Simple Pen Holders From Recycled Cardboard Tubes

There are some voices from the early blogging days that stay with you, and Jill Smokler’s was one of them.

Jill Smokler, the founder of Scary Mommy, has died at the age of 48 after a more than two-year fight with glioblastoma, an aggressive form of brain cancer. Scary Mommy shared the news in a tribute to Jill, remembering her as “the original scary mommy” and the woman who built a space where mothers could say the messy, funny, hard, beautiful things out loud.

And that really was her gift.

Here at CraftGossip, we have loved Scary Mommy’s content over the years because it never tried to dress motherhood up as something neat and polished. Jill’s writing was honest. Sometimes brutally honest. Sometimes laugh-out-loud funny. Often the kind of writing that made you sit back and think, “Oh thank goodness, it’s not just me.”

Anyone who has been a mother, loved a mother, been raised by a mother, or simply watched a mother try to get through a day involving snacks, lost shoes, school notes, washing piles, and someone crying because their toast was cut the wrong way, understood the world Jill was writing about.

She didn’t make motherhood look perfect. She made it feel real.

Jill started Scary Mommy in 2008, back when blogging still felt like opening the back door and yelling into the neighbourhood to see who answered. And answer they did. Millions of parents found her words because she said the things so many mothers were thinking but didn’t always feel allowed to say.

That motherhood could be wonderful and exhausting.

That you could love your children fiercely and still need five minutes alone in the pantry.

That family life was sometimes less matching pyjamas and more “why is there cereal in the couch?”

That honesty was not a failure. It was a relief.

We linked to Scary Mommy years ago in our CraftGossip post about building kids’ toys out of old boxes, because the piece we were sharing had that classic Scary Mommy honesty to it. It was practical, funny, and true in the way the best parenting writing often is. Children really will play with whatever sparks their imagination, and sometimes the cardboard box is more exciting than the toy that came inside it.

That was one of the things Scary Mommy captured so well. The ordinary little truths of family life.

The sticky ones. The funny ones. The ones that make you roll your eyes and then secretly treasure them later.

Jill went on to become a New York Times bestselling author with books including Confessions of a Scary Mommy and Motherhood Comes Naturally (and Other Vicious Lies). But for so many readers, her biggest legacy will be the community she created. A place where women could be funny, tired, sarcastic, loving, overwhelmed, proud, frustrated, and completely human.

As bloggers, editors, makers, and mothers ourselves, we know how powerful that kind of honesty can be. Crafting and parenting often overlap in the most chaotic ways — last-minute school projects, handmade costumes drying five minutes before the party, glitter in places glitter should never be, and kids who would rather play with the scraps than the carefully planned activity.

If you are here because you loved that honest, hands-on side of motherhood too, you might enjoy browsing our lesson plans and kids’ activity ideas, our kids craft projects, or the free family-friendly craft projects over on CraftBits. They are the kind of simple, creative ideas that fit real homes, real budgets, and real days when everyone needs something to do before the walls start closing in.

Jill’s illness was something she also shared with openness. After being diagnosed with glioblastoma, she wrote and spoke about her experience with the same honesty that had always defined her work. She did not pretend it was easy. She did not wrap it up neatly. But she continued to show up with humour, courage, and deep love for her three children.

That is no small thing.

For those of us who lived through the early days of blogging, Jill Smokler’s death feels personal in a way that is hard to explain. She was part of a generation of women who changed the tone of writing online. She helped make space for real stories from real mothers. Not polished magazine versions. Not perfect social media versions. Real ones.

The messy middle.

The beautiful chaos.

The days when you laugh because otherwise you might cry.

Jill Smokler leaves behind her children, Lily, Ben, and Evan, and a legacy that reaches far beyond one website. She made millions of mothers feel less alone, and that is a rare and beautiful thing to leave behind.

Our thoughts are with her family, friends, readers, and everyone who found comfort, laughter, or recognition in her words over the years.

In lieu of flowers, Jill’s family has asked that donations be made in her memory to The Brain Tumor Network.