Motherhood Uncensored

If we're going to argue about something stupid, let's raise money for WhyMommy and breast cancer while we do

If you read my blog through a feed reader, then you make the decision to click through to the full post based on my snappy title and compelling first 100 words because I choose to publish partial feeds.  Lately, I've been made aware that this really pisses a lot of you off. Actually, I've known this for awhile, but given the continued back and forth between "Partials" and "Fulls," well, I figured I'd address the issue.

Here's what I have to say about that (but you're going to have to click through to see it).

OH WELL.

I never realized partial versus full feeds were such a big deal until Heather Armstrong linked me on her blog after we were on the same Today Show story about mom bloggers and one of her readers emailed me. She said something to the effect of that she liked my blog but she refused to read anyone who didn't publish full feeds so if I didn't change she wouldn't be reading my blog.

"Oh no!" I gasped. "Let me change it for you right away. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you!"

Please. Screw that.

Apparently she's not alone in her disdain for partial feeds. I hear from folks every now and then that they just can't read me anymore because I publish partial feeds.

And I've seen some pretty heated discussions on Twitter about it.

Personally, I don't care about the extra two cents (if that) that I would get from the extra view on my blog if you click over.

The only reason I publish partial feeds is because my work here has been scraped too damn many times.

And I like to piss you lazy full feed snobs off.

(Okay, not really).

It's never ever bothered me to have to click through on my feed reader to see a post. Never. I'm more than happy to give the blogger whose blog I'm reading for free a click. Maybe even a few. If I'm feeling generous, I might even click their google ads, even if I'm not looking for a sexy Asian wife.

Really?! A click is that much of a pain? Obviously so because I'm writing an entire post about it.

As a writer, I value my writing most. I actually use the partial feed as a means to challenge myself to choose better titles and really think about how I'm opening my posts.

But I won't be changing to a full feed anytime soon. No matter how many times you try to tell me you won't read my blog anymore.

Even the lovely and talented Alice of Finslippy who was rallying for full feeds a week or so ago on Twitter can't make me change, damnit.

So since I know this post will incite one heck of an awesome yet pretty trite discussion about feed readers, let's make something good come out of it. I really hesitated to post on something like "feeds" given that my dear friend WhyMommy has been diagnosed with cancer again (that's 4 times in 4 years).

But then I thought, let's channel our strong feelings about feeds into something that's actually worthwhile.

So, I will personally donate $1 for every comment up to 500 comments to Crickett's Answer, one of the many causes that Susan has helped support over the last four years. This charity provides women with free Lymphedema sleeves, something that helps ease the pain of those undergoing chemo treatment but surprise! is not covered by insurance.

If I raise $500 with 500 comments, then 5 women can get these sleeves that they might not otherwise be able to afford very easily if at all.

[Comments will remain open until Tuesday 12am EST. One comment per person per day. Feel free to say whatever you want. You can't insult me but feel free to insult those who hate people who use full feeds! *KIDDING* Better, insult cancer. Because it deserves to be insulted]

The confusing etiquette of Facebook

I had no qualms about ditching my Facebook account a few years ago when they started banning breastfeeding photos and verrrrrry reluctantly returned last year for Cool Mom Picks and Mominatrix.

It's still so weird, and often times very hard to explain, that social media platforms are now job requirements.

Indeed, I've had my fair share of issues with Facebook, not just due to my husband's whole friending debacle, but also that it's like a big incestuous pool of your entire life for everyone to swim around in.

Babysitters, mothers-in-law, your ex-boyfriend from college that you gave one too many blow jobs to all in one virtual place, reading about all your business at liberty. I realize that I make my living on the internet, often times sharing very personal information, but it's actually pretty well edited, especially compared to the often uncomfortable Facebook sharing of every single morsel of every single day including location, save where your took my last shit.

It's a little disturbing.

Besides, isn't that what Twitter is for?

Now when I hopped back on the Facebook bandwagon, I did the whole "search for everyone I ever knew in my life" rite of passage when I rejoined, which is always a fun time killer, especially when you get to see how all those assholes in high school and college did not age so gracefully.

And it can be pretty cool to connect with people that you would have otherwise never seen or talked to again. 

But then you get down to the whole friending thing, which is more like "acquaintancing" or "notBibicallyknowing" or "formerlyBibicallyknowing." 

Whatever. It's confusing.

Now I could really care less if someone friends me or not. Maybe it's because Facebook is work for me, or because I don't give it that much weight in the long scheme of my life, but I just don't care.

If someone pings me to friend them, and I know who they are or we happen to have some mutual friends, then I'll probably reciprocate.

Sure, it can be a little awkward when a friend's husband or people that I think I know but I'm not sure how I know them requests to friend me, but then I just let them sit in my inbox until I decide what the heck to do.

Are my other friends friends with them? Are these potential friends' mutual friends interacting with them? Can I really waste this much time deciding whether to be friends with someone on the internet?

Can I use the word "friend" any more times in a sentence?

Of course, it always depends on how they use Facebook, which you won't actually know until you friend them.

Do they just update cute little anecdotes about their kids, interesting links, funny photos, that sort of thing? Or are they the type to update every 14 seconds, tag you in GOD AWFUL pictures from 1994, or, worst of all, send you "gifts" or as I call them "gifts that are so not gifts and shall therefore be deleted?"

And then, do I really want them to know any more of my business?

So, friend me or not, I'll live.

Too bad that's not always the case with everyone else.

Facebook blocking is now being used to spite and backstab.

"Oh please, please! Don't take away my access to your interesting updates about your garden!"

Whether it's because you refuse to friend them or you did something to piss them off in real life, the way to really get people back apparently is to block them on Facebook.

I much prefer the old awkward avoidance myself.

And apparently if you don't wish to friend them on Facebook (which I have actually done, especially with certain family members), then they take this as an offense of epic proportions.

It's this whole "I know you, or I knew you once, or I know people who know you sort of and so you must give me access to your business, damnit!" that's a little confusing.

Shit people, that's why I write a blog.

What's your Facebook etiquette policy?

{This post is syndicated at Blogher.com - got more thoughts about Facebook as part of your job, please share them!}

Badge of honor

During all these FTC rumblings, PR Blackouts, and ridiculous bullshit that really makes the blogosphere look more like a soap opera that a community, I've kept my mouth shut.

Well, mostly.

But I can only be inundated with articles on mommy blogger money making schemes for so long before I have to say something.

I started this blog back in November 2005 as a way to tell stories about my own experiences with motherhood. It's actually evolved into more of a "mom blog" over the years, much to my own surprise, but never did I ever plan on it being a money maker.

And guess what. It's really not.

For the few early months with BlogHerAds, I could pay my car payment. But aside from that, the ads that you see on this site pay for a week's worth of groceries. I rarely write up any products, and if I do, I filter them over into my review blog. And while I can't complain about some of the freebies I've received, I never really write about them here.

This blog is like my Ketel One martini that shall not be tainted by the cheap crap no matter how much you try to bribe me with it or send me cases for free.

No, no, HELL NO.

What this blog has done is provide a springboard for other projects, like Cool Mom Picks, and Parent Bloggers Network, and the Mominatrix, so I'm afforded the luxury of separating professional from personal, for the most part.

But with all the FTC and the blackouts and brownouts and everything else that sounds oddly close to people having shit issues, I've felt the need to disclose that the things I talk about (unless otherwise specified) are not paid for. That when I link to a product, I really do like it. And if I don't like it, then I make fun of it and drink out of it.

And honestly, I think that sucks.

It sucks that you can't go to a blog and know automatically whether the person is legitimately loving something or whether they got paid to love it.

That doesn't mean I'm hating on all the people that write sponsored posts or PR regurgitations or whatever other things people do to make money from their blog.

But when the lines get blurry, it bothers me. When I see people swipe stuff from another blogger and change one word without giving so much as a credit or a link, it pisses me off. Whether it's a line from their "submit" page or a part of an entire post or a blog name that someone already came up with in a  post and you decide "Hey, I think that would make a great blog," it still matters.

No, there are no laws that state that you can't do that. But it takes away the community. And it's disrespectful.

We shouldn't need buttons or badges to tell people we've got integrity. And many bloggers, particularly those who absolutely don't do any posts about products or reviews or giveaways or all of that stuff and who treat people, bloggers, and their writing with respect, probably don't.

But since I've got my foot in a few places, I want people to be perfectly clear that when they come here, they know what they're getting.

Whether you happened to find my blog on a random google search for "Tuna Helper" or whether you've been reading this blog since I first started writing.

Which is to say I talk about unabashedly about vaginas, cock rings,and ass issues, almost as much as I talk about my three beautiful children.

And while I blog with a sailor's mouth, I also blog with integrity.

Abso-fucking-lutely.

It's Hip to Be Square or in my case, a Parallelogram

With the emergence of Babble and half a dozen other "hipsta - urban parent" blog outlets, I'm starting to realize that I'm far from cool.

Basically, I'm warm. Luke warm.

At one point in my life, I might have considered myself to be fairly "in-the-know" -- whatever that means exactly. It's such a subjective term and quite frankly if "cool" means anything close to what the mainstream is touting these days, then I'm sort of glad I'm not.

But if it means being funky, different, and downright fan-fucking-tabulous, then oh-how-I-wish to be cool.

At some level, it's hard not to be envious of the fabulous hipsters that write daily on all things supposedly relevant to my life as a parent. Do I care that Boston is the best place to have kids? Not really. Am I excited that PeeWee Herman is making a comeback? Eh. Not so much. But I still read it anyway.

Because let's face it...

Don't we all want to be just a little bit hip in our fairly average suburbia lives?

But as we strive to be the slim jean, ripped shirt, dark-rimmed glasses set that make the bad mom the new good, part of me (and a few other people) [added: okay... since I wrote this... about 14000 other people wrote about this here topic plus some huge Time article] can't help but think it becomes just a little bit tired, fairly exclusive, or perhaps, one dimensional.

Damnit. It's hard to be cool all the time.

And as I read I wonder... Is there no softer side? No room for flashing princess shoes? No shopping at Old Navy? No space for the weepy, overdramatic mother of a growing brood? Is that so totally UNCOOL now?

Or maybe that's what Clubmom and Babycenter are for...

Part of me enjoys the variety of blogs I write, and the various personas they represent. Do I curse and talk about balls for the majority of my day? God. I hope not. And I'm certainly not the uber indy shopper when I'm perusing the clearance racks at Target. Hello. Even Cool Moms do sales.

And so, I think that where I am, in this mix of suburban meets hipster-wanna-be meets child-led parent who just so happens to wear dark-rimmed glasses (at night, that is), is pretty darn cool. Sometimes I don't drink and I don't curse. Sometimes I crush hard on my kids, dress her in floofy dresses, and buy princess pillow cases.

Maybe it's time to let hip be square or whatever other shape you want it to be and let uncool be the new cool.

Motherhood Uncensored. Tragically un-hip and loving every fucking minute of it.

The Little Blog Women: Quotable Lucinda, Witty Liz, Intelligent HBM and Random Mrs. Fortune

Loosely inspired by Chase's participation in the nerdy cool Lost Blogs deal where she blogged as Amelia Earhart, I have decided to attempt to blog like some of my favorite blog pals (aka the Little Blog Women - Hello L.M. Alcott fans, anyone?). Granted, people seem to like my style, but it's always nice to have a change and perhaps I can tweak my writing and gain more readers. Knowing my luck however, I'll probably lose some, but I'm not going to think about that.

So, my first thought was to emulate the Dialoggablogga Master, Lucinda. Seriously, the girl can post 14 pages of pure, hilarious dialogue.

"Is that a thong you're wearing?"

"No, I like to call it 'butt-floss'"

"Okay, but wouldn't you throw the floss away when you're done - especially if it was touching your ass?"

"Well, no, not really, because it's a thong. Who throws away a thong?"

"Right, um, not you, I gather."

-- Problem is, I really have no interesting dialogue with anyone but myself - see above - (and that's just a little to scary to post - and wouldn't it all have to be ONE long paragraph?) or my 21 month old (and you all know how that would go - think painful, bleeding ears, rhythmic rocking, and humming of Stars and Stripes Forever...).  If I did have a funny conversation, I could probably only remember about 4 lines and then I'd need to pull out a notepad and pen OR my voice recorder, which would probably kill the entire thing. So, I'll leave that funny shit to Lucinda. --

Then, I thought that I need more sounds and self-talking. While I do feel as though my readers really get what I'm saying, there's nothing like a "urgh" or "feh" to make them really get it. Or, the [turning corner, running quickly with head up ass] thoughts that add that little "something." Well, there's no one like Mom-101 when it comes to blog "sounds" and "self-banter." Seriously, aside from her mastery of the "beh-feh-meh" triple combo,  she might have the best "ack/double ack" placement on the internet.

I'm not quite sure if that comment was supposed to be insulting. Ack. Or if I was supposed to take it as a back-handed compliment. Double ack. [Pretty for a New Yorker... - isn't that a name of a Woody Allen movie?]. Either way, the woman had a hump on her back that was no match for even an Arabian Camel and I'm pretty sure I saw her spit halfway across Manhattan. Feh.

-- Sadly, even my impression doesn't make sense. I have a total lack of "sound placement and self-talk intuition." And, I have no idea how exactly to spell the damn sounds. Like I've used "pfffftttt," but isn't that what a fart sounds like? and, are they italicized or quoted? How does she know all this? However, I can strategically place a damn good muthafucking expletive. So, I'll just stick with that. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?--

Or perhaps I need to use a lot of huge words and insert various cute pictures of my daughter. It's funny, interesting, and educational. Like Her Bad Mother, I'm a professor. I can use the DAMN BIG WORDS DAMNITALLTOHELL.

Hitherto my readers, I offer you tidings from the land of whence forsaken bulbous-headed Lilliputians came forth and dragged me tossing and traversing into a place so darkened by pain and sorrow that I can only creep through to a higher plateau of warmth, depth, and majesty.

Is my magnanimous moment distracted by such utter sweetness?

--But alas, while I may know big words, I have no idea how to use them to form actual sentences like my dear HBM does, so I'll just stick to various expletives and witty 12-point scrabble words. Plus, her daughter looks way cuter with a big pile of bubbles on her head. I promise.--

And finally, I considered just posting about totally random shit that absolutely no one in the entire universe would ever think of, but yet, I do and I make it so damn funny that on occasion people might actually pee themselves laughing. You know, like Mrs. Fortune.

I've often pondered whether street signs could possibly be code words for the Witness Protection Programs. I mean, they have to keep track of them somehow, so maybe it's through street names.

Do you ever wonder if mad cow disease can be caught by women? Crazed pregnant women who could, in theory, eat an entire box of McDonald's fish sandwiches and not feel bad.

I'm seriously considering getting my belly button pierced. I've got to find something to distract away from the stretch marks and oh, the large belly still housing a baby.

-- But, let's face it. I just can't sell the random and totally hilarious posts as well as she can.--

So, while I admire these great bloggers, and many others whom I have yet to humor with my piss-poor impressions (Izzy, you're on my list, and ps I love your new site, and pss we love our CMP logo, and psss I'm so glad you're going blogher. hehe.), I like to think that my little formula of "sarcasm, cynicism, and a no more mrs. nice mom approach to the mom blog" works. Maybe not for everyone, but just enough to make me feel like people like me. And damnit. That's all that matters. Bah.

Okay, so did you like my impressions? Well, even if you didn't, go here and sign up for the email newsletter. Tell them I sent you. Why? Because if I refer 25 people, and I'm one of the first five, then I get a free ipod shuffle. And I like free stuff. Particularly that. I don't have one. I'm not cool. I want to be cool on the plane ride to Arizona next weekend, for my 30th birthday in 3 weeks, and my trip to Blogher. You get the picture. Oh,  and you can do all this too (refer people, that is). Today I got children's book recommendations from them - not bad.