This my final blog post. “The Radical Housewife,” as you and I knew it, is ending, ten years after it began.
The Radical Housewife, the book, is available wherever fine books are sold, and I intend to remain “aka the radical housewife” for the rest of my life, but the web-based thing we called “The Radical Housewife” is over.
When I started this blog, my daughter was so little she needed help with her birthday cake.
Now she prefers monkeys to candles, and Luna Lovegood’s Spectrespecs are her favorite adornment. She is her own person.
She always was.
The growth of a child may be a gimmicky way to show change over time, but it’s effective. I could easily write five thousand words that explain how much (or how little) my worldview has changed since I signed up for a MySpace account, but my guess is you’d rather I boil it down to 140 characters. Given that limit to my expression, I’d rather just complain about Donald Trump.
MY GOD, DONALD TRUMP! Back when I was at my blogging height I thanked my lucky stars for Sarah Palin, assuming naïvely that she was as low as the GOP could ever go.
What a time to quit blogging, eh?
Yes, during the last Most Important Presidential Race in Our Lifetimes, I was at the computer every morning, caffeinated to the teeth, writing constantly. Blogs facilitated a new, foul-mouthed, unapologetic form of communication that didn’t need to follow the traditional rules of decorum and/or gatekeeping. I read Feministing, Pam’s House Blend, DailyKos and a zillion other pinko sites, laughing so hard at McCain jokes that my children asked me if I was ill. “This is important work,” I told myself as I pounded my keyboard into submission. I wrote volumes on why an at-home parent like me might reject the “security mom” profile that handed George W. Bush a second term. I wrote about feminism as the only sane framework for raising children in a compassionate world. I wrote so much about Sarah Palin as the anti-Radical Housewife that I feared that there might be a bizarre universe in which I was running for Vice President and she was raising two kids in a Midwestern city. Where were my shotgun and moose antlers?
It was all so wrong that it felt perfectly right. I made friends, and I alienated a few weirdos that I didn’t like anyway. I exulted when Obama emerged triumphant, for his election could only mean one thing: everything was gonna be just great!!
I kid, I kid. He may be President, but he doesn’t THAT much power. No one does–not even one of the 30 Political Mom Bloggers who will Change Your Vote.
Today we are living through the next Most Important Presidential Race in Our Lifetimes. Somehow these things are constant, even as children, modes of communication, and people change. Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram have usurped WordPress, Blogger, and LiveJournal. Many of the bloggers I followed dutifully back in the day have closed up shop.
My new book Diary of a Rad Housewife: Ten Years of Tirades and True Tales is a curated collection of my best blog posts, including columns and essays from the same time period, many of which are no longer available online.
Some shuttered sites leave their archives up forever; some completely disappear. I am proud of my work, so I have chosen to make it available at an affordable price. This goodbye post will be parked here until I’m sure that all of my internet stalkers have learned that I’m out of the biz.
I’m not kidding! Over the years I have been targeted by some real winners, but just three weeks ago I was attacked by a very special kind of crazy: a person who had me confused with a completely different blogger. And this wasn’t your everyday flaming, people, this was an all-out character assassination that was MEANT FOR ANOTHER PERSON. Are people so lazy in the Twitter age that all women bloggers look the same?
Maybe they are.
You know what else is different right now, in this moment in history? Today, I can look into my daughter’s big grey-blue eyes and tell her that a woman is going to be president. Not maybe, not someday, not possibly, but on Friday, January 20, 2017, at noon Eastern time.
The work isn’t over, not by a long shot. But hot damn, I’m excited about this, and you and your daughters and your sons should be too. A WOMAN IS GOING TO BE PRESIDENT!
The Radical Housewife is over, long live The Radical Housewife!