Welcome to the Mom Blogularity Contest, Take a Number

*Thank you, Oh The Joys for emailing me and helping me gather enough courage/gumption to re-post this for keepers:

Several commenters on my blog recently pointed out that some mom blogs are now doubling as popularity contests. Ya think?!

I feel relieved that other mom bloggers are buzzing/ranting/bitching about this at a time when blog awards bestowed upon bloggers from fellow bloggers appear to be at an all-time high. And some blog awards are getting downright ridiculous. And, yes, I'm jealous.

There's an award for everything now. While I'm all for patting each other on the blogging back, well, I think it's gone a little too far. Did I already admit that I'm jealous?

Perhaps I wouldn't be knocking some of these awards, gratuitous or not, if I'd just become the recipient of some amazing, impressive, complimentary mom blogging award. It's pretty likely I'd be basking in the glow of my accolades, not knocking the ubiquity and overall overcooked processed hot dog quality of the recent glut of blog awards.

I'm going to come out and admit the ugly, embarrassing truth right now -- I wish I were a popular mom blogger. I hate it when I (compulsively) check my Google Analytics and see that only 26 people stopped by my blog on any given day.

What ever happened to when I used to get 100 visitors a day? Doesn't sound like much for some, but those kind of numbers spell success to me. Oh yeah, that’s when I was busy broaching controversial topics like sex after kids and the freaky pedophiles that stalked my blog for weeks on end.

I abhor it even more when I log on and see that my post of the day only garnered one measly comment or perhaps none at all. Why is it so easy to become a comments addict?

Hi, my name is Kim (aka domestic slackstress) and I’m a comment-a-holic. I have been comment free for 10 days. I’m now living my life one comment at a time. From this day forward, I'm going to work the program and work the comments.

I wish I were as modern-mama-blog-a-mama cool and commercially blog-successful as Dooce, who only seems to turn on her comments capability when she feels like instantly getting 368 validating answers to basic questions about potty training and nutty fan letters. You know you want to be like her too. Admit it, honey. Why can't short hair like Heather B. Armstrong's look as sharp and edgy on me?

How can I be as naturally funny as OhTheJoys? That's right. Funny isn't learned. It just is.

I wish I could post something as simple as "I went to Trader Joe's with the kids to buy Japanese Rice crackers because we had a collective craving for MSG and seaweed," and instantly receive 32 comments saying irrelevant blibber blubber like, "I loooove Nori Maki too." and "Wow. Great post. I was moved by your simplicity. Way to list your grocery list, girl. Keep up the good work." Some of the posts that win a million comments are shockingly mundane. Shockingly terse. Shocking in their lack of content shock value. Shocking in their Lack. Of. Content. At. All.

Why do I feel the need to be a well-known, super-popular mom blogger? What drives me to be such a star-struck blogger with a blog that started as a way to pitch in a little Google Adsense (Google No-cents) money into our bad joke of a non-budget? Exactly how sick of my unending questions are you?

Let's face it. I need the money. I want the fame.

Between tackling toppling stacks of laundry and scraping dried-up jelly donut innards from the germ incubating kitchen floor, maybe I'll have time today to create my own blog award called Most Wanna-be Dooce-i-est Mom Blogger Award. I’ll even nominate myself for it straight away.

Don't hold your breath. Just be sure to click on "Comments" before you turn blue.

These are the narcissistic ramblings of my tired night mind. Of my busy digesting crab rangoon and nine sesame date balls I stashed into my purse at the buffet mind-body-belly. Stuffed like a hormone swollen turkey at Thanksgiving with Chinese food from a cheap Chinese joint.

Does a bottle of Tums count as dessert?

Ps. Someone who is royal a pain in the arse kind of good friend just now reminded me that I won a Rolling on the Floor Laughing Award (ROFL) for my Oct. 2006 toy ad satire post called "F-Bomb Cop." You didn't hear me complaining about that award, now did you? Now I can shut up and cease being a hypocrite. I even wrote a post-win post about winning the award, officially making me a willing member of the mom blogularity contest. Oops. Count me in.