My Secret Mormon Mommy Blogger Fantasy Life

Nobody lives like Mormon mommy bloggers – not even Mormon mommy bloggers. Their whole life looks like it’s on purpose. If your blogroll includes a few of these Etsy-shopping, organic waffle-making, cute apron-wearing ladies, you know what I mean. If there were a way to engineer a lifestyle where I was a Mormon Mommy Blogger without actually having to be Mormon or a mommy, I’d be down. That doesn’t seem possible, so instead I can’t help but fantasize about an alternate universe in which I was born in Provo, have 8 siblings, and run an online children’s stationery shop while raising impeccably-dressed kids.

For starters, if I were a Mormon Mommy Blogger … I’d be Mormon. That part doesn’t really interest me — except for the crisp white underwear onesies, which seem so pristine and wholesome that they’re like the underwear equivalent of having fresh farm milk delivered in glass bottles to your door — so let’s move on. I’d be a “mommy,” though, and by my late 20s I could have quite a collection of them: Jasper, Oliver, Clyde, Florentine, and Birdie. Or Wren. I haven’t decided on the last one for sure. Unlike real children, they’d never wear anything with licensed characters on it. Instead, the boys would look like Mumford sons and the girls would dress like cats from a Richard Scarry book.

All together now: Ain’t no collar like a Peter Pan collar cause a Peter Pan collar don’t pop

Speaking of outfits, if I were a Mormon Mommy Blogger, I’d also dress like a cat from a Richard Scarry book. I assume there would be a lot of stuff from Anthro and Modcloth in my closet. But as a proper Mormon Mommy Blogger, I’d probably have a Mormon Mommy Blogger friend with an Etsy shop who gives me free clothes in exchange for plugs. I bet I’d like that part. I would be really into statement necklaces and, I think, hair accessories. Every day I’d look like a baby from one of those newborn photoshoots where they stick big stuff on their head.

When accessorizing, think to yourself: “What would a baby from Etsy do?”

My color palette would best be described as “Wes Anderson-y” or “Deschanelesque.”

If I were a Mormon Mommy Blogger, I’d cop to flaws to seem more human, like the leading lady in a rom-com who is beautiful and accomplished, but also trips a lot. For instance, maybe I’d be a little too obsessed with some type of cute dessert. It couldn’t be Hostess Snowballs or vending machine ice cream sandwiches or anything that you can picture coating your insides with First World Diseases. It could be gelato or some sort of attractive donut, though.

My fatal flaw: I love eating a single, picturesque macaron after a long day shopping for cute fabrics that I definitely know what to do with.

That’s as bad as it can get, because you can’t be gross and be a Mormon Mommy Blogger (I mean your kids and your dog can, and you probably write about that, but it’s different). In contrast, I do things like realize that I haven’t cleaned the rim of my aluminum water bottle until a film of orange sludge has developed. I bet Mormon Mommy Bloggers’ lunch bags don’t smell like a dead man ate a bunch of fruit then farted into it- and if they did, they wouldn’t tell you that. Besides, they eat lunch at home, on Depression glass.

The best part about being a Mormon Mommy Blogger would be the house. It would look like an undergrad design major’s aspirational Pinterest (the board is called “Someday…”, with ellipses). I’m thinking it would be a mid-century ranch or a converted 1890s schoolroom, but anything pre-1970 will do in a pinch. Mormon Mommy Bloggers do not have wall-to-wall carpeting. They do, however, have chevron, birds, and owls. I’m sure one of my talented friends would sell hand-lettered wall hangings, so I’d score some of those.

As a Mormon Mommy Blogger, I’d be so precious that I’d have a lot of household items of limited use. Grapefruit spoons, cherry pitters, summer lap blankets, a tiny ceramic mortar and pestle for grinding chia seeds – they’d all be indispensable. We’d have some sort of a twee weekend breakfast tradition, like crepes while reading the Sunday morning comics (it’s not a big deal or anything, but we have a crepe maker). In this universe, I’d be entertained by Sunday morning comics. It would be so cute to be into Nancy or Dick Tracy, but I just can’t. I wouldn’t really “get” Dilbert, but then again, who does?

Oh, to be the kind of adult woman who thinks this is funny. Fun fact: my new niece is named Lulu and everyone over the age of 45 says “oh, like Little Lulu!” so apparently there’s an audience for this?

Somewhere between running my home business and raising children named after old men or wildlife, I’d also do a lot of stuff just for fun. I’d throw parties that are on purpose — theme-y ones, like in the summer we’d all go outdoors with mason jar lanterns and paint silhouette portraits and make root beer floats (can I have rootbeer? better check), or in the winter, a sledding party with a cookie component. The soundtrack would be all adorable ladies with ukuleles, or some artist I’m into who predates the British Invasion. Buddy Holly, maybe.  Of course we’d all play with the dog a lot. The dog has a different surname from our own for some reason, like Mr. Wadsworth or Boots McIvins. Basically anything that sounds like it could be one of those stripper or soap opera names you’d construct in junior high using your grandma’s middle name and your first street. I’d have a hobby – probably photography. In my Secret Provo Life, I’d post a lot of pictures taken in natural light highlighting my freckles. I mean, I have more freckles than anybody I’ve ever seen, but in this world I’d be into having them. It would be like my thing. I have to be positive, because Ruby-Faye has them too. Wait, what were the kids names again?

I’m not saying I’m going to go Single White Female on a Mormon Mommy Blogger, although I’m also not saying not that, if you know what I mean (I don’t).  Mormon Mommy Bloggers are doing what everyone with an online presence does — editing out the boring or unattractive bits of life and painting a nice picture. But you have to admit, they paint it ten times more adorably than any of the rest of us can manage. I’m pretty sure their lunch satchels still smell like fruit farts though, even if the fruit is organic, local, and probably cut into the shape of other fruits somehow.

 

In Defense Of Light Blogging

When you write stuff on the internet, the age-old online axiom “never read the comments” doesn’t apply to you. If you don’t read the comments on your own blog, there’s nobody to approve them, you know?

Here at Cookies + Sangria, we’ve been blessed (or #blessed, I think is how you do it on the internet) with some really fantastic commenters. We can count on one hand the number of truly troll-y comments we’ve had, and those all get deleted. They’re not worth the bandwidth.

Then, there are the gray areas. The comments that you don’t quite know what to do with, so they languish unapproved until you eventually delete them. They’re not abusive, or unkind, but they’re also not the sort of thing you want to start a Comments War by addressing.

Like the Cold War, comments wars involve little actual physical conflict, result from ideological differences, and could best be resolved by a rousing Arm Wrestling match.

About three of those have been sitting in our Pending Comments folder for a month. In one of our entertainment posts, they are all comments saying “why are you talking about celebrities and movies?  There’s so much wrong in the world, and we should be paying attention to that.”

So, here’s my answer: Exactly. There is so much wrong in the world. I don’t think you’ll find a single person who doesn’t find the world very, very heavy at times. Some of it is lead-weight heavy: famine, genocide, and so on. Even the people with the best lives deal with that sort of wet wool sweater kind of heaviness: bills to pay, sickness, all of that. If the only things that any of us were allowed to read and write about were the most grave and pressing matters of the day, the world would be even weightier than it already is.

Aran Jumpers, because if anything represents struggles and negativity in the universe of knit woolens, it’s got to be the Irish sweater.

 The decision to blog about fun, light stuff is a deliberate one. With so much heaviness, our goal is to write the kind of things that we’d enjoy reading ourselves. I hope that you can come here during your coffee break, or when your favorite show goes to commercial, and find something to make you smile. Honestly, I don’t think it’s a waste of our time to write it, or yours to read it.

If I’m being honest with myself, you’re probably reading our blog while you’re at work, drafting an email, with a show up on hulu, while texting a friend. That’s why we need to invent adult exer-saucers, where they plunk you in the middle of it and there’s a different device everywhere you turn.

If you want to learn about the big issues in the world, the internet is a big place, and there are plenty of qualified people writing about them. Just because you aren’t reading about them here, I don’t assume you aren’t reading about them anywhere. In return, I hope you all realize that just because I’m not writing about the serious stuff here, doesn’t mean I don’t care.

Every Saturday, I teach English to refugees. These are people who have lost absolutely everything, from their homes to their nationalities to their loved ones. And do you know what we do at class every week? We laugh – a lot. Part of this is because laughter is one of the universal languages. [The other ones are math and music, but doing math would make me dread the class, and my singing would make the class dread me. Also, Esperanto, but that didn’t really take off, now did it?] If me looking stupid is going to help the English language stick in their heads, I’m glad to do it. However, even if they aren’t learning anything, I don’t think that the two hours we spend laughing every weekend are hours wasted. These are people who know, first-hand, that the world is heavy enough. You shouldn’t ignore that, and I don’t think that any of our readers do. Still, wherever it is you can find some lightness – a funny article, a tv show you look forward to every week, a cat meme – you have to take it. And if you can’t find enough of it, then maybe you should write it yourself. No matter what those gray-area commenters say, there are people out there who need to read it.