my friend kelly o discussed today a bit from punditmom (how’s that for a name check moment?) on what we women bloggers who happen to be moms should call ourselves. my knee-jerk moment was to applaud when kelly mentioned the concept of mother bloggers — anything that sounds like a nasty expletive (“you shut up, you effing motherblogger!”) works for me on most days.

i do find it a little disheartening to have to label myself a mommy blogger whenever someone asks me to categorize what i do. i am proud as all get-out to be a mom; i worked (and continue to work) very hard to become a mom and a somewhat decent one, though there are days when my kids would be better off raised by wolves than by me.

and yes, i do tend to talk about my kids when i write in this wonderful forum which apparently is read by plenty of people (and here’s a big hello to you folks out there who i don’t know — say hey in the comments section, if you ever have a minute. wish i could pour you some coffee, but what i have is probably too old or cold for decent folks like yourselves!)

but you know, the minute you call yourself a “mommy” anything in public, or even a mom, you get discounted. a favorite story concerns one of my best friends, who left a high powered career on the Hill to become a kick-ass, one-of-a-kind, stay at home mother (SAHM). i aspire to be as astonishing a human being as she is in every facet of her life. anyway, the father of a mutual friend passed away, and we were standing at his house during the shiva visit, chatting away. at the time, i was still working outside my home while she was firmly entrenched in the SAHM world. she was telling me how whenever she is introduced in certain DC circles as a SAHM, suddenly conversation ceases and people actually shun her. i couldn’t believe her, so she told me to just watch and learn.

i saw her approach a group of well-dressed women. she joined their group for a few moments. i watched the faces of the women when my friend was speaking. you could see a certain look of ohmygawd, phyllis schlafly has entered the building. (you should know that my friend is further left of center than i am.) then, for a few minutes, they seemed to talk around her until she excused herself wordlessly and returned to me.

when i asked her what happened, she indicated that they introduced themselves, and she did as well. when she said she was a SAHM, they didn’t know what to say. so they all started to talk around her like she wasn’t there. so she walked away.

so to be called a mommy anything is like being called a stuffed teddy bear, methinks. being labelled a mommy anything makes it seem like you never give a thought to anything else in the world. just pee and poo and soccer and baking cookies.

i’d like to think my world is a little bigger than that.

no one called one of my idols, erma bombeck, a mommy columnist. they call her an american humorist. i’d like to be called the same. at least, on days when i’m remotely funny.

or when i slip on a banana peel.