When you have a child--even when you start to think about having a child--you commit yourself to the future.

It's all very well to be nihilistic and tormented when you only have to worry about yourself; but as soon as this other person is placed in your arms, who you don't even know yet, and a love greater than everyone else you've ever loved put together times ten explodes in your chest with the force of an apocalyptic bomb--there it is. The future is inescapable. It goes beyond your own death; you begin to envision this stranger in your arms as an adult one day holding their own new strangers in their arms. And what sort of world will surround them when they do? Making a good future matters even more than before.

Only, there are no books about how to choose this future from the Baby Safety SuperStore, no magazine articles about the Top Ten Ways to Get Your Baby's World Right by Next Tuesday, no FisherPrice gadgets that will lull you all safely to utopia, no bestselling DVD series guaranteed to increase your charge's chances for clear air or water.

We're not supposed to care about this. Activism and involvement are supposed to be the province of idealistic young people; by the time we arrive at motherhood (or are simply contemplating it) we are supposed to be resigned to a lifetime of compromise, with all the passion ground out of us, so that we can focus solely on acquiring the best parenting products. As if, with motherhood, our focus permanently contracts to a sphere no larger than five km square, with our offspring in the centre of it.

Here's the problem:

Most adults are, or will be, parents. The number of adults who have no children and are not interested in having children is not great enough to be the force for change our world needs. Moreover, they do not have the same motivation to care about the long-term future that we do. (I'm not saying they don't care; obviously they do; but their motivation for caring is not as intensely personal.) If parents--if mothers--don't get involved, then the work for a sane and healthy future will at the very least suffer greatly, and possibly fail. The future needs us. The people our kids will grow up to be in the future need us. Not only to change their butts and put them in decent clothing and educate them, but to make sure there is a point to all of this activity, to make for them a future worth living in.

I know from talking to many mothers that many of us share these concerns; but chances are, if you do, you feel alone. If striking up a conversation about ambivalence with a stranger at the playground is difficult, how much harder is it to use the opportunity to campaign for global climate change or the culture of fear? We are meant to be strangers to each other, connecting mostly through market-place transactions and conversations about market-place transactions. For the next year (and possibly longer), TheWholeMom is going to be one place where mothers can talk to each other about changing the world. In addition to our regular features, we are going to publish work about mothers who are making a difference, at whatever scale, on whatever issue, in the hopes that you will realize what good company you are in, and how much it is possible to accomplish with the limited time, financial and physical resources after days spent wrangling young people.

We are also changing our format a little (which you have undoubtedly noticed already): in order to accommodate more frequent updates, we look a little more like a blog and a little less like a magazine. This also enables us to publish an RSS feed so you can subscribe with your favourite viewer and be notified immediately of any updates.

We've unfortunately had to shut down the forums due to the overwhelming number of spam accounts sent our way every day; in their place, we've enabled comments, and we hope you'll use it to let us know what you think about our new direction, our new look and (as always) the fine pieces published here.

Andrea McDowell, Editor