I guess I’m one of “them” – the mommy bloggers. Although natural parenting and green living are more my niche, I do tend to spew a lot of love for my son on this
blog, and I think that puts me squarely in the realm of the blogging mom. I’m in good company – there are tons of mommy blogs out there, some excellent, some awful.
So what makes a great mommy blog? (Clearly, I’m writing this from the point of view of a mommy blog reader, not a writer. If I knew how to write a great mommy blog, you’d be seeing sponsors in my sidebars).
Content with continuity. Quality posts with lots of variety that manage to maintain a consistent theme make for great reading. If I’m attracted to a certain blog, it is because I like the blogger’s topic or their style. If the topic or style is changing with every post, I’ll lose interest. In recent memory, some great mommy blogs have really jumped the shark by delving into the strangest tangents (did we really need the full photo tour of your new work bathroom? Really?) and then beating us over the head with those tangents, post after post. When that happens, the reader is left wondering why she hears the Twilight Zone theme song playing, or whether she has missed out on some inside joke. It sounds simple, but so many bloggers fail to do it: establish who you are, what you do it, and then, just do it.
Humor with humility. As a class, moms get judged harder than just about anyone because the mommy wars are out of control. If you have any doubt, strike up a discussion about the merits of breastfeeding over bottle feeding, of cosleeping over cribs, of sleep training and cry-it-out, of infant ear piercing, of baby-led weaning versus early introduction of solids, and the list goes on and on. A mom’s daily life is tough enough, but the icing on the cake is the judgment that so many feel and others exude. When we want to unwind and read a little bit, we don’t want blogs that speak down to us. We don’t want to compare our own flawed life with a magazine-perfect example of motherhood. We don’t want to hear about your perfectly polished crystal, your impeccably planned dinner, and your angelic toddler who never managed to hit the terrible twos. We want to hear about how your kid pitched her plate of spaghetti at the dog who freaked out, knocking over the pitcher of iced tea, staining your great-grandmother’s tablecloth. We want to know that we aren’t the only ones with spit up on our good suits and a week’s worth of laundry piling up. We want to know that there are others just like us, longing for that big glass of merlot at the end of the night. Misery loves company, so let’s go have drinks together.
Pictures. We’re moms. We like pictures of babies, of kids, of the art projects sprawled out on a messy dining room table. A picture really does say a thousand words, and a little quality goes a long way. We can’t all be Kelle Hampton, but when you can show the reader instead of telling the reader, you have a happy reader.
Maintain easy ways to stay in touch. Some of my favorite blogs have been forgotten by me so long ago that I don’t even remember that they are my favorites. Moms are busy people and chances are, unless your post is waving at my from my Facebook page or hanging out in my Twitter feed, I’ll forget to read what you’re writing. Encourage your readers to stay in touch via social media. Tweet, post to Facebook, use Pinterest, create subscription options, and tag, tag, tag.
Be yourself. You are probably far more interesting than you give yourself credit for. Most of us read mommy blogs because we enjoy viewing the window into the worlds of others. The daily life of a mother of four is fascinating to me, as a mother of one. The mundane happenings of a family in Dominica interest me because life there is so different. No one is asking you for perfection, for astounding insights into the wonder of parenthood, or for hard and fast rules by which we should model our own parenting. We just want to hear how you juggle your job, your kids, your obligations, and still find some time to share with us something humorous that happened at the dinner table.