Blogger or Blagger?

Blog:   
1. a regularly updated website or web page, typically one run by an individual or small group, that is written in an informal or conversational style. 
or 
2. Blog definition, a website containing a writer’s or group of writers’ own experiences, observations, opinions, etc., and often having images and links to other .
Blogger
a person who regularly writes material for a blog.
blogger
“Oh, you’re a blogger?”
(Insert eye roll or eyebrow raise… )
For the past 4 years, I have indeed been a Blogger.  I own my own website, on which I post my own content, which I create all by myself.
I am a writer; a writer of blogs, a putter-downer of thoughts, and I share my thoughts with the world on my site and on my Social Media Platforms.
My aim?
To have people read my words, to entertain people, to make them think…(and to someday see it in book form.)
‘But what are you selling?’  NOTHING.
‘But who do you work for?’ ME.
‘But why do you bother?’ BECAUSE I ENJOY IT.
The past 18 months has seen the rise of the INFLUENCER… and while many of us boring writing, content creating bloggers might sometimes dip our toes into this world, the blurred lines between Influencers and Bloggers is becoming a problem.
If your Blog has a readership and a strong social media presence, it is probable that savvy marketing people are going to try to get you on-board to help them to promote something.  And if, (like me), you choose to work with or collaborate with certain companies or people, and you are completely honest and transparent in your work, there’s no real problem.
For example, any company with whom I have worked, has had a set of conditions from me.
1. I say and write what I want.
2. I am only honest in my reviews.
3. My links are No Follow and
4. I disclose all partnerships with my Mammies.
If a company doesn’t like any of these, I don’t work with them.  My time is valuable.  This is not my full time job.  I don’t NEED to collaborate with ANYONE, but some fun and fablis opportunities have presented to me and I have happily helped to promote and encourage those who I have chosen to work with.
That’s me.
But am I an INFLUENCER?
I don’t think so.  I would certainly never refer to myself as one.  If people are influenced by what I write or show or use or where I go, that’s a result of my words and my blog; not my “influence”.
Influencers can be wonderful.  Don’t get me wrong.  If someone is having positive ripples in the pool of the WWW, then good for them.  If your favourite Make up Artist declares each validation or promotion as an #ad or #af link or whatever it may be, then that’s fine.
But recently, the Blogger and Influencer pool has been flooded by self proclaimed influencers who set up social media pages and try to get famous (and to try to get free stuff!).
People now refer to themselves as a Blogger after a week of posting images of shoes, or memes, or food, or ladybirds or other people’s stories onto the Instagram page.  I was writing for 18 months and nominated for an award before I called myself a Blogger… and even then, I felt like I was a fraud.
Is there anything wrong with these pages?  Not really.  Each to their own.  If you like to share images of bugs, or shoes, or eyebrows, or weights, or inspirational quotes, or your arse, go for it… (well, maybe not the last one.)
But if you want to be a BLOGGER, here are some basic guidelines:
1. You must CREATE something.  Sharing other people’s content is NOT BLOGGING.  It is sharing.
2. You should have your OWN website or platform from which you can share this content.
3. You should NOT buy or beg for shares so you can boast numbers.  You must post quality content and engage with your readers to try to build a reputable following.
4. If you buy followers, you are not a blogger, you are a Twat.
5.  If you choose to monetise your site, you must be transparent about it.
6.  If you are collaborating or working with a business, you must declare it on every post.
7. Be prepared to write to yourself for weeks, or months.  If you want fame, go on X-Factor…
8. Don’t contact complanies declaring yourself a Blogger so you can get nice things.  If you are doing that, you are trying to be an INFLUENCER, NOT a Blogger.
9. You are not entitled to ANYTHING.
10.  If a company want you to collaborate, it’s not because you are amazing and famous and an expert in any field.  Usually, it is because they see you as a good platform from which to share THEIR product or service.  In effect, you are advertising for them, in a verrrrrrrry cost-effective way. (for them).
Why am I writing this now?  It’s been on my mind for a while.  With the Blogger Bashing that is happening online, many of us are disillusioned.
I recently had a man who set up a blog on a Sunday, message me the following Wednesday asking me to share his “blog” with my followers.  Erm. NO.  Good luck with it, I hope it goes well.  Come back to me when you have some content that I can read.
I’ve also been speaking to fellow bloggers ( actual writers, not insta-bams) and the general consensus is that people are so sick of the influencers or “Bloggers” as they are so often referred to, getting bad press and giving the word “blog” a bad name.
And finally, the whole Blogger’s Unveiled saga over the past few weeks has pissed me off.
While at times the comments and tone on the page were questionable, in general, the page highlighted the level of Photoshop and lies and manipulation and absolute BULLSHIT that exists among a new gang of people who go under the term Blogger or Influencer. BU might have been controversial in his/her approach, but the page highlighted fraud.  It highlighted plagiariasm and it seems to have woken a whole generation up to the fact that it’s NOT ALL REAL.  And people didn’t like that.
Are these people Bloggers if you look at definition?
No.
If someone is selling you something, benefiting from your purchases, and NOT telling you that they are selling, they are an arse hole.
If someone is photoshopping their legs, or arse, or filtering the fandangles off themselves and claiming to be “caught unawares” or “#nomakeup”, they are an arse hole.
If someone is lying to you about products they use, or “just popping on” to show you something (which they are being paid to do) and they are not telling you that they are working for that company, they are an ARSE HOLE.
If someone is trying to sell you magic shakes to make you shit your body weight, claiming that it’s amazing, (but forgetting to tell you they’re on commission), they, my friends, are an arse hole.
And if someone sends a mass card or a death threat or a threatening letter to someone because of something they’ve read on the internet, well, there are other words that we could use for THAT type of person.
And “BLOGGER”, certainly isn’t one of them.
So are all Bloggers (and Influencers) ‘hateful’ and ‘septic’ and ‘toxic’ and ‘liars’ and ‘wannabes’ and ‘charlatans’ and ‘chancers’ and ‘saddos’ and ‘bitches’ and ‘oversharing freeloaders’ and ‘bullies’ and ‘attention seekers’?  
NO.
Most of us are just writers or creators, who were happily paddling in pools of words and images and conversations and sometimes even awareness raising.  But now, we’re swimming against a fake tan coloured tide of BS that is starting to drown us.
Most of us are wondering when the word Blogger became a bad word.
Most of us would love to people to understand that Bloggers and Influencers are not always the same thing.
blogornotyw3

Source unknown but it’s pretty fab isn’t it?

In the current climate, where a woman has to fear for her life because she is being accused (without any real grounds) of being someone else, and where the internet are cheering on a witch hunt, maybe it’s time to start reconsider using both words.
So for the foreseeable, ‘Hi I’m The S-Mum and I’m a Writer…’
(Maybe I’ll be able to use the word Blogger again some day.  Not today.)
Mammy xx

I am Sweet Jebus, What Did She See Mum?

“Mammy I wrote you a note.”

“Did you Darling?”

“Yes.  I wrote it the other night when I couldn’t get to sleep and I forgotted to give it to you.”

“Ok. What does it say?”

“It says My Mammy and Daddy were very happy doing the rumpy.”

(WTF? WTF? WTF?)

“Erm. Okaaaaaaaaaaaaay?”

(Inside I am thinking FAAAAAAAAACK. What has she seen? What have we done? Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod… I have scarred my child for life. What…when…how…WHEN?)

Outside, I TRY to remain calm and composed…

“What is Doing the Rumpy Darling?” (Tread carefully Mammy.)

“No.  DURING the Rumpy.”

(Sweet Japonica on a big bike, shoot me now…)

“And what is Rumpy?”

“That game you were watching…”

(Now I’m utterly lost.)

“What game?”

“When Ireland WON the match with the funny ball.”

“OH!”  (Joy and rapture and Thank the frivoulous fecks!)  THE  RUGBY?!

“Yes,  The Rumpy.  Remember you and Daddy were all excited and jumping up and down and smiling?”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”  (Hallelujah!)

Yes we were Darling. Yes we were.  Right there in the middle of the kitchen, in broad daylight…and not a door locked or anything!

Phew…

rugby

 

I am Speed-Clean Queen Mum

Good evening, on this, the 83rd of January, 2018.
 
It is Sunday night once again. Mammy has a list of things she needs to do, but after running around the house for the past 90 minutes finding schoolbags, and lunchboxes and searching for the magical tie and parts of the uniform that get blown to the 4 corners of the earth on a Friday evening, Mammy is fit for NOTHING except parking her posterier on the sofa.
 
Mammy had some lovely friends over for an impromptu dinner last night. Mammy spent 45 minutes speed cleaning the rooms in which her lovely friends would be. It is amazing just how much Mammy can get done when faced with the thought of lovely friends coming to visit. (Not that lovely friends give a continental shite what state Mammy’s Layer of Love is in, but still.) And so Mammy managed to blitz the kitchen, tidy, move, clean bathrooms, mop floors and clean glass, all so that she could apologize for the “state of the place” when the lovely friends arrived.
27537129_10159769582600167_1829226078_o
How ridonculous eh?
 
“Good evening Lovely Friends, please doooooo come in and look at how homely and coziful Mammy’s practically perfect in every way home is on this fine evening. I must apologize for the layer of love. Please do not judge Mammy for the mess of her candlelt kitchen… Woulds’t one likest some cucumber in one’s gin?
27537594_10159769500485167_138966470_o

Ready for catch ups

 
And of course the response from one of the lovely friends was “Yeah yeah. The place looks great. Shut up and start pouring.”
 
The evening was lovely until Princess decided to have her firt EVER nightmare just before 1am. The poor little cretur screamed so loudly that one of Lovely Friends almost spilled her cucumbery gin over herself. And so Mammy had to bid her lovely friends Adieu and take the High-temperatured, sweaty little shaking mess away from the “Bug Bear under me bed” and into our bed.
On the up side, The Him was happily left entertaining lovely friends AND HE did all the cleaning up of Mammy’s showhouse worthy kitchen before he went to bed. And so the remnants of the Heavenly Indian takeaway we had, were gone when I got up.
27536045_10159769502285167_1712521145_o

Could lick the screen…

 
Fear not however my Mammies. The house is once again a mess and all pretentious notions have left Mammy. Mammy is back in reality, smiling at how quickly Mini-Me and Princess recreated their Layer of Love and glad to have such Lovely friends to speed-clean-for-them-to-not-notice anyway.
I am now ready for bed, hoping and praying that there is no bear or monster under Princess’s bed tonight.
Hope you had a lovely weekend and that you are ready for the last 38 days of January.
The S-Mum

I am So, I’m in the Irish Examiner today Mum

Thank you so much to the lovely Denise O’Donoghue from The Irish Examiner for putting together this feature on me.  What a lovely way to start my week.
 Click the link to visit Irishexaminer.com
http://www.irishexaminer.com/lifestyle/features/online-lives-the-s-mum-blogger-maria-rushe-460113.html
ONLINE LIVES   –   THE IRISH EXAMINER

Teacher Maria Rushe has been blogging as The S-Mum for almost three years about her life with her husband, Emmet, and their two daughters.

“I write about the realities of being a parent,” she said. “I try my best to dispel the false perfections and perceived ideals that are portrayed online. As mammies, we all do what is best for our own kids and what another mum thinks about your style of parenting is quite frankly, not your problem.

“I don’t hold back. I sometimes swear. I post and blog about the highs and the lows and I like to make people laugh.”

Maria describes blogging as “therapy” and she loves connecting with like-minded people.

“I enjoy the interaction on my Facebook page. My favourite thing ever is when I read a message or comment from another S-Mum saying how I’ve ‘read her mind’ or how she ‘could have written this’. To know that your words can have a positive impact is such a treat. And realising that I’m not the only one who feels like I’m about to lose my marbles helps too!”

The mum-of-two is cautious of social media but embraced blogging to better understand the students when she teaches English.

“Social media is our ‘Terrible Beauty’; it’s wonderful but so dangerous. I enjoy the communication and new people it brings to me, but I find it difficult to keep up with it all.

“Blogging helps me in my job as being submerged in Social Media definitely helps me to understand the world of my students. I try to teach them how to read it; how to recognise it as a genre, rather than a reality.”

Maria found remaining anonymous challenging and sometimes struggles with trolls online.

“At the beginning, I tried to remain anonymous. After a few months, that became difficult. I grew more confident in my writing and the response was encouraging.

“I do use my poetic licence sometimes. I have to inject a little bit of fiction into the S-Mum to prevent it from being too intrusive to our lives. I chose what to share. I chose what not to share.

“Your first hater or troll is a challenge too. I don’t take them on. I ban and block. End of.”

She says the support she received from fellow parent bloggers has been encouraging.

“I have found them to be such a supportive and honest bunch. It’s refreshing talking with like-minded people and it’s intriguing how many different avenues people take their blogs.

#irishexaminer #onlinelives #thesmum

 

I am So I’m a Career Mum (again)

Rejoice! Rejoice!

It is Friyay…the FIRST Friyay after a FULL week of school and work and routine. And we have all survived. (albeit just about, but survived we have.😂)
We may be frazzled and fooked Mammies, but still we must find the energy to REJOICE in the Fact that we have made it to the MOST wonderful evening of the week. 😆

This week, after two years of maternity leave, unpaid leave and jobsharing, I have finally dipped my toe back into the world of being a Full-time Mammy with a full-time Job. What have I learned? Nothing. But I have remembered MANY things; Things that I had battered down, suffocated and locked in a tattered old box at the back of the memory part of my subconscious, but which now bounce back to the forefront of my ridiculously tired little mind. 😐

Tired Children:

Tired children are cranky.
Tired children like to find a reason, ANY reason, to cry.
Tired children do not KNOW that they are tired.
Tired children refuse to admit that they are tired.😥
Tired children will bite one another.😠
Tired children do not like to go to their beds, regardless of how tired they are.
Tired children like to wake up at 2am and play with their toys, with the light on, noisily enough to waken everyone so that they have someone to tell that they are NOT tired.
Tired children do NOT like to get dressed in the morning.
Tired children do NOT like it when you bounce into their bedrooms at 7am singing “Good Morning, Good Moooooooorning!, opening curtains and declaring that it is time for school. (Especially the not tired children who have been up half the night playing with their fecking toys.😈)
Tired children like to say “No” and “No” and sometimes, “Noooooo!” to absolutely EVERYTHING that Tired Mammy asks or suggests.

And along with tired children, comes the Tired Mammy. But as well as being a tired Mammy, Mammy ALSO has to be SUPER-ORGANISED Mammy.
Mammy needs to keep on top of the fridge situation.
Mammy needs to pack lunchboxes and school bags and afterschool bags.
Mammy needs to remember the fecking HORROR that is HOMEWORK.
Mammy needs to think about dinners sooner than when she opens the fridge at 6pm.
Mammy needs to set her alarm to make sure she gets out of bed 30 minutes before everyone else if Mammy wants to pee, shower and have a coffee all by herself.
Mammy needs to be an intelligent and functioning adult.
Mammy needs to rid her brain of references to Peppa Pig and Andy and Bing because they are not relevant to Macbeth and teenagers do NOT respond well to them.
Mammy needs to try to keep the washing basket from puking and Mammy needs to arrange everyone’s clothes before bedtime.
Mammy needs to remain relatively Wifely and interesting enough to hold a brief conversation with Tired Daddy when he comes home from Jim.
And Mammy needs to get used to wearing stupid heels and muckup every single day. (I’ll last until the end of September…)
Mammy needs to cram all of the Mammying and playing and cuddling and scolding and fun into 3 hours in the evening, while being JUST as tired as her beloved Tired Children who are determined to PUNISH her tired ass for abandoning them in school and creche. (Even though they both LOVE where they go and actually CRY when they are collected.)
Mammy can not have grapes or gin during the week… 😛😛
Mammy struggles with balancing the Mammy guilt when she’s away from the girlies, and the urge to sell them on ETSY when she’s spent an hour being screamed at and cried at by her Tired Minions.

Mammy can’t win.

In conclusion. Mammy does INDEED need to rejoice that she has made it to Friday night, has the tired minions in bed, her feet up and the grapes poured. 😂And now Mammy needs all of her Lovely Supermums to say Hello and remind her of what I have been missing while abandoning you all this week while trying to keep 286 plates spinning without falling off her heels and onto her poor, muck-uped, Mammy-guilty face.

Cheers Bitcheepoos. xxx