Perfect Moms, Walking Clichés, and Wal-Mart

Happy Wednesday MWOB readers!

Today, we are introducing a new voice who contacted me because of our “Join MWOB” tab where I encourage moms without blogs to let me know if they want to write. Even though in the blogosphere it seems EVERY MOM has a blog, Amanda is one of the zillion moms who don’t. But she writes. And she has a voice yearning to be heard like the rest of us. She’s also a mom of four and a student so she doesn’t really have the time to sustain her own blog – for now.

I am thrilled to introduce Amanda writing her first post for MWOB. Thanks for reading her and supporting our mission.

Written by Amanda, a mom without a blog

I am not a perfect mother.

I do pride myself on living a full and interesting life and my kids seem to appreciate it. Having said that, I must admit that I am prone to rambling soapbox speeches about the materialistic and corrupt lifestyle that is modern America. I loathe the feeling of spending a Sunday afternoon in “Babylon” buying crap I don’t need and ingesting empty calories masquerading as food. That is why I refuse to indulge in any aforementioned activities whenever possible. I am guilty of people-watching, passing judgment and also contributing to and reinforcing stereotypes (much to my dismay).

I live in the epicenter of two corporate world headquarters (Wal-Mart and Tyson). Here in NW Arkansas we are in a pocket of financial stability and low unemployment rates due to these companies plus the University. Although I must indirectly benefit from this I do not condone many of the big corporate practices. I am of the entitled persuasion that can don a Che t-shirt like the rest of ’em and boycott Wal-Mart all year long – until we need organic raisins. The local organic food co-op thinks that the very same package should cost $3 more!!!

I don’t set foot in Wal-Mart for ideological and energetic reasons. Clearly, I purchase a Smart Chicken if I need one. My family eats quinoa and millet, we raise some livestock, vote Democratic or Independent, heat only with a fireplace and cool without A/C. (Ask me about 98* and 98% humidity sometime) We do not drive Suburbans. We do not-repeat- Do.Not.Feed.The.Baby.Fast-Food!!!

Until I found myself in the throngs of a PMS craving for salty fried chicken (never mind that my PSYCH I course just went over the very real possibility that PMS is highly over reported and possibly not based in science). It was Thursday at 2:30 pm, way past lunch for a hypoglycemic nursing mom. On the verge of a killer migraine, I even ordered a Dr.Pepper for caffeine, something I gave up years ago and only indulge in on occasion. Much to my chagrin, I have reached that age where I have one failing organ to fixate on. Gallbladder related topics are heavily googled at my house. But, I was all “gallbladder be damned” and ordered myself and my two-year-old (gasp) a meal. What a hypocrite I am! Leaving the house without snacks for the baby (besides my boobs).

Who did I think I was kidding? I am as mainstream and unhealthy as the next guy and I’m over here feeding it to my little child. The “imaginary” PMS crept over me like a stealth fog and I was assaulted with guilt and melancholia. Holding back tears, I pull up to the window and retrieve my order. “She’s never had fast-food before, y’all”! -Dude says “at least it’s the best”.


Then I am reminded by the beeping cellphone about soccer practice for the older kids. I am responsible for not only hypocrisy but overpopulation- Geesh! So, I’m off to caravan kids like a “good soccer mom” wondering all the while if I really am a walking cliché.


About Amanda

Greetings from the Ozarks!
I am a mom without a blog who has 4 kids ranging in age from 22 months to 14 years old.
My oldest are twins and not only are they amazingly agreeable (my fingers are crossed) but they are also still somehow boyfriend and cell phone-free girls who help with dinner and laundry. My middle child is the consummate middle child and is a real button pusher; she is a competing champion gymnast who loves being the center of attention. My youngest daughter is a real ham and will surely need to be some kind of rock star in order to get all her attention needs met. She is surrounded by big sisters who dote on her and teach her bad tricks. She is highly verbal and recently asked the grocery store cashier “Where’s my yogurt, lady”?

I look forward to contributing to the hilarious, touching and insightful posts on MWOB, they are a great break from farm chores (we are raising 20 sheep) and college (I am trying to finish my Education degree). I can’t wait to express my mommy concerns in this supportive atmosphere.

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