Catherine Connors is a mother, writer and recovering academic who traded the lecture hall for the playroom and discovered that university students and preschoolers have much the same attention span. She still dips her toes into academic waters by writing the occasional scholarly article about the place of motherhood in Western philosophy, but mostly now she changes diapers and wipes noses and indulges in long reflections on whether Yo Gabba Gabba is a harbinger of the decline of western civilization. Oh, and she blogs: in addition to Bad Mother blogging at BeliefNet, she is, among other things, the author of HerBadMother.com, Managing Editor of MamaPop, moderator of Her Bad Mother’s Basement, co-founder and co-editor of WeCovet, Contributing Editor at BlogHer, and (deep breath) founder of and contributor to Canada Moms Blog. And in her spare time… oh, wait. She doesn’t have spare time. But she’s okay with that.
No offense to soccer moms – some of my best friends are soccer moms – but I never thought that I’d actually be one. My kids, I always imagined, were going to be bookish, artsy types, reading Latin by the age of five and composing sonatas by nine. Soccer? I just never thought about soccer, except when I thought about soccer moms – latte-toting, yoga-pant-wearing, minivan-driving suburban alpha moms – and when I thought about soccer moms I always thought, that? Will never be me. If only because I a) intended to never wear yoga pants, and b) do not drive, never mind drive a minivan. Whether or not my children might want to play soccer never entered the equation.
Now, it seems, it has. And I’ve already got the yoga pants, so…
Guess I’d better learn how to drive.