Ha ha. I had to laugh and I am completely with you on this.

I have watched many of my friends, who used to be able to talk intellegently about practically any subject, become almost cultish in their obsession with their babies and their own bodies. They also seem to be under the misguided believe that I find it all very interesting and crave the next instalment in the joys of being a woman and mother, as well as information on the ‘very helpful’ products out there! I understand that they are happy and excited, but, really, watching my friends being taken over is very unsettling…

You know how you can put a child lock on the internet to stop the little cherubs from accessing naughty sites? Do you think we can invent one that stops us from stumbling on the horrors that can be found on a mommyblog?

lmao… and who says it’s a man’s world?

I’m such an insensitive bastard…or something.

Whew, I wonder where your angst comes from? Zealots are a bit tedious in any form, even yours.

I’m glad I watched your space. It is a first-class rant a good one that is much needed! Thanks!

These are the same women who refuse to take a shower because it’s bad for the environment. How about this…..they stank.
I’m a mother and I don’t let that define who I am. I remember getting a whole ration of crap because I didn’t breastfeed and I bought disposable diapers. You know what? My kid turned out just fine. I don’t need to turn myself into some non-bathing, maxi pad washing dairy cow to be a woman. I thought those days were over.

I dunno, this whole dam thing is so funny, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Jayne, I admire your restraint. Wash your maxipads? Reusable tampons? Circle the wagons, I feel a rant coming on.

My grandmother’s generation were pioneers. Their “monthlies” were an awful shameful secret–no pads at all–no Midol–and they had a stash of absorbent cloths which they washed (separately) in boiling water and Clorox OUT OF NECESSITY. All things female were, hmmm, unclean. It was a curse placed upon woman by an angry, male Judeo-Christian god for Eve’s having been disobedient and tempting Adam in the Garden of Eden and causing the Fall of the Human Race. No shit. That was the dogma. (Don’t think for a minute it has all died out.)

My mother was Rosie, the Riveter. With tens of thousands of American Women, she slipped into her trousers–which were, for the first time, respectable attire for the ‘girls’–work boots, tied up her hennaed, skip-waved tresses in bandanas and built the hardware that won World War II. In her spare time, she raised the next generation of America’s children with help from one another, raised a garden and canned the produce, kept leaky roofs patched and the lawns mowed–while sewing EVERYBODY’s clothing (because manufacturer’s were making uniforms.) After which, Johnny came marching home again, America’s Rosies were sent back to the lunch counters and laundry rooms of the nation and expected to be ‘good girls’ with the thanks of a grateful nation.

In the 1960s, my generation confronted the ire of a (still) male-dominated nation, stepped out of our 3-inch Betty Davis come-fuck-me-pumps, girdles, and underwire-push-up bras and into the law schools, med schools, universities and businesses, then–finally–the polling places of this country and raised enough ruckus to (1) make the ‘git in the kitchen, girl’ crowd float to the surface–for easy identification, and picking off one at a time. Among the other things we raised was the consciousness of our everyday guys who just hadn’t given it much thought.

Breast feed? Recycle maxipads? Reuse tampons? You outta yer fuckin’ mind? We have a world to change before some damnfool makes it uninhabitable. Let’s save the human race from itself…then take up smaller issues as time allows.

Oh dear, dear, dear. This is just beyond the realms of ecofriendliness. I watched a BBC3 programme the other night called ‘How Dirty Can I Get’ which involved ‘Moon cups’…I nearly puked up at the thought of walking round with a baby’s bottle teat shoved up my bits.

I guess next we will be told to wipe our bums with Dock leaves after a satisfying dump. Well, not this Agnes Mildew. I am going to stick to my Andrex, tampons, pads, - whatever I want. I am not going to end up a smelly, fly-blown crusty for anybody!

The amount of VAT Gordon Brown rips off sanitary products would pay for a massive recycling plant, anyway, so yah boo sucks!

You mean not everyone washes their maxi pads?

wow. i, um, feel silly.

next thing i know, you’ll be telling me other women don’t use their monthly flow instead of buying blush.

then i’ll feel REALLY stoopid.

I am so glad you said it. I love the mommyblogs where the women are smart and funny and laugh at themselves and their lives. But, there are so many out there and many have nothing else to say rather than “Tommy had peas for lunch! Look!

I am way too snarky and bitchy for those blogs. It’s kind of like college when you could tell those of use learning secondary education Vs. elementary. Every class break we would take our hungover selves outside to smoke and check out guys asses. The Elem. Ed. teaches would be showing each other their new cool “wavy” scissors…

I love your blog. A little something to show my appreciation http://fishwithoutbicycle.blogspot.com/2007/09/belated-heaps-of-thanks.html. Fish xx

Thanks so much for the comments on this one, everyone. It felt fantastic to get it out of my system, and all day yesterday I was slightly worried that I was the only one who would see it that way.

I tell ya, sometimes writing this blog is downright cathartic!

I’ve just started in this blogging game and now you’re the second blog(ger) that has warned me of the dreaded mommy blogger. I’m starting to wake up in the middle of my sleep in hot sweats– yes, I’m waking up in hot sweat pants even though I went to bed in my PJs. Can anyone explain this? I suspect Mommy bloggers are behind it.

That is just nasty. I don’t even know what to say to reusuing maxi pads etc. ew.

My mung bean, eco psycho, designer hemp wearing neice gave to me a specially hand rolled, organic, biodynamic, non bleached, tissue wrapped tampon/med that she had rolling around in her handbag (urgent need). I ended up with a rather nasty and very unwelcome bug that required some serious and vile antibiotics (2 scripts) to get rid of. Needless to say, I now always keep a stash of STERILE and factory manufactured tampons/meds on hand. Washable pads - oh how nasty.

PHEW! Really, really glad you mentioned me first or I might have got a complex! I’m still wiping the tears after howling with laughter at this entry! (Maybe I should change my blog name?!!)

I did actually wash out a panty pad the other day - only it was entirely by accident and made a right mess of the washing machine. Still picking bits of fluff off my DH’s undies now.

Oh yeah, I was going to give you the Bodacious Blog award, but I see you’ve already got it, and besides, my mother reads my blog and I’m not sure I want her following me here! Oh, what the heck! Have it anyway and I’ll just slip you in quietly!

Right then. Just off to become the inaugural member of the “I’m a Mommyblogger But Don’t Have My Head Up My Ass” club!

Oh dear lord. Here comes the comment ranting!

This takes nasty to a whole new level. I love the environment and everything, and most everything I build for myself is made of second-hand things.

But this? Um, no thank you. The landfills won’t be getting my newsprint or old ceramic cups (Recycling and mosaic art, respectively) but they can have my nasty old hygeine products.

And really? Is this all you can think to do for the environment? For women? This isn’t empowering, this is idiocy!

One of the things that annoys me most about “Post-feminism” is that it consists almost entirely of attention-whoring and playing the victim card as opposed to self-betterment.

See, the old-style feminists are the ones I really respect, because they actually fought to make themselves better! They worked in manual labor, they made it so they couldn’t be seen as dolls anymore because they proved themselves.

Sad news, ladies: When I think of feminists, unlike the rest of hte populace i don’t think of hippy-dippy college girls that wore cloth pads or bull dykes that sit around and complain. I think of the chicks out there that put on makeup, pull up their hair, and then go out and spend 8 hours working construction. I think of the women who decide that they don’t want to be seen as objects, so instead of complaining, they make it so they cant be!

You can’t change somebody’s mind! It’s that simple! You have to change yourself. Read some Voltaire, take a self-defense course, toughen up!

The only line of defense between strong men belittling and objectifying women is strong women. Not the whiners. The doers.