You Exploit Your Family for Likes
Pyramid sellers do it for money, anti-vaxxers do it because they are a few boils short of the black death, but you do it for the meth-like rush of social media validation.
By the time you’re done with it, the whole world will know your hubby is an incompetent dumbshit and your kids will be ready for a life of social influencing having mastered the cold dead stare of the internet model.
If you don’t view your loved ones as fair game in your rise to the top, then maybe you don’t have what it takes for the sinister world of mummy blogging.
You Know That Filth Sells
To you, “real parenting” means that your kids look like they are stuck in a Dolmio’s commercial and your house looks like the laundry room of Kerobokan Prison.
Anyone who suggests you try a bit harder is merely applying the spray & wipe of judgment and when it comes to queening you will have none of that!
After all the key to mummy, blogging is to convince the masses than their ashtray parenting skills are not only OK but worthy of celebration. Speaking of…
Smashing Chardonnay in the morning the perfect reward for not giving a fuck. Day drinking is truly the Vaseline that you smear over the lens of your reality.
Although, if you set the bar of achievement so low, you may find yourself “celebrating” a little too often. Before you know it you are as hammered as a tent peg and taking pictures of yourself on the toilet.
Make no mistake, if a middle-aged man did this, multiple Government Departments would express “concerns” but when you do it, you are revered as royalty.
While mummy bloggers fling shit all over the walls of social media, they are more similar to a crocodile. There is only room for 1 unsolicited-parenting-advice-predator in each community.
Should a rival mummy blogger drift into another’s territory then it’s on. Make sure you set your following onto this rival and dox them if you have to. Their life stopped mattering the moment they blogged on your turf, queen.
First You Got the Infant, Then You Got the Following, Then You Got the Power
You didn’t humiliate your grubby family on the daily for nothing. With an army of queens, the world is your shit-oyster.
Pressure departments stores to remove girls & boys sections because you can’t be fucked educating your kids, launch petitions against schools who scold you for loading lunchboxes with pure diabetes or try to run a cafe out of town for daring to ask you to control your crotch goblin.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?