Hello, lovely readers! I’m having a fantastic day. My baby boy, the one who brings me fistfuls of leaves every day, snuggles up to me whenever I sit anywhere, and has literally written me so many love letters that we can’t keep paper in the house for more than a week, has just turned six.
Yesterday, we had a birthday dinner for him at our pool. We had pizza. We had cake. R ate enough gummy bears to shift his body composition to 98% sugar and yet somehow managed to swim without dissolving in the water. Good times were had by all.
R has told me, many times a day for as long as he’s been able to talk, that I’m the best mom in the universe. I mean, I know he’s a little biased. He hasn’t actually met every mom in the universe. But he has met a lot of moms, so, you know.
It’s clear that R thinks I’m a pretty fantastic mom. So I was a little surprised to learn that I am, in fact, a selfish, inadequate mom. And this gift of knowledge was given to me by none other than my very first online troll!
Yes! You read that right! I finally have a troll! He not only left me nasty comments. He CONTINUED to comment, responding to anyone who dared write anything positive. He was dedicated and persistent. He just would not give up! You know what this means. I’ve totally made it as a writer. All the coolest bloggers have trolls. And mine is none other than Dicky McDickerson, motherhood expert and writing critic extraordinaire. OK, that’s not his real name, but it should be. He truly is the dickiest of dicks. However, as a human being who is actually not a dick, I feel like it would be cruel to reveal his true identity. So Dicky McDickerson it is! (You’re welcome, Dicky.)
Here is a sampling of what Mr. McDickerson said to or about me, in comments:
“My main piece of advice is to stop writing. Altogether. Just stop.”
“The hobby (my writing) is so badly done and pointless – this person (me) simply isn’t a writer.”
“Nicole Renzi Roder of course you’re not alone. There will always be other selfish and inadequate people out there who’ll rally round you.”
Clearly, based on the Shakespearean prose with which he graced my comments section, this tiny-balled person is an expert on good writing. How generous that he took time out from masturbating in his mother’s basement to offer me such a well thought out critique.
I know what you’re thinking. How did I attract the world’s biggest asshole to comment on one of my blog posts? An asshole so large and cavernous, he actually houses bats. Out of all the blogs in all the internet in all the world, he chose mine to troll. I’m honored. Truly.
Do you want to know how I did it? Well, dear readers, I’ll let you in on my secret. Here it is, the rare and extraordinary lengths to which I went in order to attract my troll.
I was honest.
That’s it! Really! I wrote an honest and sincere blog post about how hard it is to mother small children. (You can read it here, if you’d like. You won’t find little Dicky’s comments there, though. You’ll have to read it on HuffPost for that.)
If you follow my blog regularly, you might remember it. It was one of my most popular posts. I recounted several anecdotes of times when my life as a mother was particularly difficult.
For example, one Sunday, my 5-year-old (now 6!) threw an enormous tantrum at church. Another time, I stayed up late writing and overslept the next morning, missing my daughters’ swim practice. I wrote about a few other incidents as well, including my daughter refusing to comply with her doctor’s orders and all of them refusing to do their chores, but little Dicky chose to focus on these two. (I assume this is because of the trauma he’s experienced at the hands of doctors on his ward insisting upon Dicky completing his own chores. It’s all right, Dicky. No need to revisit that scary day.)
So let’s take a look at Dicky McDickerson’s wise and unimpeachable advise on how I should raise my children, shall we?
“Stop forcing your kids to go to church, there’s a start. I’d also suggest that you organise your time better, so that you don’t stay up half the night ‘writing’… you know, plan ahead a little or at least be aware of what you’re doing the very next morning. But actually my main piece of advice is to stop writing. Altogether. Just stop.”
Dear God, where has he been all my life? This paragraph is so dense with good advice, I have to break it into manageable chunks in order to fully absorb its brilliance.
I’ll start with the first sentence. “Stop forcing your kids to go to church, there’s a start.” Wow. Bravo, Dicky. Without knowing anything about my family aside from an anecdote in which my 5-year-old threw a tantrum at church one day, he has wisely surmised that it is not within our best interest to continue practicing our religion.
I have to say, I never would’ve thought of this one. But then again, I’m not living in my mother’s basement until I can save up enough money to build my own life-sized Dr. Who telephone booth. Dicky has most likely seen the future, so I take his advice very seriously.
Now, I should tell you that I never responded to Dicky in the comments section. (I wouldn’t dare!) But another commenter pointed out that my husband and I, plus 3 of our 4 children all enjoy going to church very much. So in order to stop forcing my son to go to church, I would either have to A.) Leave a 5-year-old home alone, or B.) Let the 5-year-old control the priorities for the entire family with his temper tantrums.
But Dicky would not be deterred! He presented a brilliant and insightful counter-argument. He deftly pointed out that only “one of the children is bold and bright enough to speak up.”
Oh. My. Gosh! Dicky, how did you know? That is the EXACT same argument the 5-year-old used on me! You sound exactly like him! I’m starting to suspect that he hired you as his attorney to bravely defend him against all of the mean and unfair things that I force him to do. I’m expecting any day to receive cease and desist letters from Dicky, on my son’s behalf, for the following injustices he experiences regularly:
1. Doing chores;
2. Completing school work;
3. Eating vegetables;
4. Going to the doctor; and
5. Sharing toys.
Well, I’m glad we’ve got that settled! I shall no longer impose any of my mean mommy rules on my son. He’s so lucky to have such an advocate as a lonely troll with nothing better to do than harass mommy bloggers on the internet. Thank you, Dicky, from the bottom of my heart, for protecting my innocent child from his selfish and inadequate mom.
Now, onto Dicky’s next criticism: my staying up late to write. (Or rather, “write.”) It is an absolute shame that I didn’t organize my time better, and was completely unaware of what I had going on the next morning, as Dicky so keenly observed. If only I hadn’t spent the day homeschooling my children, running them to the pool, reading them stories, and preparing them meals, then I would’ve had time to complete my work during the day. But like a selfish asshole, I instead chose to wait until the children were in bed and write until 3:00 AM. I should’ve chosen day time neglect and sleep. Why didn’t I choose day time neglect and sleep??? Good God, he’s right. I am selfish!
But more importantly, I’m wrong. If only I would follow the troll’s sage advice, I’d never have a parenting problem again! I should never have brought my children to church, and I shouldn’t have stayed up late that one time either. If I’d been smart, like little Dicky, then nobody would’ve ever thrown a tantrum. They certainly wouldn’t have just screamed and cried about something else. Oh how I wish Dicky had given me this advice sooner!
And finally, let’s look at Dicky’s last complaint (for now!): my writing. I’m not entirely sure exactly what it was about my writing that offended him so much, as he did not specify. But no matter. It must be truly awful if this man child, who writes blog comments the way Hemingway surely would have, thinks I’m terrible at it.
So, it is with sad resignation that I must announce an end to my writing career. The outlets that have published my work will be embarrassed to learn that they were contracting with a non-writer. I don’t know what I’ll do for an income now. I’ll have to get a lot better at clipping coupons, and the children will be in for a disappointing Christmas.
But it must be done. Dicky has willed it so. Farewell, dear readers. I must bid you adieu. I thank you for sticking by me all these years despite the fact that I was only faking it all along. It must’ve been hard for you to slog through each of my unreadable posts. But you did it. You are to be commended.
And Dicky, to you I extend my greatest respect. It takes a lot of courage to be an internet troll–to sit behind your 2 functioning computer monitors and 16 old CPUs that you’ll get around to fixing up some day–and dispense your vitriol to bloggers on the other side of the world. Thank you for your service.
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