Last week, Al Roker informed the world that he had pooped
his pants during a previous visit to the White House. My initial reaction to
this confession was one of pure horror. Couldn’t Al find something a little less
offensive to chat about while promoting his book? Couldn’t he talk about
something less vulgar, like maybe the weather?! But upon further reflection, I realized
that he should be admired for his audacious overshare. Celebrities are always
pretending to be divulging private information by admitting to their secret cravings
for potato chips or their fondness for the Real
Housewives, but Al Roker’s confession was a bit more jaw-dropping than that.
And guess what? By next week, everyone will have moved on to the next story.
And maybe the next time someone poops their pants at the White House, they
won’t feel so bad.
I have a dirty little secret to share with you as well. I
happen to hate talking about myself. I know what you’re thinking: starting a blog was a great idea! The
truth is, while it hasn’t felt entirely natural to share personal tidbits about
my life, it has been a lot of fun. As a new year begins, I’ve been pondering
what to write about and what people even care to read about. Should I discuss
how I finally started watching Homeland
and divulge who I’ve developed a strange crush on? Do you care what foods my
children refuse to eat? Should I talk about why I cried on New Year’s Eve? Or how
many times have I fallen off the exercise bike since my first spin class?
Personally, I enjoy reading the random things people
share in their blogs and on Facebook. I joined Facebook a few months
after my first son was born, and for me it was a little bit of a lifesaver. The
first couple of months of motherhood can be a lonely time, especially when
you’ve only recently moved to the suburbs and feel overwhelmed by the mere
notion of trekking to the drug store with an infant in tow, let alone getting
out of the house and meeting other new moms. Facebook reconnected me with the
outside world and made me feel just a little less alone. It turned out I wasn’t
the only one who had been pooped on! (By my infant, not by Al Roker.) I wasn’t
the only one who had been awake since 4am! Yes, teething is torture! (And I can
only imagine what it’s like for the baby…) The more mundane the posts, the more
I rejoiced. Other people were experiencing the same magnificent/terrifying/revolting
aspects of parenthood that I was. And it wasn’t just the parenting posts I
craved. I loved hearing about friends’ nights out drinking, eating elaborate meals,
and viewing movies in actual movie theaters.
I guess I’m hoping that reading about my sometimes
humorous and oftentimes ordinary experiences in motherhood might make another
new parent feel a little less lonely. As I think about what to write about next,
I can promise you that I will never be sharing a story about pooping my pants
at the White House (I know what you’re thinking: you would never be invited to the White House!) For now this will
have to suffice: Saul and Brody (both disconcerting for different reasons), my
older son doesn’t like tomato sauce and my younger one still won’t touch green
beans, none of your business, and I haven’t fallen off any stationery bikes
lately, thank you very much.