Is motherhood contagious?

These days it seems all I hear about are bumps and bjorns and birthing plans. I’m 33, and almost every goddamn one of my friends has children (or, if they don’t, they’re about to), barring my lesbian friend who I will forever hold up as my “See? I’m not the only one without babyhood on the brain” person. If Heather ever decides she’s got to reproduce, I don’t know what I’ll do. Probably get knocked up immediately because even though I don’t want kids, I can’t stand to be left in the dust. Any children of mine will be horribly damaged from the get-go, as they will have been conceived out of pure competitiveness. I can see it now. “Mom, was I a mistake?” “No, darling. You were a one-up. It was either you or a summer house, and we couldn’t get a loan.”

It’s no secret that I don’t get mommy blogs. I can’t relate. My babies are the four-footed variety, and when they piss me off I can swat them on the nose and put them in time-out. They needn’t be educated beyond knowing not to piss or shit in the house, when we vacation they can be boarded, and I don’t have to worry about the stigma of teenage pregnancy because they’re all fixed.

So, when I saw that my blog to review today is, yes, another mommy blog, I swore vehemently and sighed wretchedly. It’s not that I hate mommies. I don’t. Really. I have one, and I love her. I read lots of blogs by mothers. Some of my best friends are mothers. It’s just... ugh. I feel a bit like when we had all those emo Indian kid blogs to review. Like it’s in a completely different language and we have nothing in common and any review I might attempt will be woefully one-sided and ignorant.

But I shook it off and plunged in, ready to put aside my prejudices and preconceived notions and see what In the Trenches of Mommyhood (See? She puts it all out there in the title -- it’s about mommyhood!) had in store.

And you know what? I should do that more often.

Because this is a fine blog. The design is three-column, which seems unnecessary. It might help to do away with the third column and get more space for the writing. The banner is huge, and I hate that. There’s no reason for us to have to scroll so far to get to the content, and the picture of the lady with a lamp shade over her head doesn’t add enough to the design to warrant that much space. Sarah has been blogging for a while (and consistently!), so her archives do go on a bit; I suggest rolling them up. And consider some extra pages linked at the top -- an about page, a page for your bling (and holy lord, that’s a lot of bling) to shorten the sidebars, etc.

Overall, it is, indeed, a mommy blog. There’s very little writing here that branches out from family life, parenting, and her kids. But, strangely, I like it. For one, the writing is good. She embraces all the rules of grammar and style, including keeping her posts succinct and cleanly formatted. She talks about poop and wieners a lot, which goes a long way toward keeping my interest. Apparently I can’t look away from genitalia or effluvia. She’s human, thank the lord, and not a mommybot. Sarah seems generally happy and well-adjusted, which is refreshing but also really annoying and jealousy-inducing. I’ll admit there are parts of this blog about which I couldn’t care less. But at the very least those parts are well-written and amusing.

As Love Bites would say, I’d drink with her. And I’d feel a little like I had to watch my mouth, for some reason. Also, over our glasses of wine, I'd want to know more about her and less about her kids. Her kids are cute and all, but I'm more interested in their mom. This is, as she clearly states, her version of a "baby book." Problem is, baby books are for the parents, grandparents, and the kids themselves. Outsiders rarely see them, nor do they usually care to. There's good stuff here, so I see why she's putting it out there, but the blog feels a little... trapped. It's not just a baby book, and it's not just a mommy blog. I believe it started out as a baby book, but as the kids have grown, as she's grown, it's evolved. And I suggest updating the design and focus to embrace that.

Pulling up the cushions

Ever get the feeling you're standing in a room full of people who share some kind of inside joke and you're the only one not in on it? Or, you're the only sober one -- thanks to some strange twist of designated driver fate, perhaps -- at a party where everyone is smoking some seriously great shit and you're entirely left out?

After spending a considerable amount of time sitting on Bond's Big Leather Couch, I still haven't a clue what's going on.

Listen, I take this stuff seriously. I spend time investigating the blogs I review, I click around, I take notes, for fuck's sake. I try to bring you sassy commentary and helpful insight. But this time? I'm stumped. It's obvious the guy's got readers, but I'm at a loss as to why.

The design, quite frankly, is a train wreck. Red text on a bright (glaring!) blue background for the sidebars, and the posts have various words in bold and different colors and sizes and it just makes me want to gauge my eyes out with a paperclip. It looks like there's been a snafu with Blogger because there seems to be some double postage going on. And the posts themselves? Interminable. And chock-a-block full of joke-y pictures the likes of which my grandmother sends me from version 1.2 of AOL. If I'm not mistaken, he uses the royal "we," which is just... I can't even... Please? Don't do that.

There's way too much stuff going on here, too. The sidebars are far too long, and Jesus Lord there are like eleventy-five-hundred badges and doohickeys and ribbons and links and save the freakin' malarial children in Africa (Look, I'm not insensitive. I care about suffering children in Africa. But I think this guy's plea for help would be more effective if it were at all possible to look at his nightmare of a page!). Roll that crap up, put your badges on a separate page if they mean that much to you, and give the rest of us a break.

Above all, I have no idea who this guy is. I don't mean his name and rank, I mean who he is, why I should care, what's the purpose of the blog, and why in blazes I'd want to read a single thing he says. An "About" page might help narrow it down and give readers a clue. From my bewildered clicking and reading, it seems to me this blog has lots to do with American Idol (couldn't care less), baseball (hate it), music retrospectives (fine) and random snippets of pop culture that I read about from other (less cluttered, more witty) sources.

Look, I don't want to hate on this. He's an older guy with a new fangled technology, and he's building a community and doing something he obviously enjoys. And it's clear others enjoy his perspective, too. They get it; I don't. So, don't stop. But for the love of cascading style sheets, find a new template, get some focus, ditch the acres and acres of corny pictures, streamline this steaming pile, and stop using your blog as a repository for internet flotsam and jetsam. There may be roses among the thorns here, but they're too everloving hard to get to.

You get a "meh" for the content and a whole slew of flaming fingers for your template.

Fat and happy

See that picture there? The one just to the left? It's not me. I know, shocking. I'm not a cartoon character with jaunty boobs and a wicked grin. It doesn't look a thing like me, except for the brown hair. If you're out there picturing me as some svelte and toned kitten-with-a-whip glamourpuss, you're wrong.

I'm chubby. Sexy, but round. My clavicle doesn't jut through my skin, I haven't seen my hipbones since God was a boy, and my waist is not the kind you can span with your hands. I have curves, lots of them, and a juicy booty with dimples.

It is what it is. I'm ok with how I look, for the most part. It helps that as a child and teen I was petted and preened and told how lovely I was. Now, as a plump adult, I sometimes forget that I'm not that skinny looker I was in my youth. I'd like to be healthier, and I'd be happy to lose some weight, but I'm not and never have been obsessive about it. I love to eat. Food is glorious. I'm a sensualist, and taste is a sensation I like to indulge. I'm marrying a chef, for heaven's sake.

But even though I feel relatively well-adjusted to my appearance, and I don't strive for cover model thinness, I'm aware of the issues surrounding fat acceptance and eating disorders and America's unhealthy relationship with pleasure and excess. I've felt the sting of judgment about my appearance. I'm interested in the literature, and I can relate as a fat girl in a thin-obsessed world.

Which brings me to my review: Feed Me!

Let's get the design stuff out of the way. It's bland but ok; her website is better -- maybe coordinate the colors of the blog with the colors of the website. It's well-organized and uncluttered, but I'd roll up the archives and increase the width of the sidebar to fit the OpenCongress thingy. But, overall, it's fine.

Harriett is an honest-to-goodness writer about important things: issues related to women and children, eating disorders, mental health, health care policy, activism, etc. This is serious stuff, and often powerful. Sure, it can be a bit of a downer, but it's heartfelt and well-written and I can tell that this is near and dear to Harriet's heart. I'm inspired by her dedication and focus, and frankly I'm a bit ashamed that I don't participate more in issues that move me.

Bloggers, I think, are often self-obsessed and engrossed in the minutia of their own spheres. We're all a bit enthralled with ourselves, don't you think? And we focus our attention on self-congratulatory essays to ourselves full of introspection and navel gazing and attempts to cultivate an audience for our inanities. Yes, some of us are funny and insightful and entertaining, and from time-to-time we glance outward and provide commentary on the latest news or scandal or roadside attraction along the superhighway, but largely bloggers are inward-looking, focusing on the "me." Myself included. It's human nature, and the nature of blogging.

It's nice, though, to read the eloquence of someone who is working for change, who is shining a light on inequalities, and who is reaching out to affect the lives of others in a positive way.

Is this a blog that I'll get into, that I'll add to my blogroll, that I'll rush back to every day to check in and find out what happens next? Likely not. I am, quite frankly, a bit too shallow and vulgar. But I'm glad it's there for those who need it, it provides a valuable resource for discussion and dissemination of information, and I'll champion Harriet's efforts.





Side note: This dance could be called the Calamity, y'all. I'm not kidding.