Show and Tell is wasted on elementary schoolers. Join several dozen bloggers weekly to show off an item, tell a story, and get the attention of the class. In other words, this is Show and Tell 2.0. Everyone is welcome to join, even if you have never posted before and just found out about Show and Tell for the first time today. So yank out a photo of the worst bridesmaid’s dress you ever wore and tell us the story; show off the homemade soup you cooked last night; or tell us all about the scarf you made for your first knitting project. Details on how to participate are located at the bottom of this post.

Let’s begin.

Right before we got sick, I was sitting with a friend at a birthday party when the ChickieNob walked up to us holding what just might be the most phallic thing I’ve ever seen including all penises.

“Someone gave my child a cock and balls,” I whispered to my friend as she approached.

“Look,” the ChickieNob exclaimed.  “It’s a sword!  A balloon sword.”

Is that what they’re calling it these days?

And despite my strong dislike of play weapons, my insistence that balloon swords have no place in a car, and why oh why couldn’t she have asked the clown for the nice balloon doggie that I saw other children holding, the balloon sword came home with us and now is shriveling up on itself like its post-coital equivalent.

What are you showing today?

Click here or scroll down to the bottom of this post if this is your first time joining along (Important: link to the permalink for the post, not the main url for your blog and use your blog’s name, not your name. Links not going to a Show and Tell post will be deleted). The list is open from now until late Friday night and a new one is posted every week.

Directions: answer the question in the comment section.  Then leave a comment on the blog of the commenter directly before you (so it’s a chain.  #2 comments on #1, #3 comments on #2, etc.  If the commenter above you didn’t leave an address, just go one above that.  The point is to find new blogs/leave a comment–not stress).  The first person who comments gets a free ride and does not need to leave any comments.  The last person who comments gets…screwed.  I will need to find something for the last commenter.

Please ignore the unnecessary “quotation marks” in the question.  Apparently, the makers of the Ungame are frightened that you’ll think they are speaking of spiders and earwigs.

Definitely keep talking about who, what, and where, but now we also need to tackle when, why and how.

When

People usually expect to see comments on a post within a few days of the post date.  Some people close comments on a post after a certain amount of time to deter spam.  But I leave my comments open indefinitely because I don’t think there’s an expiration date to a response.  I may not need support or accolades long after an event, but a post that is salon-like in nature never needs to have the conversation closed unless nothing new can be added.  If something new can be added, open that comment box and start talking.

Also, in this day and age of feed readers, people often allow posts to build up during busy periods or vacations.  They shouldn’t feel shy about catching up on old posts and commenting.

And that’s obviously an excuse because I allow posts to build up and then go back and leave comments when I have time to formulate good ones.  But I don’t think we should be shy about the fact that we have other things happening in our lives too and while we want to read blog posts, sometimes they get held over until we can concentrate and fully appreciate them.

The only time I don’t think this is helpful is when the comment is only meant to fan the flames in an argument taking place in the comment section.  Or if it’s beating a dead horse.  If the point has been made, there’s no point in leaving a late comment to make it again.  Especially because late comments are usually seen only by the author and not by the general community unless it is a particularly sticky post.

Why

People leave comments for a plethora of reasons:

1. You want to connect with the person and give them support or accolades.
2. You want to give your thoughts and respond to something in their post.
3. You want to build a relationship and have them come leave comments on your posts too.

I think if you’re coming from one of those three reasons, open the comment box.  I think if you’re coming to pick a fight, get free advertising for your product, make someone feel like crap, or drive traffic to another place, you might want to step away from the computer.  Because the fact is that comments can be deleted in one click and IP addresses can be blocked with a simple cut-and-paste, causing all that hard-crafted hatred to disappear into the ether of the blogosphere, wherever deleted comments go.

That was just my public service announcement for spammers and haters.

How

Leaving a great comment is an art, but anyone can leave a good comment.  And sometimes, in this day and age of fast-moving information, good is a solid place to be.  Here are my best tips:

Respond directly to the words on the screen

Especially when being critical, make sure you are looking at what the person is saying and then responding directly to their words.  Pull quotes from their post to make your point.  Too many times, comments argue points that aren’t there or that the commenter assumes the writer really means.  But if the comment clearly shows the blog writer that you haven’t read their words, it negates your own argument.

Keep on topic

Before you hit “post comment” ask yourself this question: are you writing to talk about yourself or to talk about the person?  It’s okay–even desirable–to tell a story that lets the other person know they’re not alone.  And to that, you sometimes need to talk about yourself.  But that is different than opening up someone else’s comment box solely to tell them about you, you, and you.  Make sure you bring even stories about yourself back to the point of addressing the original speaker and their thoughts and feelings.  If not, it’s like you just put a blog post about yourself on their blog.  Save it for your own.

Keep it simple

If it’s getting too complicated for a small comment box, consider writing a full blog post and then leaving a short comment linking to that post.  Make sure that you still address the original speaker.

Short is still good

Too many times, a person states that they didn’t comment because they couldn’t find the right words.  While not everyone agrees, my feeling is that a simple “I’m abiding with you” or “I’m thinking of you” or “Congratulations!” can go a long way in making the writer feel less alone.

Do you think there should be a timetable for commenting?  Is it ever too late to leave a comment on a post if you don’t close your comment box after a given amount of time?  Why do you comment?  Do you have another reason than the three I list?  What do you think about short comments that simply express sorrow or happiness for you?  What is some other advice you would offer on how to leave a good comment?

I am slowly emerging back into the world of the living, by which I mean that I am contemplating taking a shower and eating something more than a banana.  Since I don’t have the brain power to discuss the dafookness of TLC’s My Monkey Baby, I am instead turning this over to a discussion on commenting in honour of IComLeavWe.

I have often bitched that the almighty comment gets short shrift.  Posts win awards.  Posts get Kirtsy’d.  Posts are talked about and dissected and read aloud.  Posts get projects named after them and inspire Writer’s Block and make some sites millions of dollars (millions and billions and trillions of doll-ahs!).

But what does the comment get?

People complain that they don’t get enough comments or they wish they could have more comments or that they can’t think of anything to write in the comment section.  People delete comments.  We ball them up like garbage and toss them out sometimes.  And people use the beautiful comment box to spew hatred or shit on someone’s day or write about a! great! new! penis! enhancement! tool! you! should! know! about!

We took back the comment with IComLeavWe, and that’s a good first step.  But I think we need to write and think and speak about comment leaving much in the same way we write and think and speak about blog post construction.  Obviously I think that or I would write so fucking often about it (I know, some of you are rolling your eyes and saying, “great, Mel talks about commenting again.  I wish she’d get back to anagrams or return to vomiting up breakfast.”).

Where were we?

I think there are six main areas that need discussion and these correlate to the chief harbingers of questions: who, what, where, when, why, how?

I’m going to talk about the first three (who, what, where) in this post, and the last three (when, why, how) in the next post.  These are my thoughts on the topic, and I’d love to hear yours too (hey!  In the comment section!) because it’s a topic that deserves its own discussion.  Really.

Who

Some people are squeamish about commenting on a site if they haven’t commented before.  Or jumping into a discussion on adoption if they’re doing IVF.  Or comforting someone after a loss if the commenter has children.  And all these things are thoughtful ideas, but the flip side is that a lot of good thoughts then go unsaid (probably some terrible thoughts also go unsaid though).

The reality is that if people have a comment box open, they are welcoming feedback or support or accolades.  Comment boxes are easy to close–even on a post by post basis.  I do think it’s a good idea to hang back for a post or two if you don’t know the blog at all and get a sense of the author and his/her story before doling out advice or opinions.  But insofar as simply leaving a congratulations or an “I’m sorry”–those I don’t think require a special understanding of the author.

It’s thoughtful to try to save the other person hurt feelings from seeing support come from someone who is very much the polar opposite of the situation at hand (a parent comforting someone going through pregnancy loss, a newlywed comforting a widower, etc), but the answer is not to ignore the other person.  They just spilled their heart on the screen; it seems cruel to just click away.  The answer is to be simple, take the focus off of you (you don’t have to link to your blog with some commenting systems), and know that while few want to hear criticism from someone outside (or inside) the community when they’re processing something difficult, most would not be angry to receive unconditional support when it is worded simply and thoughtfully.  And those who don’t want comments at all tend to close their comment box on a post.

But those are my views, and they’re based in a belief that good thoughts often come from places where we least expect them.  Another Iffer is probably a great person to offer comfort after a failed cycle.  But there are also people outside the community who simply have empathy.  And some of the best advice I ever received and used to get through infertility had nothing to do with my reproductive organs.  I simply took dating advice or job advice and applied it to a different situation.

Everyone needs to have a first time commenting on a new blog and if we all hold back and wait for another person to comment first, we’ll never start the conversation.

What

What is pretty straightforward: it’s the definition of a comment.  I’d define the comment as a verbal hug.  A written head-nod.  Comments can be critical, when the criticism is used to address a point with the purpose of coming to new understanding.  In other words, just as you’d point out something in a person’s line of reasoning if you were having a conversation with them, you’d do so in the comment box.

What comments are not: bait to reel someone towards a different space, real estate on another person’s blog to talk about the commenter, or a hate speech receptacle (whether it is directed at the author or a larger group of people).

Where

Er…usually at the bottom of the post.  Sometimes at the top of the post.  A lack of comment box means that the writer probably doesn’t want to hear from other people.

Okay, now discuss.  Remember, I’m talking about commenting used right–not commenting used wrong.

Since where is pretty self-evident, start with what does commenting mean to you?  What are your thoughts on new commenters (if they do so thoughtfully) especially those outside your experience (for instance, someone commenting on an adoption post though they’re doing IUIs)?  What about long-time commenters leaving simple comfort on a post when their experience is far outside your own (in other words, a person with children leaving a comment on a IVF cancellation post)?  Do you ever close your comment box on a post?  Do you feel comfortable commenting on a new blog and what makes you feel like a comment is welcome vs. strangers keep out?

I don’t think we will come to a consensus, nor do I think that one philosophy should trump others.  But this is food for thought for how you guide commenting on your own blog in the future.  Consider posting what you need insofar as comments at the bottom of the post (“I’d love comfort, but no advice, please”) or closing comments from time to time.  I try to always listen to the wants of others (though I can’t help it if I’ve missed the request).  If a person says they hate seeing comments from people with kids, I don’t comment over there.  If they mention how much comments mean to them, I do my hardest to make sure that I leave one from time to time.

Of course, we are all cramped for time so this is not to make you feel guilty for not leaving more comments (seriously, I need to work on this too), but to talk about using the comment box better.

As for myself, I welcome new commenters and old commenters–both inside and outside my personal experience–because it’s through that back-and-forth that I always learn something new, see my own words in a different light, or gain insight into the way I’m seeing the world.  The advice I’ve gotten from the comment box is invaluable–better than any backyard fence.  The hurt I’ve also gotten from the comment box is fodder for a different post because this is where I want to talk about what we do right–how we use commenting to create an ongoing conversation.

We have become immobilized zombies.  I am writing this Thursday night.  Today we spent 45 minutes collectively contemplating a square foot of carpet.  We all just sat together staring at it.  Then we moved upstairs and collapsed into bed and watched three hours of Nascar.  We’ve never watched even three minutes of Nascar in the past.  This is what H1N1 does to you.

I wrote that Show and Tell post days ago, hence why it is coherent.  I’m writing this post in the haze of swine flu.  At first we thought we had a run-of-the-mill cold.  Because the beginning of swine flu feels a lot like the beginning of any flu.  It’s just the middle and ending that are so completely different.

I’ll say two things about it: it is terrible and the media has made it out to be something more scary than what it is.  If you don’t have an underlying medical condition, it is just like a very long, very intense flu.  I am writing this on one of the peaks–because it sort of goes in peaks and valleys.  You’ll be throwing up and shaking and then ten minutes later, feel somewhat fine.  And then go back to coughing and shivering an hour later.  So it feels like every peak is a little trick and I’m not sure when this is ever going to be over.

My two favourite gems that we’ve heard this week are “you’re so lucky to have gotten it at the same time” (um…are you not considering the fact that there is now no one capable to taking care of anyone else in this house at this moment?) and “at least you don’t have to worry about finding the H1N1 vaccine” (um…no…because we freakin’ have the disease that the vaccine was supposed to keep us from getting).

All of us have experienced it differently.  None of us are hungry and we all have fluctuating fevers and coughing.  But the Wolvog has become quiet and dazed.  All he wants to do is sleep or lie on his side and stare at the wall or fall asleep watching Nascar.  Josh has recovered the fastest, having it hard and fast in two days and then recovering enough to take care of everyone else.  The ChickieNob has been vomiting a lot but she is incredibly cheerful.  As in, she vomits up bile and then does a little ballet a few minutes later.

We were watching Nascar and she lazily called out, “I think the red car will win.  No, the yellow car.”  There was a pause, and then she shot up in bed and said, “oh my gosh!  Any car could win!”

And my silent thought was: “and any car could lose.”  I’ve googled it for a bit and haven’t been able to find anyone else writing about this symptom, so if you have googled H1N1 and depression and landed here, I’m glad I was honest about this so you know that you’re not alone (unless no one googles this and lands here and I really am alone).

This flu has made me feel incredibly sad.  Overwhelmingly sad.  And detached and anxious.  I stayed up all night on Wednesday with my mind racing through terrible ideas.  I am impatient and frustrated.  Some of it is tied to the exhaustion, but I have been exhausted before without this crushing sadness.  It’s not tied to anything.  It’s not like I’m worried about the twins because I think they’ll be fine in a few days.  I’m missing stuff and I’m down about that, but this is different.  I can’t explain it.  And I can feel it lifting a bit tonight as the flu lifts a bit, which makes me think that this is tied to the flu.

So I am not in Marlton, NJ tonight for the reading because I doubt anyone wants to be around me.

Thank you to my mummy for bringing us food and supplies.  I’m not sure what we would do without my parents.

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The clue for Blogger Bingo today: 10/23–a post that contains a photo of the blogger from any time (posted 8:59 a.m.)

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I don’t have the brain power to write long descriptions tonight, but I didn’t want to not put these out there.  I promise you, these posts are very good.  I read them during the week and I thought about them for a while after I closed them.  And you will not regret it (hopefully) if you click over to read them.

A+B, Waiting For C has a post about anonymity on the Internet.

Last American Girl Standing asks how did you feel going into your first IVF cycle and tells you how she feels.

The Baby Chase has a post about being pregnant after infertility.

And The Sun’ll Come Out Tomorrow, I Hope has a post about how she is pulling away from a friend.

I am going to go lie on the sofa and stare at the wall.  I will be back when I am in a better mood and I can talk with people without snapping.