Guilt

Confession: I went to journalism grad school. After that, I worked in the web industry for 5 years. And then I got laid off and had kids.

How could I not be blogging?

Imagine my guilt. A writer, an internet geek, AND a mom. Words should be pouring from my fingertips, leaping onto the screen. And yet: no blog.

It’s not for lack of trying. My oldest will be turning 8 this month — we’ll call her Frances. My younger one is 4, and for these purposes she’ll be Gloria. Since they were born I’ve started no less than 5 blogs. None of them have more than 3 entries.

First there was the “wonder of new parenting” blog, which was mostly about sleep deprivation. And naps. The baby’s, not mine.

Then I tried the “helpful mommy tips” angle, but realized my font of motherly wisdom was limited to selecting a diaper bag and packing it.

There was the “healthy daily recipes for kids” attempt, but that one was pure Fantasyland. Gloria has not voluntarily eaten a fruit or vegetable since I was spooning pea puree into her mouth in the high chair. Blogging about healthy meals did not miraculously make Gloria eat a banana. I gave up after she rejected three days’ worth of lovingly prepared cuisine worthy of Jessica Seinfeld.

Then there were the ideas that never made it past the edit button. The snarky blog. The parody blog. The “wean my family from television in 30 days” blog. (I can’t even tell you how well that one would have gone over.)

Sometime last year, in the middle of the night, I reserved a domain name. I was going to blog once and for all. My guilt would be absolved. It was all hinging on this name, this perfect, brilliant name. By some stroke of fate the domain name was available. One visit to GoDaddy and I was well on my way to bloggerhood.

Something occurred to me the next morning. It’s a testament to my continuing sleep deprivation after all these years that it didn’t occur to me sooner.

“Hop On Mom,” I said to my husband. “Hop On Mom Dot Com. It doesn’t sound like… a porn site, does it?”

There was no good way to answer that. At 12:15 a.m. I had purchased a domain name that sounded like Google’s response to someone looking for MILFs. My future site picked up ads: “Date a Transgender.” “Moms Masturbating!”

So that was a no-go.

Welcome to my latest attempt. There is no theme. I don’t have seven kids. We all watch TV. And apparently the only time I do really funny things is when I’m trying to purchase domain names.

Here’s hoping this one makes it past three entries.