Thursday, April 4, 2013


Williamsburg, 2013

A really funny satire on the peculiarities of the mommy blogosphere in the New Yorker this week. Paul Rudnick writes about a pseudo-fictitious mommy blogger named Jyll Cimmaron Stelton whose life mission statement goes something like this:

"I believe that childhood is a brief, perfect state of being, and so I’ve tried to enclose my family in a shimmering sphere of enchantment, a realm that I call WonderPlanet, right here in our Park Slope brownstone. On WonderPlanet, anything is possible, as long as everyone loves one another and Goldman Sachs comes through with Daddy’s Easter bonus."

My favorite part of it nods to that Retro Wife story in New York a few weeks back:

"Most of our days, however, are spent dressing up in hand-embroidered Swedish linen smocks, tulle tutus, and velvet tunics, and fashioning dance/performance pieces illustrating what I like to call “Ye Enchantable Historye of WonderPlanet.” Yesterday, when some neighboring children came over, Nebula chose to play the Darkling Shrew, a mother who neglects her children by selfishly pursuing a life of social work and city planning. The other children all played positive emanations, including Kindness, Quiet Time, and Really Listening. They surrounded the Darkling Shrew and punched her until she promised to quit her job and devote more time to Instagramming photos of them touching oversized soap bubbles."

Yeah, apparently I'm not the only one who thinks all of this glowy maternal perfection has gone haywire.

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