In her never-ending quest to bring everyone together in a virtual happy assemblage of bloggerly love, HBM is calling for all da ladies to give a shout out (or two) to the Dad Bloggers we read and adore. Great idea, right? Unfortunately for me, with the exception of Crouton Boy over at Cheeky's Hideaway, I don't really read Dad Blogs on a regular basis.
I know. Sure, I've got Sweet Juniper on my blogroll, and I do visit at least once a week, but I haven't made an emotional connection with his blog or with any others of the male persuasion. I don't know what's the matter with me. The men are just as good at this blog writing stuff as the women (maybe better, given that I just used the word "stuff" to describe putting intense feelings about our lives and families into words and then sending them out onto the web for random strangers to read. Nice.). I try to read and support the guys but I find that I'm missing... Something. I don't know what it is. There are some fantastic Dad Bloggers out there, I can't stress that enough. So what the hell is the matter with me?
As a woman whose formative years were spent mainly around boys and men, I should be the first person to jump on the Daddy Blog Booster Bandwagon. But instead I've focused all of my attention on other women bloggers and its tripping me out just a bit. I've never wanted to admit it (out loud) but I must confess...
I don't really like other women.
[ducking the coffee cups, high heels and flat-irons being thrown at me]
Okay, okay. Before you hit the back button, please let me explain. I should probably add a caveat to that statement. I didn't really like other women, but that was before I became a mother. And I have some very good reasons so, please, give me a chance to explain. Please? Sit and listen to my woeful explanation. Maybe, if I can get you to understand, you'll gain some insight into the inner workings of Mrs. Chicky.
(Oh God, please don't leave me. I need you guys.)
(I need. I need.)
(I'll make you cookies if you stay.)
(Oh man, love me. Validate my existence. Don't leave. Gaaaaahhh....)
And here's my pitiful explanation as to why. Women scare me. They always have and they probably always will. I have a hard time relating to them as a group. Singularly they're okay. Together, a bunch of women are a force to be reckoned with. I've always felt more comfortable with men for the very reason I alluded to already. I was brought up around boys and men. I spent the majority of my preschool years around my dad and his buddies, with the sons of my mother's friends, and with my 3 youngest uncles. For whatever reason, there just weren't that many girls my age to foster the bonds of sisterhood with. Since I didn't have a female sibling until I was 4, I didn't have another accessible girl to play with on a regular basis until I was approximately 6 years old. I think the door was closed on my imprinting stage at that point. I had best girlfriends in elementary school and up through college, but not large groups of female friends because I learned very early on, as most of us do... That girls? They're cruel little bitches.
Girls are cliquey and catty and manipulative and they hold grudges.
Girls believe in pack mentality. Its like a religion to them. All pray at the altar of the Alpha Female.
Girls listen as you lament your breakup with your first high school love one day and then the next show up at school wearing the sweater you lovingly bought for your now ex-boyfriend as a Christmas present the year before. Loudly announcing without words that she was now dating him. Yeah, like I wasn't going to notice that one.
Sorry, I was going to keep it unspecific.
But can you believe the nerve of that bitch?
Anyhoo... I've always enjoyed having male friends. For most of my adult life I worked in industries where I was the only woman or, at least, one of a small handful. In my twenties I surrounded myself with male friends, but always keeping one or two female friends around for advice and support. And for someone to go shopping with. Men hate shoe shopping. Its a fact, look it up.
There's little or no politics involved when you are the woman friend in a group that is predominantly men. You can pretty much be yourself with a group of guys. You talk about what you want (as long as it doesn't involve feminine hygiene products or make-up shades), toss around off-color jokes without feeling the need to censor yourself, and talk about high level things without having to share your deep feelings. Gag. The only thing you have to worry about by being the only female in an all male group is someone wanting to get into your pants. And you're pretty much guaranteed that at some point, every one of them has thought about what it would be like to get you into bed. But as long as that fact is known but never spoken, and no one steps over that line, everything is copasetic.
Now, I love sharing. I am, after all, a woman. I'm all for it, but sometimes that shit gets tiring. And if you allow another woman into the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind you can almost guarantee that somewhere along the line what you shared will be used against you in a court of feminine law. Unless you find one or two people of the same sex who you can trust. And, seriously, I wasn't too convinced that they existed and if they were out there, those wenches were hard to find.
Then I became a mother and women started coming out of the woodwork! My God, where the hell were all of you hiding?
From the looks of my stat counter I'd say Canada. But that's the subject of another post.
Now that I'm a Mom there are women, other mothers, in my town who are offering to babysit my kid so I can run to a doctor's appointment. Women who send me emails or call me on the phone to say "Hey, I'm bored and I was wondering if you were too. Wanna take the kids for a walk?" There are women whose blogs I'm reading who are sharing (there's that damn word again) their thoughts on motherhood and marriage and so many other topics and, I don't know about you, but no one is emailing me about what so and so said and engaging me to gossip about them behind their back. I'm stunned. I still don't believe that all women are as great as the ones I've been running into recently, but I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. Until they pick on my shoes and then all bets are off.
So my point of all this drivel (and I didn't mean for it to go on and on like this. Really.) is now I'm primarily reading Mom Blogs and that leaves little time for the Dads. Sorry guys. I'm going to make a concerted effort to seek out some Dad blogs to read along with all the Mom and Women blogs I ravenously consume.
And if you've stayed this long I'm sure you have realized that the I can't easily get you the cookies I promised. It is the internet, after all, and warm cookies make a hell of a mess when jammed into the computer's CD player.
Well, where else would you have me put the cookies?
Instead, and this was something else I wasn't planning on, I will offer you this...
Please keep the pointing and laughing to a minimum because I'm fragile and I carry a lot of baggage. And if you're planning on talking about me behind my back don't let me find out about it.