The response to Natasha's Queer Parent 101 post was so overwhelming, that I've asked her to become a regular contributor here on Offbeat Mama!

I am a feminist. I believe firmly that a woman's "place" is wherever she wants and needs to be. (I wish very much that we lived in a world where that were possible for all women). I also believe that happy (reasonably) well-adjusted parents make happy, (reasonably) well adjusted children, regardless of whether those parents work outside or inside of the home. So why is it that I find it so difficult to answer the question: "What do you do for a living?" I find it equally distressing to respond to the ever present: "So, when are you going back to work?"

I hate the word housewife. I hate the word homemaker. These words are so loaded with patriarchal bullshit that I can barely utter them in any seriousness, much less use them to describe myself or what I do. Yet that's the check-box that applies to me. And because of it, I get dismissed by the folks at the bank, the car dealership, and occassionally, other parents. It feels like a pretty limiting check box. But what else do I call myself? How can I encapsulate what I do, day in and day out, without sounding either overly-simplistic or self-denigrating?

Continue reading "Yes, I am a feminist housewife" →

So, if there is a little girl in your life, you may have noticed that they are not too terribly bothered about modesty when wearing dresses and skirts. That's all fine and dandy of course — no shame issues need apply!

However, for many reasons, and especially at recess, Bloomers like this adorable pair from littlemave are a great solution.

These are perfect for the girl who likes dresses but still wants to hang upside down on the monkey bars or do cartwheels, or for the girl who thinks tights are itchy. These bloomers could make cute pants, too!

Last December, my husband and I welcomed into this world our first born son: Lincoln. Lincoln Danger. Yep. As you might imagine, a typical conversation following Lincoln's birth went as follows:

Us: It's a boy!
Friend or Family member: Congratulations! What's his name?
Us: Lincoln Danger.
Friend or Family: (blank stare) I'm sorry, did you say Danger?

After the initial surprise, said friend or family member either feigned indifference, pretended not to notice, or (our favorite) broke out into a "That. Is. Awesome. Why didn't we think of that?!"

When you choose an atypical name (even a middle name) for your child, you must be prepared to answer the why's…

Continue reading "How to pick a middle name your kid will WANT to share" →

As the child of hippies, I never really learned how to put on make-up. My first experiences were in the context of doing musical theater in middle and high school — and stage makeup is, uh, not really a good model for daily wear. My cosmetics education then took a turn for the sparkly when I started going to raves in the mid-'90s. Suddenly, I couldn't leave the house without at least three different layers of glitter. Ever. Anyway, this is all to say that I don't know shit about make-up and my taste in eyeshadow is almost as loud as my taste in wedding shoes. Here's one of my more understated looks.

Given this love of sparkles and over-the-top-ness, I'm stupid-giddy about Glittersniffer Cosmetics, the brainchild of Lela, a 24-year-old Detroit mama to a three-year-old. Glittersniffer makes (not just sells — MAKES) some of brightest, sparkliest mineral-based eye shadows I've ever seen in colors like Zombie Girl, Contradiction, and Pink Pistol. Lela makes perfumes and other cosmeticstoo, but I'm obsessed with the eyeshadow. And I'm here to share the obsession with you via a giveaway!

Continue reading "Glittersniffer, cuz mamas need glitter too" →

My father-in-law generously gifted us a super fancy stroller before Tavi was born, and last week we took it for its inaugural stroll.

Dre and I have already gotten super used to baby-wearing, so using the stroller felt like a huge novelty. You mean, the baby sits in there? And I push this thing? And we walk behind it?

This particular stroller is called a BOB, and if you know strollers, it's totally the SUV of baby-pushing devices. Even though we got the lowest-end model, the thing's got shocks, for godsake! We just call it The Overkill Stroller.

Overkill or not, there's no denying it was a smooth ride…

Continue reading "This is me pushing a stroller and feeling weird" →

We're launching a new column here on Offbeat Mama, dedicated to travel advice from an addicted expert. Sarah Franklin edited a book all about traveling with kids, and she'll be taking your questions. Here's Sarah to introduce herself. -Ariel

Pre-kids, my husband and I were that cliché of the thirty-something childless couple, traveling here, there and everywhere with just a copy of the New Yorker and the latest iPod as accessories. Lest you assume I’m exaggerating for the sake of a story, here’s a list of the trips we made from our home in Seattle in the year before our firstborn arrived: Alaska; Hawaii; England and Wales; California; Portland (OR), and New York (twice). Oh, and a weeklong road trip to the foothills of the Canadian Rockies, just for good measure.

In that last pre-kids year, with every trip we took we’d look at each other and say, with a mixture of query and reassurance: “We can still do all this with the baby, you know…” Yeah, we were that cliché too. The couple who assumes that their baby, born into a mobile world, will automatically become a mobile baby, fitting neatly into our universe in his/her hipster pouch/sling/backpack, scaling Mount Kilimanjaro with us with nary a peep about altitude sickness.

Continue reading "Ask the travel addict" →