Pre-Ramble:  In another place in time that missive might have been directed at a carefree young child while strolling through a sunny pond-side park somewhere.  But actually, it was me chastising myself for kicking what I realized too late was not a small round rock in the center of our driveway.

Crap. Literally. All over the toe of my favorite Donald Pliner black microfiber wedge. Ordinarily, I would have been way more enraged by this … (I have a hot streak that doesn’t suffer foibles lightly), but I was far too distracted by a rabbit hole to engage with the goose poop in any meaningful way.

What started this jag is what always happens … I read a dangerously interesting article in one of my known vices – the NY Times, WSJ, Vanity Fair or a random snippet in the margins of some newsfeed, and before you know it, I’m careening down a slippery slope of anxiety-fed adrenalin.

It happens in bookstores too.  Surrounded by all of those thought-provoking perspectives and images, … it’s like I just want to HAVE IT ALL, … instantaneously, … in my head to keep and use and know.  And yet, at that exact moment, the idea of actually reading any of it is overwhelmingly exhausting.

Well, so, anyway, today I was working through a stack of newspapers when I came across a story about mommy-bloggers.  You know, those newly minted stay-at-home mothers who have so much frantically idling intellect that they sit in their kitchens, children at their feet, singlehandedly spinning day-to-day experiences into a living and breathing online entity. Turns out there are a whole bunch of them out there — it’s a virtual community. 

While I might spoof on these women at times, the truth is, I am secretly envious of them.  I covet the opportunity that they have to observe, ponder and preserve that particular time in their lives, both for themselves and for their children. I also covet the cutting-edge legitimacy that they have established for themselves, a place where they can actively participate in a greater social context while still standing front and center to raise their children. They get to publically indulge and leverage the motherhood experience in a way that was never available to my generation of moms … (or if it was, I was never aware of it).

Unlike many in my generation, these gals don’t appear to be conflicted about their stay-at-home status in the least. In fact, they’re in your face with it.  Beyond a quick soccer-mom chat over the back fence, mommy-bloggers are able to reach out and exchange their thoughts and ideas with people all over the world. Theirs is a unique and global clique built around the shared experiences of sleepless nights, strained organic peaches, and favorite plug-ins. They have catchy taglines and logos, … elaborate mastheads and Fan Pages, … they use cool Twitter-speak and worship their webmasters, … They are simultaneously “out there in it” AND at home doing the warm-cookies-and-milk-after-school thing. It’s awesome.

The Take-Away: Alas, have I come to the party too late?  My fabulous children are grown and nearly gone.  All of those cherished child-rearing moments have gone by — un-blogged.  … While I am no longer compelled to cry over spilled milk, I can still raise a sippy cup to the awesome mommy-bloggers out there and let them know that if they need any child-rearing advice, (… “Don’t kick goose poop in your good shoes …” ), I hope they know where they can find me.

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