I Like Free Stuff: The Parent Bloggers Network and Me

Blogging's an interesting game. Some folks are content to write about their cats for an audience of 2 [that is, if they really believe their mothers whent they tell them that they're reading it, even though they never put any comments], and some folks have devoted followings clicking thru thousands of times a day. Most of us are somewhere in between, reading and commenting and linking in our little corner of the blogosphere—say, the parenting blogs—and remaining blissfully unaware that some of our better-known compatriots *cough* MetroDad *cough* are getting free stuff sent to them by companies who just want them them write about them, good, bad, indifferent.

Since Rice Daddies launched almost a year ago, we've gotten a couple e-mails from the makers of Asian-themed children's books or whatever, hoping we'd mention their products. [Hint: if you want us to review something, you gotta send us the actual thing you want us to review.] But alas, no unbidden portable DVD players or anything like that. But now, for all the regular schmoe parentbloggers who want the hook-up and just don't know how to work it, comes The Parent Bloggers Network. It's the brainchild of hapa mom and blogpreneur extraordinaire Kristen Chase, she of Motherhood Uncensored and Cool Mom Picks [who can't, you know, just hang out, 9 months pregnant, waiting to have a baby, she has to start a new business or something], and acts as a coordinator between companies who want parentbloggers' reviews and parentbloggers who want free stuff but aren't getting any electronics magically sent to them without asking for it.

The current roster's full up right now, but I think I'm the only dad. Anyway, I've just put up my first review on daddy in a strange land, of our trip this past Saturday to Baby Loves Disco at the Knitting Factory-LA. Short version: we had a great time at this toddler dance party—baby-proofed nightclub, music that doesn't suck, snacks, toys in the chillout area, and a cash bar at 1 in the afternoon? What more could you ask for? [Besides that your usually danceaholic but now inexplicably shy daughter let you put her down on the dancefloor, that is.] Long version: see my review.