Friday, February 4, 2011

Attack of the Superblogs

I have found a new hobby. And with all new hobbies comes the accompanying depression, followed by low self esteem and guilt. Sounds rediculous that a hobby can be so damaging to a person but that's the way I tick.

I found one of my old dolls from my childhood and thought Sophie would like to play with it. It was grubby and had no clothes. I was inspired to make new clothes for her and give her a wee clean up.

So I jump online and look for patterns and ideas for clothes for the doll. I come across an endless stream of blogs showing me magnificent things I can make for the doll, for my kids and my house.

I have made her a really pretty patchwork skirt and a top that I'm really, really proud of. I took my time, I was carefull and I enjoyed making it. usually I rush though, focusing on finishing rather than the process and then end up with a less than desirable result. This is how a hobby should work - you put in effort, time and enjoyment and get something out of it at the end, good stuff like pride, contentment and satisfaction. I wish it could stay like that for me.

Following my initial success is a huge boost of enthusiasm. Every spare hour of the day I'm sewing, reading about sewing or thinking about it. I churn out several things. The quality starts to diminish because my concentration is lagging as is my attention to detail. The washing piles up and I get a little grumpy at the kids.

Then it gets worse. I read and I read too much. I bombard my brain with blog after blog. I like to think I'm reasonably smart (though I'm doubting this at the moment). I know how these blogs work. I know that one gorgeous photo of a perfectly made item or wonderful activity for a child can hide a pile of dishes, a mum in PJs or a tantruming child. I know that people usually portray themselves as being far more competant and organised than they really are.

The more I read these blogs the more each one melts into the other, creating this super blog in my mind. Written by a woman who can sew anything in no time, has a fully stocked pantry, fridge and baking tins, has a happy and content family who are being cared for in a wonderfully nurturing way. She wears makeup, she uses all eco friendly products, everything is 'natural', everything is home made and wholesome, she donates to charities and looks after every waif and stray in the neighbourhood. She wears all 5 of her kids 24/7 and they have never cried.

Now I sit here with my son in bed, crying because he's overtired and just generally hacked off. My daughter is sulking in her room because I wanted her to have a rest (I wanted her to rest so that I could get peace and quiet). My husband is in bed, sore from an injury that I haven't been taking care of. I'm watching Funniest Home Videos in an attepmt to make myself feel better but all I feel is inadequacy. I can never live up to the superblog image that I have created but I also can't let it go.

As a teen my unobtainable goal was created from women's magazines. Now my unobtainable goal is created from blogs and forums. The very place I turn to for support and entertainment is also contributing to my mental demise.

Just so that this doesn't contribute to superblog - 10 ways I'm not perfect:

1) I don't feel sympathy when my daughter hurts herself and cries, the crying just annoys me.

2) I yell at my kids - sometimes

3) I'm overweight, know how to change and haven't.

4) I grumped at my husband all yesterday even though he's injured and in pain

5) My son is STILL crying and I'm STILL typing on here, trying to escape it.

6) My bedroom is a mess

7) My laundry basket is overflowing to twice it's height

8) Some of the washing is into it's 3rd day on the line

9) This past month my kids have eaten more baked beans and spagetti than proper cooked meals

10) Sophie doesn't even like the dolls clothes I have made.


Ooh I think he's stopped

1 comment:

Rachel said...

Your post was very refreshing and honest. It's tough being a mum, a wife, an individual and I think it takes courage to see and admit the truth.