Immaculate Conception: Celebrating the First Anniversary of Our Blog Baby

Well, what the hell.  Our little blog baby is one year old today.  If someone had told me 365 days ago that we would be at this milestone I would have said “you’re one crazy son of a bitch.”  But here were are.  Nothing is as crazy as how this blog was conceived.

Helen and I live in different provinces.  With the wonder of technology we decided on, developed and launched this blog all through texting and emailing.  That’s right, not one phone call or live conversation.  No facetime.  Nothing.  We most definitely did not get physical or hear each other’s bodies talk.

If you're a cougar and don't get the Olivia Newton-John reference, shame on you. If you're a guy of any age and get the Olivia Newton-John reference, shame on you too

If you’re a cougar and don’t get the Olivia Newton-John reference, shame on you. If you’re a guy of any age and get the Olivia Newton-John reference, shame on you too

This baby was a birth made of divine proportions, based on a calling.  Or, was it a mad omnipotent mind that set us on this course?  The labour was less physical pain and more mental anguish as we reviewed each others opinions on layout and content.  I won’t even get started on the About section.  It all had to be just right and for the most part it was.  So what if the baby came out with a cone head.  What baby doesn’t?

Our blog name “Hey Beergut: Essays from the Cougar Den” was born from the soft, emotionally bruised and aging places from within Helen and I, peppered with a wee bit of anger and bitterness.  You see as women over forty in this western society, we feel like we get a pretty bad rap.  From boyfriends telling us that women over 40 are invisible, to women over 40 being judged and harshly criticized for dressing up, putting on some heels and makeup and hitting the town, it feels like we just can’t win.  Essentially we have to make a choice as to which one of only two camps to sit in.  Evidently the only reason a woman over 40 would ‘glam up’ is if she is desperate, divorced, gold-digging, hunting for younger men or pathetic.  We’re supposed to be washed up at 40 and dressing accordingly like proper working women or moms. Yet, middle aged men can get larger, greyer and flirtier and seldom do we bat an eye.  The middle aged beer gut hardly registers on the scale that is used to measure middle aged women on both our physical appearance and our behaviour.

So, after performing our earthly, womanly duty of physically delivering our wonderful children, Helen and I decided that it was time to mentally and emotionally birth this baby on the back burner.  The one who is judged and whose fate is decided on by society long before taking its first gasp of air.  The one who needs to stay unadorned less it draw attention to its ugly cone head and its desperate need for attention.  The one who is best heard but not seen.  We’ve opted to nurture this baby mostly with humour because truth be told, we 40+ women do laugh at the predicament we find ourselves in.  We do poke fun at our aging process and how shitty it is.  We also embrace the few good things about it.  I’d list them, but what they are escapes me right now.  Forgive my senior’s moment and I hope you understand.

Thanks to all our followers and visitors for joining us on this ride.  Strap in with us for this coming year.  We aim to shake it up a bit and of course, we look forward to hosting our second annual “like-in” on our national cougar holiday.  Yep, Valentine’s Day.  Rawr.

Push up bras and sensible shoes unite!

Denmother and Helen – the cougs

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