The retrospective collection: biggest hits, sentimental favourites, and experimental B-sides.
blue milk started as a New Year’s resolution.
Very oddly this became my all time most viewed post.
I wrote about how much I hated Bratz dolls. They don’t even exist now.
I had a rough first year of motherhood.
I didn’t fit in.
We found parenthood.. weird (very weird).
And tried to figure out what kind of parents we were.
We moved out of the inner city and into suburbia.
I really struggled with combining work and family, and especially daycare. I struggled with a lot of guilt. And that struggle went on and on.
I discovered that I was supposed to be aspiring to yummy mummydom or Über-mumming or a cocktail version of slacker mummy.
We got our life back together, had sex and stuff.
But lost any sense of cool. And we changed as a couple. (And yet were pretty happy).
I found camaraderie by whining on the Internet.
Having a child re-defined my identity and my feminism.
Then I discovered that there were books out there about this identity and feminism stuff and how it all related to motherhood, and I loved them so.
I enjoyed motherhood too, I just didn’t feel the need to write about that part as much.
Maybe I enjoyed motherhood too much because I became the Go To Place on the Internet for Sexy Breastfeeding Stories.
Then I learnt a lot about toddlers. A lot. In doing so I learnt about myself too. Like, I am actually quite patient.
I thought a lot about the way the world views mothers, and I rolled my eyes a lot.
I got a particularly big fright when I realised so much of the world has such big fucking hang-ups about breastfeeding.
We went on to have a very shitty year, and survived.
The sexualisation of children blew my mind some.
And what to say about sex therapist Bettina Arndt, well quite a bit actually.
I got ever so tired of the martyred mother thing, though I fell for it more than a few time myself.
Motherhood had changed everything about the other most important relationship in my life, the one with my partner. But I didn’t write about that terribly much for the sake of his privacy.
Every now and then we thought we got the hang of this parenthood gig, and then not so much.
Eventually we were no longer novices with babies, just complete dills for every other stage.
We re-visited the work and family arrangement quite a bit.
It took a while to make friends in suburbia.
But mother friends are what makes the world go round.
Sometimes life was just life happening slowly and lightly. Sometimes hard and fast.
I thought about things other than motherhood from time to time too. But mostly it was all still about feminism.
I began to understand that some people hate mothers. Or hate children, which is pretty much the same thing.
And that ‘sexism‘ as a word doesn’t even begin to cover the way we treat childhood, such is the bombardment of patriarchal brain-washing that we undergo. And having a daughter forced me to confront body image issues.
I watched fatherhood from the outside and found it to be very different to what I was going through. He and I tried to have an equal relationship, but we haven’t got there… yet.
Motherhood helped me understand pretty much everything better.
Again, I wondered about the work and motherhood thing. And I got really angry about the fight for maternity leave.
I wrote what became a meme about feminist motherhood, and feminist fatherhood.
I took my first trip away from my child.
I became fascinated in the confessional power of posts about parenting meltdowns.
Then, we got our comeuppance as pretentious hipster parents when our child learned to swear.
We grew a vegetarian, like us.
We took a trip to North Vietnam with our toddler.
We found vulva pride! It was part of an obsession with body sovereignty.
And on top of all that, we got a cat.
Our toddler grew into a little girl, a beautifully willful little girl.
I started reviewing books on here.
I took our daughter out of daycare after a long battle with her anxiety and put her in a Montessori kindergarten instead. It turned out to be the best decision ever.
My feminism evolved and I started thinking, reading and writing a lot more about racism. And queer politics too.
I also started writing for Hoyden About Town, and I was pleased as punch, though not terribly prolific.
I was invited to do a PhD and was awfully tempted until another dream came true and took its place.
And mended my broken heart.
We discovered we were having a boy, which is probably good for blog material because I have been a little focused on the girl side of feminist mothering issues.
But that news also brought its own issues for my fear and loathing of the patriarchy.
I freaked out about birth, again.
I explored intuitive eating with children and managed to take offense and give offense.
If I thought pregnancy was exhausting the first time around that was nothing compared to being pregnant AND also the mother of a small child. All the same, I might love being pregnant.
I got a lot of advice about baby-carrying slings and if you are looking for one, then here.
Then I got so, so, so pregnant.
And finally had a baby.
The second time around with a baby wasn’t nearly as hard, though some of the rocky terrain was familiar.
I still fretted about juggling my career and children. And our daughter made lots and lots of craft.
I kept the blog going this year with a new baby and a kindergartener, but only just. Although, I did manage a spot of activism off-line. And a couple of times this year I actually managed to finish a post on something vaguely feminist (and even once about sex).
I mostly sat in awe of our ability to create an easy baby (relatively easy anyway), and the joy that is watching your first little challenge turn out to be so damn sensible about all this change.
I got to interview Yoko Ono, for a second.
And I was happy, very happy with my adventures this last year.
(Hmm. I can’t believe I have been blogging long enough to do a retrospective, but there you go).
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