DadCentric

The Faster Times Asks: Are Dadbloggers The Most Important Feminists Online Today?

Here's a mystery quote. See if you can guess who said it:

"We know that we can do what men can do, but we still don't know that men can do what women can do. That's absolutely crucial. We can't go on doing two jobs."

If you were hoping that the kerfluffle over Babble's recent Top Dad Bloggers/Top Twitter Moms lists had gone away, well, sorry to disappoint you. 

Longtime readers - or, really, anyone who's spent more than a few minutes browsing this site - know that we rarely take such lists seriously. We've been named to some, left off of others, and six years into it, every guy that writes for DadCentric will tell you that yes, it's nice to be acknowledged, and yes, such acknowledgement and $3.50 will get you a grande latte at Starbucks.

Making some subjective list was never really the point, and never has been. What struck me as interesting were the women who bemoaned the fact that dads were trying to crash an exclusive party, one reserved for mombloggers. That's always seemed to me to be contradictory and self-defeating. We know that dadbloggers are thought leaders when it comes to changing the way society looks at fathers - and, more important, the way that fathers looks at themselves. We know that our partners are our staunchest supporters when it comes to our desire to share the parenting load. And yet, when dads look for a seat at the Parenting Magazine/Website/Blogging table, we're greeted with apathy, indignation, or derision. If the online parenting space is a metaphorical tripod, it's one with a shorter, wobbly third leg. 

Over at The Faster Times, writer Nathan Hegedus - an expat dad living in Sweden, which sounds like an equal parenting paradise - finds this a bit self-defeating: "Mom bloggers need to realize something", he writes. "Dad bloggers are your allies." (Emphasis is mine.) I'm quoted extensively in the article, but that shouldn't stop you from reading it, as Hegedus makes an excellent point about the waste and futility of creating divisions where there should be none. Oh, and that quote above? Gloria Steinem.

Are Dad Bloggers The Most Important Feminists Online Today? via The Faster Times.

 

 

#OccupyBabble!

So this is happening. 

Now, here's the funny part:

We're holding steady at #9, by the way. (FULL DISCLOSURE: we nominated ourselves, because hey, why not? DadaRocks did!) Now, to be fair, Babble does have 3 actual dadbloggers (along with that Single Dad Laughing guy, who we believe is some sort of celestial being/Matrix Agent, at least after reading his descriptions of himself) on the payroll. And a bunch of us did receive a blast email in June from Babble, saying that they're "doing a big feature on dad blogs* to coincide w/the launch of a Dad section...date TBD". In any case, if Babble is a true parenting site, and not just a site for moms (although...y'know, if ESPN devoted 90% of its coverage to football, wouldn't that make it a football channel, not a "sports" channel?) then they should be stoked to see the other 50% of the parenting equation represented on their contest.

*yeah, we're under no illusion that we'll get a mention in that big dad blog feature after these shenanigans.

UPDATE (10/21/11)!

 

Bronies Are Passionate, Creepy

I've been watching, with some interest, the Bronie flame war that's erupted over at SD Momfia. Way back in June, my wife Beth wrote that post about Bronies - adult males who are rabid fans of My Little Pony - and how they're sort of, well, creepy. Since then, the Brony herd (I'm assuming that's what the collective is called?) has been piling it on, maybe protesting a bit too much about their whole deal and the greatness that is MLP. Here are some of the best comments:

Commenter "Marrik": "That man isn’t the head bronie. bronies are not lead by one individual so there is no leader at all."

Commenter "Brotaku": "...these little ponies are cute and small and sweet, and somewhere in our male minds, buried below the repressed feelings and pointless displays of masculinty, is an instinct to protect the cute, the small, the helpless. To prove my point ask any brony how he felt when Gilda made Fluttershy cry."

Commenter "Relictus": "I like the characters, and it’s a pleasant diversion from the real world of rampant unemployment and a faltering economy. Plus, you learn a little something about friendship every episode. I don’t really have friends – but ponies won’t judge me."

Commenter "Aiden Raccoon": "Oh come on. I’m in the furry community and, while true, furries find plenty of fap material, MLP is NOT one of them."

So, I don't see what the big deal is here, other than, you know, the whole "adults turning a cartoon show aimed at my four-year-old daughter into a fucking lifestyle choice" thing. Also, Hitler.

 

 

 

MomCentric - Kristen Chase, "Fathers, Be Good To Your Daughters"

Hi all - Jason here. Every so often we turn the reins over to one of our favorite moms; today's special Guest Mom is Kristen Chase, the prolific scribe who can be found at Motherhood Uncensored, Cool Mom Picks, Cool Mom Tech, and at fine booksellers everywhere. Here she candidly talks about her father, and the long shadow that he cast over her life.

I've been robbed a couple of times in my life, but none of those compare to what my father took from me.

I go through phases of remembrance, most of it fading into a sad, hurtful past that I thought had been long buried with him.

But six feet wasn't deep enough for these old wounds.

I wrangle with who to blame for my own faults, most of which are a direct result of his abuse and alcoholism and my mom's apathy and ignorance, conquered by my own willpower and ability to scrape by, a good many years in therapy scrubbing off the protective layers one by one. But there is one I am only now fully grasping.

He erased an entire word from my vocabulary. Like it never even existed.

Intimacy.

Part of me wants to believe that I never actually had a fighting chance with that asshole of a father, and I often wish he had taken something, anything else.

My right fucking arm.

I've come to realize that the only true love I've ever known is what I feel for my children. It's like a punch to the gut that's magnificent even as you fall to the ground breathless. The thought of losing them impossible to bear for even a millisecond.

But men? Never.

I did what I thought was love until I was hurt, and then I pushed it aside and moved on to the next. Now I have kids and am less able or willing to do anything.

But I often wonder what might have been. Or could have been.

Before my dad died he told me I'd die a miserable person, and at the time, I laughed at him.

"No, you will" I said. "I have friends and people who love me."

But maybe he knew. Maybe he was right. The slaps on my face during the last moments I ever saw him a stinging reminder that he'd win, with my new life imitating my old life like a chapter in a psychology book.

I am strong. But not strong enough.

"In my next life," I whisper to myself. And then I put on my mascara, fold the laundry, and pray that I'm wrong.

Very very wrong.

Stranger in a Strange Land? Poppycock!

While I've never really felt out of place at any of the three BlogHers I've attended, at 2011's installment in San Diego, I felt even more at home than I have at previous ones, as I knew I'd have several fellow DadCentric writers present, along with Doug French and his uncanny ability to work, "We're launching Dad 2.0 next March!" into any conversation, panel, or rallying cry.

Plus, I knew I'd know at least 5% of the 3000 women there, including one in the Old Testament sense, as I finally talked Mrs. Muskrat into making the trek. 

Despite the above, I was stopped Saturday afternoon by a woman after the "humor blogging" session with the folowing:

Her:  Hi, I'm -- (I forgot her name).  Were you in the humor blogging session?
Me:  I was!  Wasn't I humorous?
Her:  So, I have a question.
Me:  Okay.
Her:  How did you get here?
Me:  I had over 100,000 sky miles.  Plus a bunch of Marriott points.  We--
Her:  No.  I mean, do they just LET YOU IN?
Me:  I may be from Georgia, but I know when to wear shirts and shoes.  I even remembered my lanyard!
Her:  I mean, I'd heard males were allowed to come to BlogHer; I just didn't...
Me:  When you say "males," I look for the breeding Labradors.  What the f--
Her:  No...I mean.  So...you just came to BlogHer?
Me:  Yes.  I bought a ticket.  Via THE INTERNET.  Like I did for Mom 2.0 and the last two BlogHers!
Her:  Oh.  Why?
Me:  I have their little ad tower on my personal blog, and I like these people.  Writers are fun!
Her:  Oh!  I get it.  Men are coming for the same reasons women come to this conference!
Me:  Yes!  Can I interest you in a Twitter follow?

And so began another beautiful friendship via the world wide web.

Two Rides Home: A BlogHer11 Recap, More or Less

Photo by Backpacking Dad

Back in April, a few of us DadCentricians went to New Orleans to represent the patriarchy at a little shindig called the Mom2.0 Summit.  I wrote a recap of that experience here, and if you read it, you may remember that I was very excited to have met a bunch of my imaginary friends in real life, spoken on a panel, and talked about blogging nonstop for 3 days.

While Mom2.0 Summit is no mere Tupperware party, the annual BlogHer conference is what I like to call the Mother Of All Mommyblogging Conferences, or MOAMC, and this year it drew somewhere around 3,000 attendees.

This year, BlogHer was held in San Diego, America's Finest City (fact!), where three of us DadCentricians (the boss, The Didactic Pirate, and me) happen to live.  So it was a no-brainer that I would attend.  And I did.  We three dudes from the Daygo (that's what gangsta dads call San Diego) met up with Two Busy, Whit, and TheMuskrat, and kind of did the same thing we did in New Orleans.  Except we weren't on any panels.  And some of the guys brought their wives.  (To a mommyblogging conference!  Imagine!) And instead of bunking with a bunch of grubby dadbloggers after the nightly debauchery that's standard for all mommyblogging conferences, I went home to my family.  So, as I was saying, the experience was almost nothing like Mom2.0 Summit.

I believe that The Muskrat will soon be contributing a recap that will focus on the poignant and inspirational experiences of the conference, so I would simply like to share a couple memorable interactions I had with some fellow dadbloggers while riding home after the evening's activities.

Things I'm Keeping My Daughter The Hell Away From, Part I: Beauty Pageants

In many ways, sadly, it's still a Man's World, and a great many men still adhere to the hopelessly outdated notion that being a beauty pageant contestant is something that little girls should aspire to. I respectfully disagree; while I'm sure that the ability to walk around in heels and a bathing suit is a valuable Life Skill, I'm steering her in a different direction - an educated, intelligent citizen of the world. Apparently, that's not really a priority for the folks at the Miss USA pageant; they like their gals young, skinny, and God-fearin' (we're assuming that Barefoot and Pregnant comes later, else why bother to have a Mrs. USA pageant?) In this video, Don Draper's idealized future of American womanhood is asked whether or not evolution should be taught in school. (As you watch it, keep in mind that it's not intended as a joke; this is part of the Miss USA marketing campaign, and is supposed to be sending the message that these women are setting a fine example to our kids.) My daughter is three, and she's already got a leg up on 99% of the vacuous bimbos in this video: she knows that dinosaurs existed, and can even name several. 

Damn, that vid's about 15 minutes long. For those of you who haven't the time, patience, or stomach for it, here's the highlight reel:

 

Chris Rock famously joked that his main job as father to his daughter is simple: keep her off The Pole. Stuff like this reinforces our shared belief. I'm fiercely protective of my daughter, in ways that weren't immediately apparent to me but have crystalized as she's developed into a thinking person. Keep her off the pole, yes; keep her mind sharp and open, and keep instilling in her the belief that she's only a caricature if she chooses to be? HELL yes.

How Did I Get Out of Mommy's Tummy?

From 4:00 until around 4:30 every afternoon, it's just my 4-year-old daughter and I in the car. When she removes her thumb from her mouth for long enough, we have some fairly interesting conversations!

Today, however, wasn't so much "interesting" as it was "fucking uncomfortable."

Maddie the preschooler:  Daddy, how did I get out of Mommy's tummy when I was just a baby?
Me:  Um.  Well.  You came out through her private...area.
Maddie:  You mean her front bottom? 
Me:  Well.  Yes.  I guess.
Maddie:  That's diss-CUSS-ting!
Me:  I was actually looking at her left shoulder, so that I wouldn't pass out.
Maddie:  Her shoulder? 
Me:  Everything below that area was a bit--as you said--disgusting.  You should've seen the hospital bedsheets afterward!  But people like to say it's beautiful.  These people are, in my estimation, full of poop.
Maddie:  Did it hurt Mommy when I crawled out of her front bottom?
Me:  I think you sort of slid.
Maddie:  I guess it wasn't that bad then, was it?
Me:  Not too bad.  Mommy loves drugs.  I mean.  Mommy loves babies!
Maddie:  Drugs?
Me:  Do you think Arthur will let DW play with his friends today? 
Maddie:  I can't WAIT to get home and watch Arthur!
Me:  Me too.

The 5 Most Important Things I Learned at the Mom 2.0 Summit

Since Whit gave such a great recap of the Mom 2.0 Summit, I'll dispense with the background information and charge directly to the meat of the matter, which will be of especial interest to you bloggers out there who missed it: the most important insights I gleaned during this, my first blogging conference.

1. Conferences are where you connect with the Big Players in the Industry.  Wow.  I met so many movers and--yes--shakers, as well.  These are the people who make parent-blogging the multi-thousand dollar business it is.  I was privileged to meet CEOs and CFOs of marketing and advertising organizations.  We talked about monetization, SEO, brand-building, and a lot of other really important things that I don't understand at all.  Then we exchanged business cards.  Theirs were printed on much higher quality paper than mine, and weren't softened by pocket sweat.
2. Being a daddyblogger at a conference full of mommybloggers makes you an automatic rockstar.  In my case, Sting. As a feminist, I'm fervently opposed to being fawned over by mommybloggers.  It's degrading to everyone involved.  How hollow it is to be given undue attention simply because you are among a group of maybe twenty men perceived as a sensitive, artistic, and yet roguish at a gathering of 3500 women.  Women amped up by a rare weekend away from their kids, a fleshly realization of their online camaraderie, and piles of shiny swag.  For a fella, the attention can be daunting.  The constant dinner invitations, "where you at?" tweets, photo ops, and unsolicited hugs.  Objectification goes both ways, ladies.  
3. It's really difficult to stay completely sober for any length of time in New Orleans. It's almost as if they want you to drink a lot.  You can enjoy adult beverages as you walk down the street, and there are no rules about when bars or liquor stores should shut down.   Some sub-headings I would include if I were better at formatting: 1) I thought I had stopped liking bourbon a long time ago; but it turns out that I was just drinking bad bourbon. 2) The much maligned and widely banned sports drink/hobo wine called Four Loko is in fact the very nectar of the gods, gushed forth from the fountain of youth, and replete with rejuvenating electrolytes.  3) You will never be alone in a bar at dawn in New Orleans.
4. Meeting your imaginary friends In Real Life is way better than just meeting regular people.  What are the chances that you would meet some schmo off the street and have days worth of conversations and ideas to share?  Slim, right?  But as geeky as it sounds, all the folks I met that I "knew" from our blog/facebook/twitter interactions exceeded my expectations of how they would be in real life.  With one exception: I never would have guessed that Whit Honea would be the kind of sadist that would torture a sentimental drunk who is separated from his family for the first time, and known to be sappy about dogs, by showing him pictures of his own recently deceased dog being hugged by his adorable children and causing said drunk to weep openly in a bar/laundromat at 7:00 a.m.  So not cool.
5. The stars are aligned for the ascendancy of the daddyblogger!  This time for real.  The folks that brought us Mom 2.0, in collaboration with fast-talking New York schmoozer Doug French (Laid Off Dad), are cooking up a for-real daddyblogging conference that will go down in the spring of 2012, called the Dad 2.O Summit.  This will finally put us on the map!  Our relevance in the marketplace of ideas will be acknowledged!  Our influence on the purchasing habits of American families will be recognized!  Our voice in the conversation about the future of the family structure will be heard!  At the very least, we'll get to hang out together in a cool city and get lots of free AXE products and boner pills.  And Four Loko.

 

This is how they serve it at the Ritz

 

I didn't really take many pictures at the conference, so I just added this random shot of Sting and a fan

 

 

 
 

     

 

 

 

 

When Puberty Strikes Like Lightning

You can see the storm coming for sure.

But sometimes you just don't know when it is going to hit.

Sure, there were signs: he pointed out that J Woww's boobs were big, his voice has gotten deeper and his penis is a popular topic to discuss.

But then there were questions I wasn't prepared to answer.

Like the day he blurted out, "I don't believe in the story of Adam and Eve."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Like that all people came from those two?"

"Yeah," he said. "I believe in evolution. Because the other way is gross."

"You mean like you shouldn't kiss your sister, that kind of thing?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said.

And it was left at that. It was left with me scratching my head and him probably wondering just how people become people. The head scratching because Adam and Eve is a story of religious bent and I'm not sure where he heard it. I mean public school can't teach religion, right? Okay, I live in the South so who am I kidding? Can they teach evolution? Suddenly I felt lost. I felt like I didn't know what my child was learning or where he was learning it from and I knew it was time to step in.

His sudden interest in boobs and growing fascination with his cock & balls signified it was time to have the father-and-son talk about the birds and the bees. 

But the goddamn school beat me to it.