Guest Blogger

Is it me, or is there a discernible trend towards moms getting into multi-level marketing (MLM) the minute they leave labour and delivery? It seems like a right of passage for the middle class mom, who chooses to swap corporate life for playground politics. These MLM mamas are a motley crew of former corporate gals all in desperate need of a good night's sleep and a make-work project.

How do I know this? I’ve fallen into this trap twice.

You can see how easily it happens. Motivated mom making the most of maternity leave first figures out baby, then tackles stroller-cise and reno-ing the kitchen. Tasks ticked off, we stumble upon a product we LOVE and get free samples. Learning we can make money at this, we’re signed up before you can say, “home party.” And all we have to do is find more people like us, set the trap for them and start building that pyramid like an Egyptian slave.

And we can take that party on the road, pretending to go on a business trip, like in days of yore. My first “business trip” confused me. I couldn’t decide if I was at a baby shower or an industry conference. I’m all for moms bringing breast-fed babies across country in order to attend, but did we really need to play the game where ribbons affixed to name tags are stolen if one utters certain words such as kids, city and sales? I tell ya, it’s a hard game to win when that’s all you have in common. In desperate need of liquid courage, I was dismayed to learn that "party" here meant an ice cream bar.

Naturally, being women, there has to be a theme and ours was social networking. Costumes were optional but at least five women came dressed in their pyjamas (I’m still trying to figure that one out).

After being divided into teams we were asked to sit on the floor and select a group name. I was with the “Panty Liners.” Two hours of ice breaker games later, we were allowed to go back to our rooms with our roommate.

The whole experience got me thinking. Somehow I couldn’t imagine corporate sales reps putting a pair of pantyhose over their heads, swinging it like an elephant trunk knocking over bottles. Or could I? I’ve witnessed lots of regressive behavior on business trips before, but they typically involved a lot of alcohol. What was our excuse?

Perhaps for some, this right of passage is a temporary fix; one way to feed our restlessness and ambition before reentering the corporate world. For others, this type of scheme is a perfect fit. All I know is, I’ve got way more children’s books than any of you.

SweetMama Calgary contributor, Jody Robbins, is an almost 40-something mother of one precocious gal. She’s not allowed to smile since recently getting braces, but admits to showing off her grill for Bernard Callebaut and any member of the macaroon family.