Today shall be known as the day that Liz Henry, wishy-washy, kinda but not really mom blogger, defended all mom bloggers from the evil purveyors of People Who Don’t Get It.

Look, it’s totally okay for us to throw stones at each other, but it’s an entirely different beast to let someone from traditional media throw stones at us (I’m lumping myself into this category because I just am). So, for example, it’s okay for me to call myself fat and, if you’re fat, you fat, but it’s not okay for your skinny ass to call me fat.

Got it?

So here’s the skinny.

Today, I had the pleasure of arriving at a meeting on the corner of Pompous and Pretentious. It was at this meeting that I got to hear about the glories of being published in the HuffPo, knowing every Tom, Dick and Harry at Hearst Publications, having friends in high places, being optioned for a movie, and having The Wall Street Journal on speed dial.

What a glorious life that must be!

I should mention that, while in this meeting, I name checked my fat ass. Because it wasn’t going to get any skinnier listening to this diatribe of self-importance and LOOK AT ME, I’M IMPORTANT!

If someone has to tell you that they’re important? Shocker, they aren’t. And if they are, you don’t want to know them anyway. But back to where I had to defend mom bloggers.

It was heavily suggested that mom bloggers are cutesy, clueless “writers” who are heavy on shopping and clipping coupons, but light on writing.

Alright, somewhat fair assessment.

And that if we wanted this certain brand to be taken seriously then we had to, of course, use this writer because this writer would bring The Traffic. On name recognition alone. Not just web traffic but people walking in traffic too. Which, to me, was an incredible leap, but alright.

A list of mom bloggers was hastily Googled and that’s when the fun started.

“Everyone is a diva.”

“Who gets to determine if someone is classy?”

“Of course mommy is in the title.”

“It’s only about shopping.”

Pump. The. Breaks.

Some of these women I have met, some I know are a big deal, and most of them I don’t know at all, but they are all bloggers so I said: regardless of what you think, these women have audiences, authority, and know what they are doing. One mom blogger, I said, has the bestselling book this week according The New York Times.

But, if we’re going toe-to-toe dear Know It All Writer, what are your stats I wondered? And she said 1,000 a day. Which to me says, roughly, 30,000 a month.

That’s a lot of traffic for me to never have even heard a whiff, but that doesn’t really mean anything. I am not the knower of all, so I took her at her word and let her chap my ass about my own strategies.

But you can bet that as soon as my hand left the door knob, I was checking up on that shit.

900!

A month.

That’s an estimate, but it’s not going to swing in the tens of thousands. What she basically was saying is this: oh, I’m like Zuckerberg because I have Wi-Fi.

Complete and utter bullshit.

The publications and the movie may all be true, but the blogging and all of the other silliness was an absolute fabrication. You’re from the old guard, so know your place. You don’t get to jump in and tell us how to run the newer show. And, on top of it, insult us while doing it.

This is when I’m beyond proud that the vast majority of the blogging  women I have met – even on their worst day – are not this stupid. You can always find a pompous ass in any group, but I am always humbled by how helpful, supportive, and downright awesome the bloggers I have met just happen to be.

I can’t tell you what sweet justice it was when I came home and that 900 was staring back at me.

It was like coming home to my own big metal chicken.

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