Observe: My Skin Is So Thin

I periodically submit things I've written to Mamapedia.com. I don't think they're especially picky about what they accept for publication on their site (everything I've submitted has been accepted), and there's no pay involved, but it's a way to gain visibility for my blog, and in the bigger picture, it's a way to gauge a larger audience's reaction to things I write. Because I have this niggling fantasy (that I've yet to really pursue, mostly because I'm afraid, and also because, let's be honest, I'm already juggling 89 plates at any given time) of being a real writer. You know, a freelance writer for parenting publications. Don't laugh.

Anyway, so most of the stuff I've submitted to Mamapedia, and which they in turn have published on their site, has gotten mostly positive feedback. Which boosts my confidence, naturally. Then there was my most recent submission, The Princess and the Hot Dog Bun, which I originally posted here on my blog, and which Mamapedia published on their site recently here. Look at all the comments! And the vast majority of them are positive, I-can-relate-type comments.

Isn't it funny, though, how the less-than-positive comments, no matter how few, tend to stick out far more than the positive ones?

Several commenters found themselves up in arms over my referring to my daughter as "Princess." Really? And quite a few seemed to take away from my little anecdote that I have accomplished nothing but teaching my daughter to throw a tantrum in order to get what she wants. Wow. And one commenter critiqued my word-usage in my bio. Geez.

Anyway, I guess I feel compelled to assure anyone who might wonder that I'm not raising a little diva. I do, in fact, on occasion, address Lilah as "Princess Lilah" because it makes her giggle. This in no way reflects an intention to raise a daughter who will sit back helplessly awaiting the arrival of Prince Charming. I'm actually fairly nauseated by all the Disney Princess crap, but I figure my girls will outgrow it soon enough. And tantrums in our house usually land the offender in his or her room by her- or himself to think things over and cool down. Isn't it obvious that I embellished my little story a little in order to make it amusing and relatable? My point was that sometimes I just get stuck in the "rules" as a parent, and that particular morning, I had something of an epiphany: who made up these rules anyway? Why can't she have a hot dog bun for breakfast? And who says that a parent should never back down when they realize they're sticking to their guns just for the sake of sticking to their guns, even if it's unreasonable?

And really, why do I care so much what other people think? Ahh, the insecurities of motherhood. Do we ever feel we're doing a good enough job? Do we ever feel immune from the judgmental eyes of other mothers?

The truth is, though - and I realize this - is that I need to grow a thicker skin. If I'm going to put stuff out there, I have to be able to take the good with the bad, right?