• by Larry Dobrow , Featured Columnist, March 15, 2005

My take on Child magazine comes with one enormous caveat: As far as I know, I don't have kids yet. My child-rearing experience doesn't extend much beyond the lesson, learned the hard way, that my adorable niece and nephew are walking/crawling petri dishes for stuffed everythings. Thus the nuances of this or any other parenting title are likely beyond my limited comprehension.

That said, the April issue of Child doesn't exactly feel like the Rosetta stone to me. There are tips and ideas aplenty, plus exhaustive directions to more tips and ideas. Yet few feel like major revelations; most, in fact, seem somewhat remedial and/or designed to pick up where seminal parenting texts left off.

That's probably the best way for a magazine like Child to position itself editorially. Issues like the benefits of breast-feeding have been covered ad infinitum elsewhere. The mag's look at the best and worst states for child fitness, on the other hand, uncovers a glut of useful information. In surveying recess policies, the availability of playgrounds, and the number of fast-food restaurants, Child contributes something new and distinct to the fitness debate.

The same can't be said for the story on childhood obesity that follows it - as far as obvious advice goes, "pack a healthy lunch" ranks behind only "Cadbury Eggs are not a dairy product" - but overall, the fitness/nutrition focus works pretty well. Even if I'm philosophically opposed to the mini-section's final story, on how to raise a vegetarian child, it offers a range of tactics and recipes.

Less successful are some of the shorter items. I appreciate that Child's aim is to present a whole lotta information and let parents pick and choose from it as they will, but several of the front-of-the-book "Child Browser" stories come across as mildly alarmist. Is any parent really about to freeze his or her child's stuffed animals in order to rid them of dust mites or mold? I can hear it now: "But dad, Teddy Todd is indigenous to tropical climates!" Similarly, I imagine a dress rehearsal for a doctor's visit would intensify a child's anxiety, rather than diminish it.

I wasn't especially impressed by the "play on pastels" fashion spread, which makes its subjects resemble miniature versions of "Caddyshack" extras. But overall, Child looks terrific, with an array of eye-catching fonts and bright, airy photos. Even the blockier stories come with a host of sidebars and pulled-out facts, rendering them easily digestible.

Child's ad mix is also worth noting for its breadth. While child-focused ads comprise a majority of the pages, the April issue also boasts appearances by Sherwin-Williams, MBNA, Avia sneakers, and surprisingly, McDonald's (I don't think we need to discuss the irony of a McGriddle sandwich appearing in an issue ostensibly devoted to health and nutrition).

I wonder if this broad range of advertisers compromises the magazine's editorial objectivity at times. A spread on family-friendly cars, for instance, presents options but gives no recommendations, as if strenuously attempting not to piss anybody off. Lo and behold, a two-page ad for the new Chevy Uplander van, complete with a shot of a cartoon on the rear DVD player, immediately follows the story.

Let me end with an endorsement of sorts: when I do have kids - or when a bright-eyed tween shows up at my door with a note from his mom pinned on his chest - there's a chance I'll subscribe to Child. Even if it may not unlock the secrets of the parenting universe, it's colorful, broad-minded, and almost obscenely well intentioned. As a parent, I hope I can embody those same traits.