Motherhood Uncensored

Who's responsible for Seth MacFarlane's Oscar performance? We are.

I have a strict no-cartoon adult show personal policy, which is why I'd suck at The Simpsons trivia. It's also why I had no idea who Seth MacFarlane was last night other than a dead ringer for Peter Brady.

The Family Guy! Ted! 

I admit I was uncomfortable after the first joke he made about Ben Affleck's Best Director nomination snub, but then came the Boob Song and the "Aren't you glad you got the flu so you could fit in those dresses?" "jokes" and all I wanted was for the Jaws music to start playing for him any time he opened his mouth. 

Then it turns out The Onion called 9-year old Best Actress nominee a cunt on Twitter, which they later deleted and apologized for, but not until the Tweet became widely circulated and had most of us wondering what the fuck is going on with this world. 

As much ire as there is about The Onion's tweet, there's as much defense for Seth MacFarlane's performance, even though NPR, The Atlantic, USA Today, and Salon (just to name a bunch) pretty much tore him to pieces. 

"It's his act," a commenter replied. 

"You need to lighten up," someone told me on Twitter. 

And well, because Jennifer Lawrence thought it was funny then maybe we all just don't have a sense of humor. Because we can trust an Academy Award winner to critique the organization that just handed her a bazillion more dollars wrapped up in that coveted statue. 

No, we all just don't have a misogynist sense of humor.

I'm not surprised one bit that people are defending Seth MacFarlane, even women with boobs who somehow feel superior at their appreciation for his jokes. He's made these kind of jokes for 12 years, right? We've watched his shows and gone to his movies. We've handed over our money to support this crap. 

Well I haven't, anyway. But that's how he got the gig right? Not because no one had ever heard of him. 

Can you imagine if the tables were turned? And Tina Fey and Amy Poehler did a whole song and dance number about seeing the pensises of actors in films. Or they riffed about Christianity. Or made a black face joke.

Sounds awful, not to mention sexist and racist. 

Yeah, it's not their schtick but it never would be. We'd never allow women to be so woefully offensive without verbally casting stones at her in a public forum. 

So why does Seth MacFarlane get a "get out of jail free" card? 

Because we give it to him, willingly. 

Edited: Gawker did a montage of all the sexist and racist Seth MacFarlane jokes. 

Blogger Outreach 101. Again.

Apparently yesterday was "Something for Nothing" Day at work because I was bombarded with various emails with all the same sort of offer: 

You write X, X, and X, Tweet X, and Share Photos of X and we will give you NOT ENOUGH Xs. 

There's the offer to give a client a complimentary high-priced ad placement for a certain amount of giveaway items, which is met with "Sure, but we'd like XXXXXXXX" (translation: 20x the amount of the giveaway items we're asking for which was 20x less than the cost of that spot, by the way). 

My favorite is "WHAT WOULD YOU TAKE INSTEAD OF X?" the obvious answer being "Bradley Cooper and Ryan Gosling." 

Julie wisely decided not to send that as a reply. One of the many reasons she rocks. 

This is not an uncommon occurrence for bloggers as you may have read 4000 times over the last many years, but lately instead of product review pitches with FREE PRODUCTS sprayed at whoever will bite, it's this offer of sponsored content and "we'll obviously pay you for your time" which is a little more hopeful and forward thinking until you see what that actually means. 

And you're right, marketing people who want to work with bloggers, offering monetary compensation for work that bloggers are going to provide you is a step in the right direction, but it's not the end all, especially when you toss around the same figures to various bloggers of different influence, rank, and traffic size. 

It would be as if you were looking to hire someone and sent out an invitation to a bunch of applicants, some with a High School Diploma, some with an undergraduate degree, and some with a PhD and were like "Here's what we can pay you!" and then were surprised when most of the applicants were like "HUH? Did you see my resume'?" and you were like "But why? At least I'm offering you money!" 

You will get what you pay for in this business, which doesn't necessarily mean poor quality of writing all of you who are like HEY NOW! It could mean a smaller following, a weaker social media footprint (barf), less relevance to readers, smaller influence, which combined all together could be the traffic numbers and page views and tweets you're looking for. 

But it's not fair to send out a mass email to a bunch of "mommy bloggers" on some crappy list you bought or gathered on your own based on who knows what, and expect everyone to say "YAY MONEY WE'RE BEING PAID FINALLY!"

To use myself as an example, I would not expect to make near as much on this blog as I would on Cool Mom Picks or Cool Mom Tech, just from a pure numbers standpoint. 

This isn't to devalue smaller blogs PLEASE LET'S NOT GO THERE. Rather, it's to point out the shock and chagrin of many companies doing little to no research before reaching out to bloggers when their emails are met with "That's wonderful, here's what our sponsored posts start at..." 

To be fair, many companies have come back to say "Ah, okay, I'd love to hear more about what you would do" and it's turned into really awesome working relationships. 

I even appreciate the "I'm sorry that we can't pay that rate, but we'll revisit this in the future when we do have the budget." 

But on the flip side, these are the kind of things to be fleshed out prior to emailing a huge list of people. These are things that people get paid by large firms to do.

So bloggers: Look at your value, whether it's your traffic, your social media following, your KLOUT (ha, kidding. Sort of. Whatever), your reader engagement (which isn't just comments anymore), and reply with an acceptance (if it's what you'd make), a counteroffer (if it's a less but not too far off), or your actual rate along with a few reasons why without saying "HERE'S WHY."

Usually a "I'm happy to provide you with sponsored content which starts at XX and will reach my # readers, # follwers, # email subscribers" does well.

The "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" method rarely works and could prevent you from further work with them. Though trust me, it's tempting. 

And people reaching out to bloggers: Take a quick look at who you're pitching. Press pages, social media following, even Alexa, and consider using a sliding scale of some sort. Expect that all bloggers won't all want to be paid the same thing and make allowances. Advocate for why you would want to work with fewer bloggers or certain bloggers. 

Who knows if this will have huge impact on the emails being sent to bloggers, because I get that lots of bloggers = lots of numbers and that still makes lots of big companies light up like a Christmas tree.

But perhaps it will quell the vocal surprise when it's not overwhelming cheers for that $20 gift card and $100 for the three posts, 10 tweets and 2 Facebook updates you're asking for. 

I only wish that was an exaggeration.  

{photo via}

The best accidental conversation with a voice in my rearview mirror that I've ever had.

Last night I was trying to adjust the rearview mirror in my husband's car and I accidentally called OnStar. 

I was looking for the button tab thing that you just flip, but he has a fancy new car with the mirrors that are supposed to automatically change or something but they didn't and instead of pulling the tab or just, you know, adjusting the entire mirror, I pushed the OnStar button. 

I then pushed it a few hundred more times to get it to stop ringing but it was too late and suddenly I was talking to a perky lady in my rearview mirror. 

"Hello! How can we help you this evening? Have you called to get instructions on how to use your new Chevy Sonic?" 

OH. THE. IRONY. 

"Oh, uh, hi there, actually, I just accidentally pushed the button trying to figure out how to fix the rearview mirror." 

"Well, that's no problem Mrs. MY HUSBAND'S NAME HOLY SHIT HOW DOES SHE KNOW THIS. I can send you over to our NAME OF DEPARTMENT FOR IDIOTS LIKE YOU WHO DON'T KNOW HOW TO USE THEIR CAR." 

"Oh *chuckle* that's not necessary. It appears I have actually figured it out myself. You'd never know it but I do actually have a college degree!"

"*Laughter* Oh I needed to hear that tonight!"

Glad to provide you with some entertainment, lady in my rearview mirror.

"Now, is there anything else I can help you with?" 

"No no! But thank you so much for your, uh, company. Sorry to bother you!" 

I hung up and giggled a bit about with my daughter, who seemed completely unphased that I just called someone who knew pretty much everything about me with my rearview mirror because like duh this happens all the time. 

Is this how it felt for our parents when they first saw a fax machine and were like BUT HOW DOES IT SEND THE WORDS?

God, I'm getting old. 

{photo via}

Play with your kids like they're someone else's

One of the great pleasures of visiting New York, other that sushi delivery, is that I get to see two of my most favorite people in the whole world: Liz's girls. 

"You have six kids now!" they giggled, after we had finished a rousing game of apartment ball toss (which involves bouncing a small ball and catching it with your feet while you're sitting in a chair, if you're wondering). 

You would think that with four kids at home, I'd want to hide myself away in a quiet corner somewhere so I could hear my own thoughts. 

But that's not actually the case. There's something comforting about plopping down next to my dear friend (and business partner) and her couch and working like we would if we had an office. 

And I really do like spending time with her kids, playing with them, eating my beloved sushi while they nibble on white rice and soy sauce, and then taking way too many goofy photos on my computer. 

I'd like to think I'd play with my own kids the same way if we weren't actually in our house, the same way beloved aunts and uncles, grandmas and grandpas, even that favorite babysitter do. 

Because with having kids comes a messy house and piles of laundry and 4000 other things on your list that seem so pressing that actually playing with them and enjoying their company seems like another thing on the list. 

But when you're a guest, when there's someone else to do all that, and you can be the fun one, who pretends her legs are a tightrope for little girls to walk up. 

I've often joked that I'm a really good parent outside of my house, not just to other peoples' kids, but to my own, when the trappings of home ownership and the responsibilities of adulthood are temporarily put on hold. The phone turned off and tucked away in my purse, and the bills and  the taxes that are due and GOD WHAT DO I MAKE FOR DINNER are paused, if only for a few hours. 

And suddenly I'm no longer a spectator in my own kids' lives. 

Soon the requests for me to play tea and princess and chase will stop because they'll learn that "in a minute" actually means "never." And the things that I think are so pressing, the ridiculous minute inconsequential things (in the long scheme, of course) are more important. 

Somehow I've led myself to believe that I should be able to juggle just as well when I'm home alone as when I've got my husband home to help me, which really makes no logical sense whatsoever, as if the messy floor and unfolded laundry are some indication of failure. 

Instead of a to-do list, I'm starting a "DO RIGHT NOW" and a "WHAT CAN WAIT" list. The clothes might be more wrinkled. The floors will be less clean. 

And I'll probably still be exhausted. But from too much tea and dress-up and playing apartment ball toss with my own kids. 

Get busy living

Last month, after feeling like I was spending all my idle time being a voyeur in other peoples' lives, I made the decision to delete the Facebook app off my iPhone and ditch Instagram.

Part of it comes from having a bit of social media overload since it's what I do for a living. 

But another part was this notion that the lives of everyone else just weren't as important as my own. 

At face value I suppose that sounds selfish. But when you really think about it, you're sifting through the constant cascade of mostly meaningless information and weird photos of people's lunches from "friends" you hardly know when you could be doing other things that could really use your attention more. 

Sure, it's sweet avoidance and a sexy time killer. It's a feeder of the beast that is procrastination. 

 And it's saved me many a time.

But then what?

This is a criticism we "mommy bloggers" have gotten for many years now, that we spend so much of our time and sink our heart and soul into telling our story and our kids' stories that we don't actually get to experience it with them. 

This is also a criticism we've called bullshit on for many years now. We live it and then write it. That's what memoirists do. What personal bloggers (or whatever we're calling them now) do.

But now there's Instagram and the Vine app (which allows you to share 6 second video silent video clips), and hell still Facebook and Twitter at times, and it's almost like we're so busy showing people what we did or what we are doing that we become even more removed from our own actual experience of it.

We are telling it as it is happening, which means by all accounts there's a lot we're going to miss out on.

I'm hardly pointing a finger at anyone because I know how much of a double-edged sword this is, especially when I'm co-hosting an event where tweets and photos and a visible tally is important to show success. Liz always said that the sign of a really good party is when no one is tweeting while they're at it. 

But I get that having a great time without telling anyone isn't great for ROI.

So here's the question: What's the ROI on your life? 

I'm not saying we can't be actors in and directors of our own movies. We all want so desperately to take the memories that we are making with our children and freeze them in time. So we snap and click and press record in an attempt to hold on to what we know we're going to lose.

Time is a parent's nemesis. 

But if we spend so much time recording those images and videos, will we remember to make sure we're actually in them? 

The memories might be fleeting, but I'm beginning to think that enjoying the actual moments will always be better than trying to relive them by looking and watching later.