Saturday, November 23, 2013
Repost and Update of My Treatise on Mormon Mommy Blogs
Because I have apparent masochistic tendencies, I sometimes click on the "next blog" button on the Blogspot bar. I don't know if the sites to which I am led when I click on the button are truly representative of what's out there in Blogspot's corner of the blogosphere, or if I just happen to get lucky on an extremely regular basis. Whichever it is, at least once out of every four times that I click, I land squarely in the middle of a Mormon Mommy blog.
I have nothing against Mormons. Maybe I do, actually, but I don't hate all of them, especially since I am a half-Mormon, if there really is such a thing. I was blessed in an LDS church and, through a statistical and record-keeping anomaly, was baptized by proxy for numerous dead people in a Mormon temple even though I was never baptized for myself outside of a Mormon temple, which is supposed to happen before a person is allowed to undertake the same ordinance on behalf of others. Along the same line, my brother, who was not baptized LDS, either, holds the Aaronic Priesthood of the LDS church. We Rousseaus seem to be incredibly talented at being Mormons to the extent that we're allowed to skip steps considered essential for others. We pass Go and collect our two hundred dollar stipends without troubling ourselves with Chance, Community Chest, or any pesky luxury taxes. Screw the baby steps. We're damn talented at being Mormons, all right, we Rousseaus are.
Getting back to the subject at hand, while I may take many cheap shots at Mormons and Mormonism, many people whom I love or about whom I care are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Some of them are mothers. Paradoxically, though, they're not Mormon Mommies. Merely being both a Mormon and a mother does not make a person a MormonMommy. Being a Mormon Mommy involves exponentially more than practicing a religion and begetting children. Mormon Mommies are far more special than anything so mundane.
A Mormon Mommy gives her children beautiful names such as Kennedie, Shelayna, Gracie Claire, or Sariah. Sariah is the only woman mentioned by name in the Book of Mormon, in the event anyone is interested, which is, I acknowledge, only the most remote of possibilities. A Mormon Mommy is likewise fond of creative spellings. Anne or Ann is much more beautiful and meaningful if spelled Annne. Similarly, why spell a child's name M-e-l-i-s-s-a when M-a-l-l-y-s-s-a is available? On a related note, a Mormon Mommy is most affronted by the inadvertent misspelling or mispronunciation of her child's name. Furthermore, lest anyone bask in the misconception that creativity in spelling or in the given name itself is an honor bestowed only upon female offspring, conceive again. A review of recent records reveals such gems as Kyson, Bryxler, Tylon, Monson (named for the current LDS prophet, seer, and revelator -- not to be confused with monsoon) and Rainn Beau. One would need to venture deep into the bowels of the most ghetto-ish segment of urban America to find anything approaching the naming system employed by even the most creativity-challenged Mormon Mommy in the pack.
A Mormon Mommy spends most of her waking hours actively engaged with Pinterest: creating projects she learned about on Pinterest, photographing her Pinterestic creations, and publishing her phantasmagoric Pinterest results there and elsewhere. She can and does blog for weeks at a time exclusively about hairstyles she gleaned from Pinterest. Her children's birthday parties (the themes and implementation procedures of which exclusively sprang from Pinterest) are documented with photographic evidence there and elsewhere more exhaustively than was the birth of Jesus.
One may have come to the conclusion that I harbor some sort of ill will toward Pinterest, which could not be further from the case. While I personally possess no inherent desire to create [however classy they may be] Christmas card holders from recycled Tampax boxes, or, for that matter, to create anything through any process that involves the use of a glue gun, I'm relatively open-minded in regard to allowing others that privilege; I just don't want to hear about it. What happens on Pinterest should remain on Pinterest. If I'm sitting on a chair that just so happens to have been slip-covered with individual Starburst wrappers that were melted with a steaming iron onto fabric recycled from discarded hospital gowns or cloth napkins too ratty to remain in use at Olive Garden, please leave me to wallow in my ignorance as to the process utilized in the creation of this one-of-a-kind work of art on which I'm seated. If the chair is too precious for me to sit on, just say so, but don't torture me with cumbersome details about the preciousness of the chair. I don't want to read about it on Blogspot, either. If anyone genuinely desires to know about a Mormon Mommy's unique upholstery technique, or, for that matter, about the bizarre hygiene products that can be created in one's own kitchen using only cornstarch, baking soda, candle wax, and Herbal Essence Shampoo, the person probably knows how to find Pinterest. The rest of the world would appreciate being spared the gory details. Once again, repeat after me: What happens on Pinterest should remain on Pinterest.
Standard written English and a Mormon Mommy are not usually best friends or even casual acquaintances. A Mormon Mommy connects independent clauses with commas.("We are laughing, we are friends.") The distinction between adjectives and adverbs is not a matter to which she gives much [if any] thought. Likewise, if subject/verb agreement happens, fine; if it fails to happen, that, too, is fine. Pronoun/antecedent compatibility? Whoever heard of such a thing? A Mormon Mommy uses apostrophes liberally, though not necessarily in any way of which David Foster Wallace or any other linguist would approve. (The Anderson's had BLAST'S at Alicias' and at Great-Grandmas "60th" birthday bash's.) Blogspot's spelling correction feature keeps a Mormon Mommy's blog from containing even more spelling errors than a person would find in an average posting of this blog (I admit to being a notoriously poor typist who doesn't always take the time that I should to edit), but provides more than enough homophonic (and, for that matter, homo phobic) errors to make up for the lack of outright spelling miscues. ("My grate-grate-grandfather still serves on the steak high counsel and sings base in the choir. He and my grate-grate-grandmother receive sew many complements about they're many descendence whenever there entire family is together, like at my cousins bridle shower.") Exclamation points are a Mormon Mommy's best friend, and she hearts them!!!!! (Please note: a Mormon Mommy does not like, love, esteem, adore, care for, possess fondness for, delight in, lust after, [or anything else so banal] any person, place, thing, or idea. She hearts said person, place, thing, or idea. This is an imperative distinction.)
I most certainly hold no disdain for LDS mothers as a whole. I'm related to a great many of them, some of with whom I'm on speaking terms in a given decade. It is essential for me to clarify that the mere attributes of being affiliated with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and having given birth to or raised a child do not automatically bestow upon a person the distinction or appellation of Mormon Mommy. (Please put on your critical thinking hat for just a moment.) Sometimes the sum of two parts is greater than or less than the whole. One plue one can, on rare occasions, equal more than just two. On equally rare occasions, it can equal less than two. Not every LDS woman who claims the title of mother is a Mormon Mommy. It's a riddle wrapped in an enigma inside a mystery, all enclosed in a nutshell, and it's absolutely no coincidence that it's a nutshell holding the thing together. (You can take off your critical thinking hat now.)
As unfair as it may seem, not every Mormon mommy is a Mormon Mommy. Religious affiliation and parental status notwithstanding, not just anyone can be a Mormon Mommy. Not everyone can be 5'7" with big boobs, either. Sometimes life is unfair, and those who cannot accept the occasional rotten hand dealt to them have little recourse other than, perhaps, to sue God.
I once shared my feelings concerning Mormon Mommy blogs with my dad, who said, predictably enough to anyone who knows my dad, "If you don't like 'em, don't read 'em." I suppose I could try to follow his advice, but it's not half simple as it would seem to be. Mormon Mommy blogs are the proverbial train wreck from which I cannot turn away. Furthermore, I reserve the [U.S. Counstitution's] first amendment-supported right to criticize what I find worthy of criticism, and if anything is worthy of criticism, it's the average Mormon Mommy blog.