – if we will all be wearing that shade of pink. gack.

    Mad Hatter April 10, 2007 at 12:00 am

    Is it blogstipation or bloggy dire rear? It seems that the ideas are all there and the minute you find time to post they come squirting out. I thought blogstipation had to do with not being able to think of anything to write rather than suffering the bubbling cramps of so many ideas that they threaten to unload in a post that is just intended as a holding place.

    OK, enough contemplation of blogs and poo. This was funny no matter what label of regularity is applied to it.

    Anonymous April 10, 2007 at 12:02 am

    okay so i had no idea what MILF meant.blogstipated is a great word HBM.and no none of what i came up with for MILF was even problem is that my mind never shuts off.the wheels are always where did that idea about all moms going-not going to heaven come from argh mz teen son has the language set to russian on here. so can not find some things.argh.LAVENDULA

    something blue April 10, 2007 at 12:36 am

    You’ve got it because you don’t realize that you’ve got it. For real.

    I will be out shopping tomorrow for my very own arrowheads. But mom’s who let their children play with sharp object often don’t RIP in the VIP section.

    1/2 cup of All Bran works wonders.

    Mrs. Chicken April 10, 2007 at 12:54 am

    Still laughing about bad Renaissance mothers …

    Beck April 10, 2007 at 6:10 am

    A woman I know has, as her PRIMARY GOAL IN LIFE, the aim to be desirable to her son’s (who is currently three) teenage friends.
    I need an emoticon that mixes horror and scorn and the desire for fatty snacks while watching television late in the evening….
    I hear you about the blogging problems. My posts lately have been less than inspired.

    krista April 10, 2007 at 8:19 am

    I have blogstipation too!

    Bond. Bond Bond.

    We are authentically bonding here over our blogsitpation right? right?


    kgirl April 10, 2007 at 8:33 am

    Phew. Luckily, I’m a Jew and we don’t need Heaven. But, I’m sure that as I’m called back as a chosen person, I can hold out my hand and you can hop aboard. We’ll have fun.

    MotherBumper April 10, 2007 at 8:48 am

    Yellow arrows would have looked soo much more classy. And my uterus is used? Does that make my resale value go up or down? I’m confused…

    Janet a.k.a. "Wonder Mom" April 10, 2007 at 9:36 am

    Don’t worry, take a good ‘Blenema’ and empty out your system…

    feel better.

    Kyla April 10, 2007 at 10:11 am

    I could mail you some Miralax. It helps with KayTar’s constipation…maybe it works for blogging, too? Haha! Looking forward to “Pedophobes Are The New Racists, So Let’s Shame Them Already.” it sounds promising. *lol*

    Magpie April 10, 2007 at 10:42 am

    This mom isn’t going to heaven, either, because there isn’t one.

    Mimi April 10, 2007 at 11:11 am

    Ooooh. Mean Boy. Liked it. And being a mean girl, I bought it at a reading that paired Lynn Coady and **Leah McLaren** and I pointedly did not buy the latter’s book. She’s a godawful reader in public, by the way. Lynn Coady? Inspired.

    Yours in commentarhea,

    nomotherearth April 10, 2007 at 11:12 am

    Ugh. I just clicked on the homepage for All Moms Go to Heaven and I’m already annoyed (and I haven’t even read it yet).

    gingajoy April 10, 2007 at 11:23 am

    I’ll join you in that special corner reserves for all those of us who did not make it to the Special Corner. Yeah. Whole thing is a bit effed up, as far as I am concerned. And odd.

    Oh, and that pic of me? Do I look fat in that top? I do, don’t I. (heheheh)

    Redneck Mommy April 10, 2007 at 11:31 am

    You chickies are HOT!!!

    I’d hit on you. But then I have a thing for ladies with big foreheads and squat little leprechauns.


    I better step things up, if this is your idea of blogstipated…

    Oh, The Joys April 10, 2007 at 11:34 am

    If I could watch you perform this post as a monologue I would pay huge money.

    Kelly April 10, 2007 at 11:34 am

    And yet your blogstipations are still so lovely and witty. How do you do it?

    Anonymous April 10, 2007 at 11:37 am

    Oh My…such hate for awesome Mom’s who break their back everyday to do the best they can for their kids. Yes, there are some who have given birth – and everyone would have been better off if they had not. But they are not Mom’s. They are women with children. And that is a big difference! The phrase All Moms Go To Heaven is intended to be fun and light – not a phophecy, and 99.99% of people get it. That is not to say that just because you are a mom you are perfect – rather even though Mom’s are imperfect just like you, they deserve much more appreciation and recognition than they have ever gotten – both at home and in our society. And even the most cynical of the cynics knows that on some level.

    Her Bad Mother April 10, 2007 at 11:55 am

    Anon – this was not intended to be hateful. As I note – after acknowledging that it is well-intended and all – I’m just being contrary. And to the extent that it is pissy – it’s not pissy at moms, nor is it pissy at the notion that moms are underappreciated (*I* am an overworked, broke-backed mom) – it’s expressing my discomfort with the idea that there is something holy about motherhood. And that may indeed say more about me than it does any mom who wears a halo on her t-shirt. But it’s not hate. Know the difference.

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