Uppercase Woman

Tuesday: All Over The Place Post

I should be working. Charlie was kind enough to take Tori to the soaking wet playground so I could get some work done, but here I am, blogging. Again. :)

First off, I need to confess that I truly do not know of what I speak in that video. What I MEANT to say and what I said are miles apart (I blame the lack of sleep; yeah, that's it) so please forgive me for being so dead wrong. Babies are NOT always horribly injured when they are delivered early. They can be, and I know I've seen photos of such, but it is not always that way. So I am so sorry for being inaccurate.

So that's that.

Also, I realized I left a major thing out of my write up for Tori's 26 month letter. In the last month or so she's been trying on various emotions, but her favorite by far is "scared." She pretends to be scared of things all the time. It cracks me up. She announces that she is scared, and comes running over to be cuddled and protected. Mostly she's scared of dinosaurs, which is apparently a problem in our house. We appear to be infested with dinosaurs. Which is hilarious.

I'm also coming to realize that a lot of my mood these last few days is related to the food I've been eating. I've been alternating between utter fucking crap (no, seriously--crap crap crap) and healthier food that includes vegetables. I think it's contributing to my mood swings.

The problem about making sure we always have good food comes down to one thing and one thing only: I do not want to prepare it. I go through phases; when I first quit my job to work from home I was making food all the time. It was awesome. But that lasted, like, three months and I went right back to not wanting to mix or chop or bake anything.

Sigh.

I need to change this, because when I go too long eating unhealthy food thoughts of gastric bypass begin to dance in my head (I am opposed to getting a bypass, for me. Mostly because I don't know anyone that has sustained the weight loss for more than five years. Well, maybe one person. Plus, you know how I am with things like surgery. I don't exactly do well. I don't want to be a statistic anymore). Did you know the reason bypass patients lose weight is because they can only ingest 500 calories  a day? Do you know what they would call that without bypass? Anorexia. I'm just saying.

So, anyway, I know what I need to do is create a menu plan and actually do some advance prep so that it doesn't seem so overwhelming. I've enlisted Charlie, so that I'm not doing it alone (hey! growth! I can't do it all myself! And I admit it!). So I could use y'all's help. :D

I need recipes and menu guidance. Here are my restrictions:

1. I do not own a crock pot, and I will probably never own a crock pot because Charlie thinks everything cooked in a crock pot is gross. Even stew. Yeah, really.

2. Charlie can't eat garlic or onions (he has bad reflux). I can, and love them both. Sigh.

3. Charlie mostly only likes chicken. Although he will eat Mexican flavored things (as long as they aren't too spicy, see reflux above. I love spicy).

4. Tori lives entirely on mac & cheese and chicken nuggets. With occasional apple slices and raisins. Things she will eat, however, if pressed: pizza and pasta, any kind.

5. Charlie doesn't like salads. I love them.

So. Um, help?

Monday Melancholy *edited*

Feh.

I'm not sure what's up with me today, but I have a major case of the blahs. I don't know why. I've been running on pure energy since I got home from BlogHer and doing a million things and I still have a million to do and suddenly I have hit a wall called FUCK IT.

Some of it is end-of-summer doldrums; we've got some oddly cool weather here already that feels very fall-like and makes me think summer is already over. Some of it is the fighting Charlie and I have been doing lately; it just feels like we are misfiring and not connecting at all some days. We've been working on it, but still. It blows.

I know I'm feeling overwhelmed about the election too. I also feel very, very frightened that Obama won't win and we'll be stuck with McCain. I know I should be writing posts about it; I want very much to write a post about how McCain doesn't deserve his "maverick" reputation, nor his moderate one (dudes, he is not even REMOTELY moderate--he's one of the strongest anti-choicers in the Senate). But again, FEH. I just can't seem to drum up the righteous indignation necessary for a good post. Maybe you guys can just take my word for it? Heh.

What the fuck. I hate days like this. I'm trailing off even on this post and not wanting to type more. I need some inspiration.

It's not all bad. Yesterday we had some seriously funky weather and were lucky enough to see a massive, full arch, double rainbow that lasted for over a half hour. It was Tori's first rainbow. It was incredible, and I loved it even though the rainbow was over a mall (my favorite rainbow of all time was seen from the top of a mountain, and it filled the valley so that we were level with the top of the arch). We had a lovely dinner out last night (a treat), just our family, and that was awesome too. I fell asleep in a good mood.

Maybe it's the Olympics? Seriously, I just cannot bring myself to care. Maybe it's the Russia/Georgia war. Maybe it's the fact that it's all just not that funny anymore. Sigh.

Charlie's having a hard time too. His birthday is on the 31st, and this year he turns 46, the age his father was when he died. It's making him extra angsty. This whole gettin' old thing sucks ass, you know? Sigh.

ARG.

I hate days like this. I probably should have just NOT posted. Because this post BLOWS. Will post again when brain has been shaken up and improved. :)

EDITED TO ADD:

Just finally found my iReport that I recorded at BlogHer. I don't really make that much sense toward the end there (I meant that mental distress would be inflicted on a mother forced to deliver a child, and I meant under 24 weeks too, not 30 weeks. Oh well). But here it is. Go record your own, and post a link in the comments!

Friday Again

Today Tori wanted to go for a walk and we ended walking to the next town over and going to a different playground than usual. Not too long after we got there a woman came in with her twin boys, boys about five months younger than Tori.

For just a second, as I watched the three of them play, I saw a very different life. One in which all three of my children were alive. The boys weren't the right age; Nicholas and Zachary would be older than Tori, of course. But still.

It was an awesome moment.

___________________________________

In more cheerful news, Charlie and I have convinced my mom to come babysit and are going to see a movie. Probably either Dark Knight (yes, we're the only folks in the world who haven't seen it) or Pineapple Express. Awesomeness.

I must go shower because I just realized I stink (which is actually unusual for me; must have been that weird ass detox drink I got at Whole Foods yesterday that tasted like crap and turned out to have .5% alcohol, which I realized AFTER I drank it. Grrrrr). But I'll leave you with this, a short video entry of Tori wearing the most awesome Pirate Princess dress she got from her Internet Auntie Leanna. This is my kind of princess. Please note the middle of the video where Tori says, "Arg!" like a pirate. Hee hee. Thank you Leanna! It is truly awesome.

Oh, one more thing: I always said there was something too slick about him. And now we know.

26 Months

My darling Tori Anne,

You are 26 months old today. You have danced your way into the terrible twos in a big, big way and continue to show me on a daily basis what a smart, funny, creative bundle of energy you are.

My favorite thing you've started doing this month is this crazy way you have of asking questions and then when we try to clarify your question you make it sound like the subject of your question was our idea all along. For instance, you'll come up to me and say, " Go ows-side?" and I'll say, "You want to go outside?" and you say, "OK!" Like, what a great idea, mom! Let's go outside! And now I've been tricked because I don't want to take you outside, I want to give you dinner, and when I say that it's time for dinner you look at me like I just broke a promise. I gotta warn you, kiddo--you were born to the absolute QUEEN of manipulation and your little tricks just aren't going to work on me. Heh. Like your new thing of fake crying when you don't get your way. It's so obviously bullshit, it's impossible to even get mad at you.

You've mastered the mean angry face too. I haven't gotten a picture of it yet, but every time you make it I have to work very hard to not laugh out loud--that would hurt your feelings, I imagine. But DAMN you are cute when you make that face.

You continue need at least two activities a day to really enjoy your day, so we still hit either a playgroup or your babysitter before nap time, and a walk or the pool or other event after that (although this week you've been fighting a summer cold so we've just hung out at home). So this month we've gone to all the local gardens, and we've taken you to concerts, and we've done lots, and lot, and lots of swimming.

You spend a lot of time in the car, and we are blessed among parents because you tolerate it beautifully. You happily read books, play with your toys, and watch your DVDs (currently, your favorite is The Looney Tunes, and it makes my heart unusually happy listening to that music coming from the back seat. As opposed to your Kipper DVD which makes me INSANE). When we have a long drive, you just hang out and enjoy the ride.

You've become a bit more affectionate these days, often patting my arm and hugging us without prompting and asking for cuddles a lot more. Nothing could make us happier. We love cuddling you more than anything. For some reason, though, I'm not allowed to play with your hair and that makes me so sad. Someday. Today before your nap you were putting your hand in your mouth, covering it in drool, and then rubbing my arm with the drool and saying, "Better?" It's totally worth having an arm covered in drool slime to watch you practice comforting.

The other big development that's come this month is how much you love to play pretend now. You feed your baby doll, you make your stuffed animals dance and take naps. You tell us "Shhh!" because your doll is sleeping. You pick up your cell phone (my old one) and say, "I calling Grandma!" and proceed to have lengthy conversations with her (although when you really talk on the phone to someone you still don't quite get it and act totally shocked each time you hear a voice on the receiver). You've become much more play independent, which is very helpful to your work-at-home parents. About two weeks ago I found one of those no-drip (supposedly) bottles of bubbles that features your boyfriend Diego and not only does this entertain you endlessly, but it also occupies the dog too. This means that you and the dog are now best friends and you often say, "Bubba! Bubbles!" and you two proceed to have a blast.

You language skills are rather astounding. At your (late) two-year-check up this month, the pediatrician asked if you were using two-word sentences and you proceeded to give her a two-minute lecture about the book you'd been reading while we waited (she noted this, wryly, stating that she guessed language development wasn't an issue). You've grasped big concepts like "home" and "later" this month too, and that's been pretty cool to watch. I can't get over how smart you are, although I'm sure every parent says this, but you are totally BRILLIANT. So there.

We're all getting better at being a family, and you are back to being a pretty easy child most of the time--as long as we take into account your boundless energy. You continue to be brave, and we're trying to nurture that; while I want all the ants in our kitchen to die, and to die NOW, you love to watch them and play with them and we let you because I want you to be a girl that is NOT afraid of bugs.

Tori, you continue to amaze and delight us. Astonish and overwhelm. We love you so much, and are so happy that you are here in our lives, even though it still feels, just a bit, that each time we put you to bed for the night that we've just won the war. I love you Tori, and think the world is just so much better with you in it.

Love, Mommy

Fighting

Charlie just headed off to hang out and watch freight trains for the day, which is good, because I worry that he doesn't get to do enough stuff that is fun for him. In fact, I worry about him all the time.

One of the things I don't write about here much is our relationship. Or our fights. I might occasionally mention how much of a bitch I am, or something like that--but I usually keep the meat, shall we say, of our fights private.

Lately, we've been going through a tough time. As the result of some of the work I'm doing on myself, I've been setting a lot of boundaries in our relationship, and Charlie feels like he's become a punching bag. I don't blame him--he rarely sets down boundaries (once, twelve years ago, he asked me not to make fun of his fear of camping in front of other people--a fear that he shed as soon as we actually, you know, camped).

But without working on it, our relationship becomes lopsided. I can become to controlling, pushy, and dominant and easily slide into a role where I "mother" Charlie rather than actually act like his wife and partner. Charlie wants to make me happy (which is lovely), but of course that means that he lets me run roughshod over him sometimes. This is something I hate about myself.

But when I pull back, and begin trying to change our relationship dynamic, a void is left. A void that makes both of us uncomfortable. Charlie will often leap into the void with behavior I find controlling, and, viola--I'm setting boundaries all over the place, Charlie is feeling like I'm using a cattle prod, and we are in a space that is uncomfortable and awkward.

This is where we are now.

I don't want to write about this, but we had a big fight last night and I'm feeling hungover. None of this stuff is actually relationship-threatening, but I can't think about much else. Hence, this post.

Charlie and I have been together nearly 16 years. I was 24 years old when we got together, he was 30. We've gone from being crazy, drinking poets to being what we are today. Charlie loves trains, history, and old clocks and radios. I love blogging and all the new technology. Sometimes, it can feel like we don't have all that much in common. Sometimes, this is hard for me. I miss my wild poet boyfriend some days, and I expect Charlie must miss the thinner, younger me that never suffered bouts of introspection and depression.

This is why marriage is hard.

Luckily, I remember what really matters. The sweet way Charlie strokes my back as I fall asleep at night. The way he laughs when I say something funny (he's normally the funny one, so when I can make him laugh, I love it). The look in his eyes when he looks at me when I wear a bit of makeup and my big hoop earrings. But more than all of that--above everything--is the deep and abiding love we share, and the fact that I cannot imagine my life without him.

Then there's how he is with Tori.

It's just a rough patch. I'll say that again so that I hear it; it's just a rough patch. We'll get through it.

________________________

Two quick sidenotes: The ALI panel from BlogHer (the infertility panel) is now available as a video here. You'll only see my right arm--I'm behind a post. At one point, you can see the back of Sarah's head (she's the one drinking a rock star while Military Mama is talking). Once again, I'm struck by how fucking fast I talk. And how grandiose I can be.

Secondly, BlogHer has opened up voting for where next year's conference will be! Please go vote. If you can't decide which city to vote for, well then--vote for Philly! It would be awesome to have the conference here, and I think they really need to have it on the East Coast for once (it's been San Francisco, Chicago, San Francisco so far). Vote here!

It Seems Only Fair

I'm sorry I didn't post today. Various annoying things (migraine and the weirdest cold I've had in a while--it comes, it goes, it comes again) kept me away from the computer. Since I did a side-by-side  of me and Tori, I thought I'd also do one of Charlie as well. Wasn't he cute?

Side by side of him and Tori:

And of course, all three of us:

Now, I must go to sleep. Promise a good post tomorrow. About something. I hope.

Messing With The Blog (and 100 things)

So you might notice little changes going on around here as I attempt to make my blog more "sticky." Meaning people will come and stay longer and come back again because of various little things. Sigh. I'm finding it somewhat annoying.

One of those things is the 100 Things About Me meme. Everyone says you should have it. I've avoided it like the plague, but, since I have nothing to write about today and am tired of getting really stupid marketing pitches from people I will go ahead and do it now. IF you actually bother to read it all, you will be rewarded with photos of me as a two-and-a-half year old and you can all marvel over how much Tori and I looked alike. And you can also wonder, as do I, where my giant nose came from because I used to have a very cute tiny nose, just like Tori (don't get me wrong--I love my nose. It's just weird).

100 Things About Me, the narcissistic blogger

1. I don't really like memes. Especially really fucking long ones, like this one.
2. I won't review your product, no matter how cool it is, if you don't bother to put my name in the email.
3. I love opera.
4. My love of opera is genetic, inherited from my maternal Grandfather.
5. My maternal grandfather's name was King. No, really.
6. I also love country music. Real, honest, country music. In other words, not any country music that is popular today (which I call either "bimbo country" or "if you frost your hair, you aren't really a macho country singer").
7. I also love folk music.
8. I also love classic rock. Including the bad stuff.
9. Like Journey.
10. I spent most of my childhood wanting to be a veterinarian.
11. I scared my mother by putting my hand down the throat of a choking dog when I was 8. I saved the dog.
12. My favorite toy for several years was a paper baby doll. When I lost the doll I cried bitterly for days, and when my mom bought me a new one, it was never the same and I never played with it.
13. I spent a great deal of my childhood alone.
14. I taught myself how to read before I was five.
15. Sesame Street, the Electric Company, and a grandmother who taught 1st grade helped me learn to read.
16. By five, I was able to read chapter books.
17. At six, I found school to be incredibly boring.
18. By ten, I quit bothering in school and just coasted, lost in my own head.
19. I read several books a week then.
20. I still read two or three books a week.
21. Plus about 200 blogs.
22. I'm kind of a speed reader.
23. When Sarah and I were first roommates, Sarah thought I only pretended to read books that fast. Sarah didn't actually like me very much. But now we're BFF.
24. Oh my god, I'm only at 24? Cheetos are my favorite food.
25. As a child, I even ate a friend's parrot's cheetos. They weren't very good.
26. In fact, I like all things artificially orange.
27. I love orange soda.
28. I love orange Popsicles.
29. I love mac and cheese. But only the orange kind.
30. I love orange sherbet.
31. I really, really hate this meme. Can I stop now?
32. My first pet was a german shepard named Hugo.
33. We put him down when I was 12 when he attacked the son of my mom's friend (who happens to be the woman I'm named after). I stopped the attack.
34. My name, Cecily, means blind. Isn't that AWESOME?
35. I love my name. Now.
36. When I was in elementary school, I was nicknamed Cricket by the girls at Girl Scout Camp (cause I read Cricket Magazine). I loved it.
37. In middle school, I "went" with a boy named Jeff. My friend Lisa went with a boy named Don. We saw, somewhere CJ + LD = Love and decided to call each other "CJ" and "LD".
38. No, really.
39. The summer I moved to Michigan, I met a boy named Jimbo at my uncle's place who I made call me CJ. He (and his mom) still call me CJ to this day, the rare times I hear from him.
40. If you are wondering how I watch so much TV and read so much, here's the secret: I read WHILE watching TV. Good shows I just read during the commercials.
41. I also read in bed before I fall asleep. I read about 80-100 pages an hour. I read for a least an hour before I fall asleep.
42. Also? I don't read anything anyone would call "literature". Mostly sci-fi and fantasy novels, many of which are classified as "young adult." Hey, some of the best fantasy novels are YA.
43. Whoo hoo! 43! My mom has brown eyes. Which surprises people.
44. It was my father who had these crazy big blue eyes. My sisters have them too. And so did my paternal grandmother.
45. My paternal grandparents stayed in touch with me throughout my childhood even though my father did not. I visited them every year in Carlsbad, NM.
46. My paternal grandmother had a huge pecan tree in their backyard. I was most impressed by this.
47. I am listening to opera while I type this. Earlier, I was listening to country music. The piece they are playing now is being sung by a soprano who has a voice like bells. It's an iTunes station.
48. I had my first taste of beer when I was six, when a bunch of us kids stole some mini-beers (do they still make those?) from the grown ups. I loved it right away.
49. I got drunk for the first time at my friend Stephanie's in 8th grade. I loved it right away.
50. I felt ten feet tall the first night I got drunk.
51. I'm really only 5'2".
52. No one ever thinks of me as short until they see me in person. Even then, they quickly forget.
53. I smoked pot for the first time when I was 13. It caused a massive drop in blood sugar and made me vomit a lot.
54. I didn't smoke pot again with any regularity until I was in my twenties, and then only because I had a pothead boyfriend. It still made me sick.
55. The first time I did a lot of cocaine I became obsessed with the coca-cola bottling factory and complained that they wouldn't give me a car (I was also very, very drunk). It also made my nose really stuffed up and I threatened to cut my nose off with a big kitchen knife. Charlie found this rather alarming and I then chased him around the house with the knife until he called 911.
56. I wasn't wearing any pants that night because I'd previously peed in them. And in my boots. I was still wearing no pants when the cops came.
57. I didn't do cocaine again for several years.
58. OK, maybe it was about a year.
59. Oops--that was actually the second time I did too much coke. The first time I slept with a guy named Jesse that I didn't actually like very much who was also the best friend of the guy I was dating that I did like. That went well.
60. Other than those few spotty drug episodes, most of my "gettin' high" career is around alcohol.
61. I drank pretty much every day from 13 to 27.
62. My severe drug use ran from about January of 1995 until December of 1995.
63. At first, it was just snorting coke with friends. That lasted until April of 1995.
64. Then I found out my roommates were snorting heroin. I was very angry.
65. And I was jealous.
66. In May of 1995, I snorted heroin for the first time. By June, I decided it was a lifestyle.
67. In July of 1995, I stole needles from the animal hospital I worked for and shot up for the first time with Sarah.
68. It got really, really crazy after that.
69. In December of 1995, on the 21st, I overdosed on IV cocaine.
70. I got sober the next day, and have stayed sober ever since. Sarah went into rehab about two months before that and is still sober as well.
71. October 19, 1996, Charlie and I got married.
72. We weren't sure if and when we'd have kids back then.
73. We'd already been together over three years when we got married.
74. We've now been together for over 15 years.
75. This means Charlie and I have been together since I was 24 years old.
76. Somehow, that seems crazy to me. 24 years old is so young! But I'd already lived three lifetimes by then.
77. I am grateful every single day that I am married to Charlie. Even when he drives me crazy.
78. ARG! Only 78? I hate this meme even more now.
79. When I first got sober, I got fake nails and painted them every single night. So I wouldn't think about using.
80. I think vampires are super hot.
81. I love reading urban contemporary vampire fiction. Even when it's classified as romance.
82. I tend to skip over the sex scenes, or read them very lightly when I read romance.
83. I don't know why, but after a while, the sex scenes all seem the same.
84. I also think werewolves are pretty sexy. All of the above applies to them as well.
85. I enjoy pornography occasionally. There is a marked shortage of vampire porn.
86. I am very sad that we are going to lose our babysitter in a few weeks, even though Tori will be in morning care after that.
87. I seem to still have a minor cold right now while I'm writing this. I only mention it because I am running out of things to say.
88. Good lord, this is the longest meme in history. I don't like it.
89. I love movies.
90. No, seriously, I really love movies. I would go, every day, by myself, quite happily and see everything that is put out.
91. Yes, even the horrible movies.
92. My favorite romantic movie of all time is True Romance.
93. Tied with Say Anything. Charlie, btw, is totally Lloyd Dobbler.
94. My favorite action/sci fi movie is Aliens.
95. I can't wait for Tori to be old enough to watch Aliens with me. Even if it's a remake with better effects. Although I'd miss Sigourney Weaver.
96. I'm almost done with this meme.
97. Sometimes I pick my nose. OK, I pick it a lot.
98. I am secretly irritated that everyone says my daughter looks just like my husband.
99. I worry that people say that just cause I'm so fat I've stopped looking like myself.
100. I want to lose about 100 pounds and see no chance of that happening anytime soon.

Yeah! Done. God, that was painful.

As promised, here are the photos!

Just to compare:

I see Charlie in there, but still. Damn she looks like me. :)

Friday Migraine Linky Links

I'm tired, my head hurts, but I still! must! blog! (Wow, BlogHer has really drilled into me, no?). Thought maybe I'd just share some of my favorite links today. Because THAT IS FASCINATING. Right?

1. This photographer led the panel at BlogHer about body image. I developed a big girl-crush on her (I have a thing for older women who shave their heads) and I ended up buying this book from her which is seriously raising my self-esteem because the women in the book are beautiful, and they look like me. I also really liked the fact that although she's clearly a feminist, she reminded us at the panel that it was not only girls that suffer body image issues. Classy.

2. Chilling article about trolls. To totally copy Sweetney (who tweeted the link, thanks), the guy pictured looks exactly like what you'd expect trolls to look like, no? Read all the way through. If you have a blog, this article is SCARY.

3. My friend Tracy has a new blog of her paintings that are currently showing and for sale. My entire downstairs has become a bit of a Tracy museum because I am THAT IN LOVE with her work. Every time she posts another photo of a painting I swear I actually drool.

4. Because of my renewed focus on my work, I am paying closer attention to things, such as the label Mommy Blogger. Even though I write a column about Mommy Blogging for Type-A Mom, I dislike the term. I mean, parenting is only about a quarter of what I write about but if anyone were to classify my blog they would say "Mommy Blogger!" It irks me. Yet, at the same time, I do believe that parenting in itself is inherently political and imperative, and so I let the mantle of that name rest awkwardly on my shoulders. Anyway, Shannon of Rocks In My Dryer blogs about the name Mommy Blogging.

5. I can't think of a fifth one cause I haven't had time to read blogs this week. All of the above links are from Twitter, (except for Tracy's). Because Twitter is sucking my soul right out of my body, and along with it, all of my time. So I'm going to close with video of Tori trying to catch a fly while proclaiming her love for Chuck E. Cheese (man, it was SUCH a mistake taking her there) and also a bit of dancing at last night's concert. Heh.

*Sheepish*

I love how wonderfully kind and gentle you all were in pointing out my incredible hypocrisy.

If Tori was a BOY going through a Princess phase, it would be all good. Progressive, even. Much like I remember the excitement in our commune when I was a kid when one of the boys asked for a doll. When we girls asked for a doll, we were dismissed. I almost made the same mistake.

Just for the record, Charlie and I did NOT express to Tori our "horror" about the princess thing. We react to those things just to ourselves, alone, later. We don't impinge on any personal exploration she wants to do unless it's dangerous (obviously).

We will, however, limit her exposure to the princesses that exemplify all of the issues I have until she is old enough to have a lengthy discussion about it. While there is nothing wrong with dressing up and being pretty, there is quite a bit wrong about dressing up and being pretty only to please someone male that is coming to rescue the princess.

......

I've been feeling good about this new direction I'm going with work, and that feeling was confirmed with an email I got this morning from someone trying to get me to review a book. The pitch was addressed: "Hey there blogger!"

Right there, I'm already annoyed. Is it that hard to insert my name? It goes on to say, "You write about family life." Really? I do? Wow, I'm so glad to know that because I wasn't SURE. Then it asks me to review a book about Las Vegas as a holiday destination for families. THEN it tells me that I could! If I was lucky! Win $200! The blogger that writes the MOST THOROUGH REVIEW of the book will win $200.

Oh. My. God. Not only are they asking for me to read and review and help them promote a book, they are going to RATE my review to determine if I "deserve" a reward. So they get free advertising, and free mention in a blog entry that will live forever on the Internet, and I "get" to compete for the prize! LUCKY FUCKING ME.

Seriously, PR and Marketing people. Is that the best you can offer? Forcing a poor intern to come up with the pitches for bloggers? Not only is she an intern, but according to the website of the company she's all of 16 years old. While I feel sorry for the girl--she's obviously been given a tough job with little if any guidance or support (at least not from someone that actually knows anything about bloggers).

I'm so glad to know that this company thinks so little of bloggers. And I feel a very badly for the intern who is probably getting a slew of irritated emails from bloggers right about now.

Note to companies: having a MySpace page does not make someone a social media expert.

........

On a different note, I was asked by Dawn, a blogger who is struggling to finish nursing school without ending up homeless with her two daughters if you all would consider donating to her college fund. I don't normally do this sort of thing, but she asked me a long time ago and I've known her for years so I know the ask is sincere. You'll find a paypal button on her site. Contribute if you like.

.........

Tori is forcing Charlie to pretend to sleep and then yelling "WAKE UP!" over and over again right now. Tori is also obsessed with her new no-drip Diego bubble dispenser. Tori is also mentioning, over and over, Chuck E. Cheese. Are all two-year-olds victims of obsessive compulsive disorder? And are they all this adorable?

Princesses and other gender issues

So, as Charlie so eloquently wrote about, a few days ago Tori donned her swimsuit cover up (a terry cloth striped dress thing) and twirled around and announced, "I'm a princess!"

We were horrified.

I have no idea where she got the notion of princess from. It's not that I'm anti-princess--well, OK. I am anti-princess. I do not want Tori to ever buy into the notion that she just needs to sit back and some MAN will come and rescue her from something. I hate that idea. My mom fought hard to keep that notion from settling with me (and I think she succeeded). I don't want Tori to descend into the whole princess ideal, so she doesn't see TV shows or movies that involve princesses and we don't read any books that involve princesses. When she's older and we can discuss the concepts and shortcomings of princesses we'll go ahead, and then maybe I'll introduce her to the super cool princesses that occur in my fantasy novels--women that are smart, strong leaders that can also kick ASS.

I find myself more and more strongly about protecting and nurturing the strong, smart, curious and athletic child that I see Tori becoming, and that makes me want to keep things from her that will tell her that she's a girl, and that because she's a girl a whole lot of people believe that she shouldn't do many of the things she loves.

Some will think I'm paranoid (and some will think I am judging them harshly because they love their princesses and love sharing them with their daughters, but I am not--this is for me, and my daughter only), but I'm a daughter of a feminist and a feminist myself, so I find sexism and enforced gender roles easy to spot among all the marketing that's done to children. I mean, every big box store has one or two toy aisles dedicated to girls and everything is PINK. Tori likes some pink things; but she also likes trains, and cars, and building things--items you will not find in the girl's toy section of a store--as well as the occasional tiara or fancy dress. I want Tori to feel comfortable embracing ALL aspects of her personality and her preferences.

I'm not sure why I would think we've come farther than this by now. It's clear we have not; just the other day an article about BlogHer--a conference featuring over 1,000 powerhouse women that sponsors were falling all over themselves trying to impress--was put in the Fashion & Style section of the New York Times. Worse, the conference was described in such condescending tones I wanted to scream (quote: " a corporate-sponsored Oprah-inflected version of a ’60s consciousness-raising group." Seriously? It wasn't even REMOTELY like that, but because there was a "lactation room" it's a hippy Oprah event. AAARRRRRGGGGGGG!). In case you are wondering, conferences that feature male bloggers? End up in either the business or technology section.

Gender roles are still being enforced all around us, every day. I want so much to protect my daughter from them, so she can grow to be comfortable in her own skin. Because if I've learned anything these 40 years I've been alive, it's that enforced roles cause nothing but self-hatred.

It was with this attitude in mind that I listened to a story on NPR about transgendered children not too long ago. The story features two different families with boys that they feel were identifying with "girl" toys rather than traditional boys toys. Now, it may well be that these children are truly transgendered--but that determination sprung from the idea that the children were playing with the "wrong" toys.

The two families featured in the NPR story take two different roads with their kids. One family sees a therapist that tries to force the child to identify only with his born gender; the other family allows their son to call himself a girl, grow his hair long, and wear girl's clothing--even at school. If Tori were like these kids, I would assuredly go along the route that the second family took--I would allow Tori to be whoever she wanted to be, even if that meant she identified as male (although I would probably not be comfortable with the relatively new practice of hormone suppression in children to prevent them from entering puberty until they are old enough to make a specific choice about gender; I wish I could find a link explaining this but I cannot. Basically, hormones are given so that the children do not develop secondary sex characteristics, such as an Adam's apples or wide hips and breasts. This way, if the child decides to have gender reassignment surgery, they appear more "natural" as their gender choice as adults). But I would only do that because I just don't believe that there are any appearances, behaviors, or attitudes that are gender specific.

I'll say that again; I do not believe that there are any specific behaviors, ways of dressing, or attitudes that are specifically male or female. I believe, quite firmly, that I would love my eyeliner as much as I do whether I was male or female. I also love fixing things and building things, regardless of my gender. And even though I am technically female, I still hate asking for directions when I'm lost and, oddly, Charlie--who is most assuredly male--doesn't mind asking for directions at all.

I often find myself wondering if we were less gender-focused with children as young as Tori, would there be fewer folks that identify as transgendered? If boys were allowed to just wear dresses sometimes, and girls were allowed to play with dump trucks, would those kids as adults feel so constricted by gender identity that they would undergo a fairly brutal series of surgeries to change that?

I don't know much about this, so I asked my friend Jon. When I met Jon, he identified as a woman--a butch lesbian, but a woman. Jon now identifies as masculine, pansexual, intersexed, guy (he explains that a bit here). This is what he has to say:

To me, transsexualism is about the body. Transgender is about gender role. If the body is fine, but the imposed role is wrong, then it's about the role... the gender assignment. The fact that people think that in order to be a woman, a person has to have certain parts, is pretty twisted... and, I think, a mentality which affects people in very negative ways. There's no reason that a woman should feel less of a woman if she loses a breast to cancer. There's no reason that a small penis should make a man feel less of a man. I think that people not being taught to separate sex from gender is something which does nothing but cause pain. To me, that surgery is recommended to men who enjoy lingerie, long hair, and getting their nails done is simply brutal... and it is sexist. Pink may be a feminine thing, but it is not a female thing.

I also really like what Jon said about the hormone suppression of transgendered children in one of our emails:

Aside from the fact that the "sex" hormones are responsible for more than just the "secondary sex characteristics" and so are needed as a person is growing, it would mean that the stereotyping and polarizing of both sex and gender would be supported, and I don't think that's the way to go. What is a woman supposed to look like? What is a man supposed to look like? Is it not more important to further educate people and to grow as a culture/society by supporting the truth, which is that sex, gender, and sexuality are all just stereotypes? That it's all a continuum?

I couldn't agree more with the last statement: that sex, gender, and sexuality are all on a continuum: some folks are attracted to just men, some both men and women, some just women. Some people identify with female gender stereotypes, some with male and female gender stereotypes, and some just male gender stereotypes. And, honestly, I think there are few of us that completely end up at either end of the spectrum.

I am very interested in what you think, but I think this could very easily be a place where the comments get ugly, so let's practice some basic kindness. Talk about your opinions only, without condemning others that disagree with you--OK?

Putting My Toe In (a post about work stuff) *UPDATED*

So, thanks to the lovely Leah that I met at BlogHer, tonight I am attending an event at an advertising agency all about social media. I'm not sure I should link to the website of the agency here, because while it might show them how many people read my site it will also show them how utterly and completely nervous I am about attending because they are SUPER COOL. They are so cool, in fact, that they don't even say what they do on their website (I had to Google them to determine that they were, in fact, an ad agency and not a public relations firm). The woman that Leah introduced me to at the agency and Leah herself have the coolest job titles ever: Leah is a "social media evangelist" and the other woman is a "community trailblazer." I had no idea such amazingly cool jobs existed.

I am still overwhelmed and startled by how much going to this conference has completely jazzed me about blogging and being a writer and everything surrounding it. Do you realize that I've posted twenty times in the last fourteen days? I haven't blogged this much since my IVF cycle. In fact, I didn't even blog that much back then.

I've spent the last four days immersed in learning all I can about social media and things like viral marketing (dudes, I know what astroturfing means!). Plus I've been doing my regular work, being a mom, and I even cleaned the bathroom. A little. I haven't felt so productive since I left my job at a community art center six years ago (by the way, my family and I are planning to attend this event at said art center on Thursday, so come check it out if you live nearby! I used to be in charge of setting up and running that event--it's way fun).

I'm really hoping I can channel some of the emotional energy I had at BlogHer tonight so that I can start down this path of a possible new source of work. While I may not be the social media expert some folks are, I do know this: I am a blogger who is a mom, and I am a public relations specialist, and I know that most companies approaching mommy blogger have NOT A CLUE how to reach us without pissing us off. I do. I know the right way to approach another blogger about reviewing a product, and it's not the "insert name here" approach. So we shall see.

Meanwhile, I am going to go take some medicine because woot! I am getting a cold. Of course. Then I have to go make some changes to my professional website (not the least of which is updating my resume). Then I have to shower and gussy up to go to this thing tonight. So much to do! So little time! And I am so happy about it!

Charlie is also getting some good news on the job front, which has been challenging for him lately. One of his freelance clients moved some of the work he did for them to the UK--without being kind enough to tell him, of course. People are so rude to freelancers, I tell ya. It's not that I blame them for moving the work--but they did it over a month ago and then ignored his emails asking what was going on. THAT was rude. So, if you know anyone looking for a book or journal editor, email Charlie and let him know. He just learned he might have some work coming down the pike, but not until January, and he could use some work now.

What else? Well, I haven't started working on my book proposal yet, but I did get solicited by someone for a possible anthology of essays about infertility. How cool is that? It made me a bit giddy. I need to have enough time to really sit and work on the proposal, and then send it out to a bunch of folks to review and make suggestions, and then revise it and work on it some more. I have no idea when such time will become available, but if it doesn't happen soon, I will make it happen. Maybe I'll go up to the mountain house and turn off the Internet there. Then I'd have some time. Heh.

Anyway, I'm really excited and happy these days. If this post bored you, I'm sorry--just know that I am happy. And that's a good thing, right?

*Totally forgot to mention: new post at Type-A Mom about whether or not Mommy Blogging is radical. Also, a post here where I gush endlessly about the awesomeness that is Dawn.*

Choosing Your Life

So, last night, thanks to Twitter (I forgot last night was the premier, but a tweet reminded me. Are you on Twitter? I am! It rocks! You'll find me as Cecilyk. I'm the same on Plurk, as of today. Warning--highly addictive), I was able to catch the season premier of Mad Men (are you watching Mad Men? I am! It rocks!). Seeing it again, with all its early 1960's elegance and suits and nice dresses and beautiful, beautiful smoking (it's been over ten years since I quit smoking, and this show makes it look SO GOOD) reminded me of a conversation Charlie and I had last season. (Are you happy I used so many parentheses  in this paragraph? I am! It rocks!).

Charlie is a huge fan of the show, in fact I think he likes it above all others currently airing. He loves the hats (he's a big fan of hats, and why not? He looks hot in a nice hat), he loves the skinny ties, he also loves the smoking. And the cars! Oh, how he loves the cars. And the drinking. In that longing, alcoholic kind of way, I do too. Charlie also often daydreams of living in that time and asked me, "Wouldn't it be cool to be living then?"

I was all, "FUCK NO."

Which totally surprised him. But he's looking at it completely from the point of view of being a man at that time. It was one of the WORST times to be a woman. Societal rules were incredibly constricting for women then. It was awful.

So Charlie asked me WHEN in time I would have liked to live as a woman. "Now," I said, "Or perhaps a hundred years from now when women have even more freedom." Again, he was surprised. It's not that I wouldn't mind going back in time to view history; it's just that I don't want to LIVE in it.

I want to live in a time when it would never, ever fucking occur to a man to create a sign that says, "Iron my shirt" and hold it up during a speech given by a woman presidential candidate. Hell, I want to live in a time when no one would even understand such a sign--both because no one will be ironing (for the love of God, please let there be a future without ironing) and because it would never, ever occur to someone that ironing is something that only women do.

That sounds like a good time for me to be alive. I'm happy to be alive now--trust me, this point in time has all my favorite people in it--but the future has got to be even better, right?

How about you? Would you choose to live in the past if you could?

Um, nevermind. Here's a different thing to get up in arms about.

Do you ever have one of those attacks of insecurity where you go, oh my god, is that person right? And then instead of just doing the smart thing and ignoring whatever they said you go ahead and write a post so that you can have fifty people tell you that you ARE a good mother and that person who said that thing was wrong?

No?

Well, I just did. Sorry. Ignore that last post. Heh.

Anyway, if you really want to be outraged, take a gander at THIS. Apparently, nothing is sacred. I am so fucking offended I can't even TELL YOU. Fuck you, MTV. FUCK MTV. Thanks to Fashion Paramedic for the heads up.

Cursing

So, I just got the MOST interesting comment (and yes, I'm being sarcastic, but I think it raises some interesting points and I'm curious what everyone else thinks.

Molly (who of course left no email, has never commented here before, and has visited a total of three times for a total of 12 minutes and 47 seconds, and yes, Molly, I can tell--I also know what city you live in) says:

Just my thoughts, but did you ever stop to think that the way you talk to your child and the curse words you use can injure you child just as badly as a physical slap? Don't get me wrong, I don't agree with the violence you describe, but you are an educated woman, surely you can find better word choices than the violence you spew from your mouth. I'm sure Tori has heard it, that kind of language is filthy and leaves those in the wake of it feeling dirty and ashamed. Don't let the kettle call the pot black. In other words you are no example of prime motherhood.

First of all: I never, ever, EVER curse at Tori. I want to be VERY clear about that. I have never once admonished her with curse words, nor do I ever plan to.

However, yes, I have cursed in front of her. No, I do not feel like I am causing her any harm, and considering how frequently she parrots us she has only said a swear word once or twice herself (both times it was "shit" and yes, she used it in context).

Being told that I am spewing "violence" from my mouth when I swear seems, to me, a bit harsh. I think you can hurt a child with words considerably without EVER swearing. Statements such as some of my commenters mentioned like, "You're worthless" or "You're stupid" or "You're ugly" can cause far more harm than me calling a driver that cut me off in traffic a "fucking idiot" in front of my daughter. I also think it's patently unfair for Molly to insinuate that I am abusing my daughter by swearing on my blog.

As for whether or not I am a "prime example of motherhood," well. Have I ever claimed to be? I do know this; I love my daughter beyond reason, and I treat her as if she is the most valuable thing in the world. Which she is.

As Tori gets older, there is no doubt that Charlie and I are swearing less in front of her. But in my blog, I have a long, long time where I get to continue to "speak" in my natural voice, and yes, that means swearing. Tori is TWO. She does NOT read my blog. She does NOT surf the web. I mean, COME ON.

Sigh.

I don't usually grant a commenter that says something I dislike so much space, but I'm interested in others opinions. I know there are many of you that don't like my swearing, but manage to see through it to my heart. Do you think the use of "bad" language injures children? I don't think so; I think words are words and are not bad or good. I think people are bad/good (you know, words don't hurt people, people hurt people). But that is me. What do you think?

And when stating your opinion, let's not attack Molly. She might not have phrased it well, but I think her heart is in a good (albeit judge mental) place. Let's try not to attack me either, m'kay? Just state your feelings and leave out others. :)

Depressing Things (Warning: I get judgemental in this post)

So we've just spent a crazy 18 hours trying desperately to entertain the insane toddler that has taken over the body of my daughter Tori (or as Charlie likes to call her, the angry general). Yesterday afternoon we took her to a fancy ass playground, which was hot, and today to our local aquarium, which was a complete motherfucking nightmare. What the hell was I thinking? Oh, right--we had a 50% off coupon. Sigh. So did, apparently, EVERYONE ELSE IN THE FUCKING UNIVERSE.

Ultimately, it was fun. And Tori of course LOVED IT. But one thing I noticed was HOLY CRAP do other people hit their children a lot. I don't want to judge other parents, but (allow me to go ahead and judge other parents) I have to wonder what is UP with that. The worst part is that each time I witnessed a child hit today it just seemed so fucking arbitrary.

A while back a woman slapped her child's face because the child said to me, "You're fat!" I remember the child glaring at me afterwords like, geez, lady, if you hadn't been so fucking fat I wouldn't have gotten hit. It was horrible. Not only did the poor girl get slapped, but she also learned an important life lesson: that "fat" is a BAD WORD (I prefer to view it as being no different than "short" or "tall" or, of course, "thin." It's merely descriptive). I mean, did the mother think that it was NEWS to me that I was fat? Cause honestly, I ALREADY FUCKING KNEW.

But at least the cause and effect was clear for the hitting. Today I witnessed four different kids get smacked--on the head (two), the arm, and the rear end--just for looking at things on the wrong side of the hallway. Instead of looking at the fish on the left, they looked at the fish on the right. Apparently, their parents wanted them to look at different fish. IT'S A MOTHERFUCKING AQUARIUM. ALL THEY HAVE IS FISH.

It really freaked me out. I don't worry so much about people yelling at their kids; I had someone who had a mother that was a yeller explain to me that it was just part of his culture, that all the women yelled, and it was how the kids knew their mothers cared. I don't get it, but I no longer worry about it. But the hitting? I really don't understand.

I think part of it is rooted in fear; I mean, Tori was all over the place today too and it was so crowded that sometimes it got a bit scary (and makes me long for a child that would willingly get into her ritzy ass stroller). Part of it is rooted in resentment and entitlement, perhaps: No, I want to look at these fish here therefore you must look at them too. I know it's also passed down--chances are, every hitting parent was a child that was hit.

But it doesn't have to be that way. Charlie's mom was a hitter, and he would never dream of hitting Tori. In fact at lunch today, when we were discussing this, he said he hadn't noticed the hitting because none of the parents wound up for the punch or slap like his mom did; so he remained unfazed. If Charlie is any example, this is a practice that could easily be phased out of our society.

(I'm not, by the way, lumping into this group of parents I'm judging so horribly the parent that does the occasional spanking. I understand the smack on the ass a kid gets when he or she has done something dangerous--I might not do it, but I understand it. I find that hitting a kid in the head or face, though, really distressing--until the teenage years. I called my mom a bitch when I was 15 and she slapped me and I well deserved it).

Anyway, to make things worse, when we got home we were greeted by the police. Apparently, our old pal Fred (you know, the homeless drug addict Charlie and I have been trying to help get clean for the last nine months) has been in trouble again. After he got kicked out of the church for the last time a few months ago, we bought him a YMCA membership so that he would at least be able to shower. Well, apparently, the idiot broke in to the YMCA and stole their cash box--and he was filmed doing it. And, with typical addict arrogance and stupidity, he returned to the YMCA for a shower two days later. The entire staff--having viewed the robbery tape--knew it was him and called the police.

Sigh.

Sometimes humanity is just so. fucking. awful.

Sigh.

Anyway. I can't end this post this way. So here's a rare shot of Tori full-on smiling (these days when you ask her to smile she grimaces and squeezes her eyes shut). More photos will be at my Flickr account shortly.

So, THIS will REALLY be the last post about you-know-what (oh, and I talk about God too)

This morning at my recovery meeting (the one I oh-so-reluctantly dragged my ass out of bed for) the topic was, as it often is, God. But not like the usual, "God is AWESOME and that's why I'm sober/sane/no longer codependent" (really depends what flavor of meeting I go to which of those things God is credited for). No, here they were discussing how a belief in a higher power can give you back the peace of mind you lost by practicing whatever behavior you are attending the meeting for.

OK, I'm going to pause for a moment to try to explain my vagueness. If I were still anonymous on this blog like I was back in the very beginning--before the press started asking for my real name (OK, two reporters asked; I'm not THAT famous)--I could be super specific about what kind of meetings I go to and what we talk about. But since you all know I live in Philadelphia, and my name is Cecily, and I'm not the local weather forecaster by the same name, it would take about two seconds on Google to find my address. The address half of you have already because you've sent gifts to Tori (and me). So because I am NOT anonymous here, I have to be vague about my recovery because while there aren't any "rules" per say, there are certain--oh, let's call them traditions--that I need to honor. And one of them is not mentioning by name the organizations (I go to more than one!) that help me stay sane and sober. Admittedly, the line is painfully thin, but it's one I try hard not to cross (and I ask you not to do so in the comments either; I've edited a couple of comments in the past--with the writer's permission--for just that reason. Also, I do NOT have to be vague in private emails as that is between two individuals).

So, anyway, I was listening to the speaker this morning while feeling all my usual feelings about God (you know, how God's an asshole, that sort of thing). The speaker is someone I like because she reminds me of, well, me--she has to fight her instincts to take over and be in charge of everything. But I didn't know that she is also a holocaust survivor. When I think about how easily my faith in God was shattered by losing the twins, fuck--I've got NOTHING on the faith-shaking that a holocaust survivor must suffer. As she talked about how she's managed to come back to God--trusting that God will take care of her addict son, and that she can't--I found myself thinking about how much more open I am to having God in my life than I was three years ago. While both infertility and pregnancy loss may have turned me away from God, I am more willing then ever to turn to a higher power today.

How does this relate to BlogHer? Well, I don't think I realized this until I heard this woman speaking today, but I did a classic "giving it to God" step before getting on the plane. I managed to leave several things at home that I didn't need to bring to BlogHer: my insecurities, my self-centered fear, my combativeness and defensiveness, and most of all, my jabbering fucking mouth and it's remarkable ability to lead me down the road of self-sabotage.

Before I left, I said to both Charlie and Sarah that no matter what, I did NOT want to come back from the BlogHer convention as the "one" who said that "thing" that everyone is blogging about. Put me in a room of women--women thinner than I am, prettier than I am, better writers than I am--and toss in a bunch of those women drinking alcohol while I can't and just like that, you have a recipe for angry, defensive Cecily. The Cecily that makes "hilarious" viscous and snarky comments to--and about--other people. I so much wanted to work on practicing "restraint of pen and tongue" while I was there. Because I can be a damn fool, people, and I can torpedo my own goals without breaking a sweat (ask me sometime about the wonderful blogger who's feelings I hurt back in 2004 and stopped talking to me. I still miss emailing her, thanks to my stupidity at the time. And my pain. But mostly my stupidity).

As a result, I was able to spot Stephanie Klein (the other closing keynote speaker besides Dooce) and say hello, engage her in conversation, and LISTEN to what she had to say to me (OK, Sarah spotted her, but I did the rest). Because she talked to me about staying open--not reaching toward things so much as letting them find you--I was able to hear what folks were saying during the panels and glean a possible new career path. I got to meet Stephanie as she is--a funny, irreverent mom of twins that has dealt with some serious shit (how she survived her son's brain surgery is beyond me) and not spend the whole time thinking stupid things like "she's so famous, why is she talking to me?" and "Oh my God, they're making a TV show out of her book that came out of her blog" and "damn, her hair is awesome, I'm so jealous" (OK, maybe I did think that one). We were able to just talk about mothering, and writing, and how nerve wracking new people and gatherings like BlogHer can be. AND she was sweet to Sarah about photography too. AND SHE'S TOTALLY FUCKING SUPER FAMOUS!

I don't want to admit it, but it's because of a higher power that I got jack shit out of this conference, never mind the treasure trove of awesomeness that I did (yeah, BlogHer folks--I just called the conference a TREASURE TROVE OF AWESOMENESS because I am that good with words). Even though I still don't trust God particularly, I am at least able to set aside my resentment against God long even to use the spiritual tools I've learned in recovery and take what I need from an event like BlogHer and leave the rest.

So what did I gain by leaving all that shit behind? Well, I didn't spend a whole lot of time feeling bad about the parties I didn't get invited to (I know they were happening, because people would mention them all the time but then get vague on the "where" and "when"; special thanks to The Bloggess who mentioned just that thing in her blog before the conference). I was able to sit at the Friday night keynote and actually listen to all the readers without feeling like I should have been on the stage (oh yes, I AM that kind of asshole); and I'm so grateful about that because I have a new blogging hero; Lesbian Dad read this piece during that keynote and it made me weep--not just because of the content but because it's such damned fine writing (further proof to me that the best memoir writing in the world is happening right now in blogs, damn it). I was able to walk up to people like Alice and hand them a napkin and introduce myself, without worrying a lot about rejection (almost every single person I met was generous to a fault; there is only one blogger that was rude to me and I think she was just tired and NO I will NOT tell you who because I am becoming a better person, one that does not gossip--much). I was able to meet Amy and be shocked that not only was she nice, but she was excited to see ME--and even better, I was able to not gloat too much about that fact (OK, maybe just a little, but only to Sarah).

In other words, by only the grace of something bigger than me, I was able to NOT BE AN ASSHOLE AND ENJOY MYSELF. And you may think that's not unusual, but seriously? It totally is.

Many of you asked about the final keynote with Dooce and Stephanie Klein. It was highly entertaining--the theme was "Living the Truman Show" and they both talked about what it's like to live life so publicly on the web. Dooce mentioned that she only blogs about 10% of her life, which surprises me because I don't think that was true when I first started reading her blog five years ago. But I understand why--she gets death threats constantly, threats to her family, her dogs, her home--I can't imagine. I'd want to retreat a bit too. I didn't hear everything said because I ended up explaining to about half our table who "this Dooce person" was (yes, there are bloggers that have never read her blog--weird, huh?) and then who "this Stephanie person" was. They really had no idea. Eventually they started google-ing and I was able to listen. For a long, long time the person wielding the audience mic was standing right next to me and I tried, desperately, to come up with something to say. But everything I thought of was all "look at me and read my blog and please for the love of fucking God LINK TO ME SO I GET FAMOUS" so, after wise council from Sarah, I kept my mouth SHUT. NOT THAT THE OTHER BLOGGERS ASKING QUESTIONS WERE SAYING THAT. It's just what would have come out of MY mouth.

There was a kerfuffle that was a bit odd on all counts. I don't want to write about it because I felt about it one way initially and now feel completely differently (my discomfort with people who are or appear drunk because of my own alcoholism colored my initial impression; I'm not claiming anyone ELSE is a drunk, just that I am. Why it makes me uncomfortable, I don't know--it's not like I can "catch" alcoholism, a disease I already fucking have). If you want to read a fair approximation of my feelings about it (although I'm not quite as hard on Dooce as she is), check out Gwendomama (who was totally awesome all weekend rocking the microphone at the panels and was super sweet to me and OH MY GOD I can't believe she's able to do all that after losing a 13-month-old son).

All in all, that weirdness was NOTHING compared to the bizarre and moderately sexist closing reception which was held at MACY'S. Seriously. Like, hey! You're women! You'll buy ridiculously expensive ugly bags/shoes/lingerie just because we shove you wall-to-wall in those departments and get you drunk (the first floor--bags--also offered NO non-alcoholic alternatives. The fermented lemonade they offered was BOOZY. I was mad about that for two hours because I was SO FUCKING THIRSTY). That party, my friends, was truly bizarre. Blessedly, the final portion of the party was in the furniture section so that we finally got to sit the fuck down. Proof of me doing just that is in the final photo on I Am Bossy's entry about the party (thanks, Sheri, for the heads up about the photo).

But moving away from the final keynote, and back to what I was talking about (me! I was talking about me!), I guess what I'm saying is that with each passing day since I lost the boys, I'm finding it easier and easier to be at peace with God. I may never trust God directly, but I do trust the people that the universe puts in my path. And those folks have taught me more about setting the bad stuff aside and plunging forward than I ever dreamed possible. Because of that grace, BlogHer was wonderful for me. Because of that openness, I feel much less scared about the future. Because of that love, I was able to feel joy and happiness throughout. What more could a person ask for?

So, Cecily, what was the down side?

I promise this is my LAST BlogHer post. But several folks have asked me if there were any problems with the conference, and I have to admit that there were some issues. Mostly minor, but still.

First and foremost; what the FUCK with the name tags? Blog names were SO TINY on the name tags that you had to bury your face in another woman's breasts to be able to find out her blog name. And since so many folks go by pseudonyms, having real names on the tags was utterly unhelpful. I'd prefer big and bold blog names and smaller real/pseudonyms. In fact, maybe we should all be able to have a screen shot of our blogs as a name tag--that would have been MUCH better, since I'm so visually cued to blogs.

Secondly--again, a personal rant--why did they have to schedule THREE panels at the same time that I desperately wanted to go to? On Saturday afternoon the Infertility panel (or ALI panel-- adoption/loss/infertility) was at the same time as the "Blog-To-Book" panel AND the "Blogging As A Healing force" panel. Personally, I can see right away that there is a HUGE FUCKING CHANCE that the ALI community might also want to attend the "Blogging As A Healing Force" panel, but what do I know?

Thirdly--and this is the last personal rant, I swear--why on EARTH were the cocktail parties all at 6pm, IMMEDIATELY following the day's keynote? At first I thought they scheduled it that way to allow women with children there to attend, but the first party was at a club with music so deafeningly loud there was no way kids would survive (there were a couple kiddos there, one trying hard to dance, but still--not kid friendly). I would have vastly preferred an hour to go freshen up or relax, or maybe two hours to grab dinner with some friends I met and also, you know, see San Francisco. I appreciate the fact that they fed us at the event (remarkably good food too, I admit), but I really would have preferred a break.

In case someone from BlogHer reads this, I do think you guys did an AWESOME job overall. The only reason I feel comfortable nitpicking like this is because I have thrown a similar conference here in Philadelphia, only everyone that attended was a recovering drunk (you might think that means they would be better behaved, but I assure you, it does NOT). It takes a huge amount of work to pull together an event like this, and the BlogHer ladies did it very well. All of the issues above are relatively small, truth be told.

The bigger issues? Well, the event does not engage or welcome, particularly, women without children. The sponsors were almost universally geared toward mothers, the events were very mom-centric, and if you are someone that would rather not see nursing babies everywhere it was NOT the conference for you (personally, I loved that--one of my favorite moments still is the woman that posed a question to a panel with a microphone in one hand and a nursing baby in the other). Women both not ready or interested in having children and those suffering from infertility felt very pummeled by the mommy-ness of it all. For an infertile woman, it would have been like being inside a 1,200 member baby shower--with commercials. Not good.

I also really take issue with the idea that it has to remain a San Francisco conference. I spoke briefly with Jory, one of the founders of BlogHer, and she said they planned to keep it in San Francisco so that they don't have to "re-invent the wheel" every year. She also mentioned the fact that they have mini-conferences around the country (next one is in DC in October--I plan to go!), and have the BlogHer business conferences as well.

But as someone who lives nearly as far away from San Francisco as one can and still be in the United States, I have to say, fuck. It costs a LOT to get to San Francisco. Additionally, out of the 96 hours I was gone, about 20 of them involved travel-time. That is a hell of a lot. I'm already hoping that the whole family can go next year and make it more of a vacation so that the travel time doesn't hurt so much. But I have to imagine there are a whole slew of folks that would happily attend if it were closer to home, right?

Anyway, all in all, these are not big deals. I'm sure I'll go again, regardless of those issues. It is way too worth it overall. :)

Lastly, my final photos: first up is me and Mo Pie of Big Fat Deal. I seriously covet her boobs in this dress (and I promise, Mo, that is the LAST TIME I will mention your boobs).

This is me and Jenny the Bloggess. I have no idea why we weren't looking at the camera. You may have heard some things in other blogs about Jenny. All I'll say is that she is DAMNED FUNNY.

Lastly, one impression of San Francisco I received in my four-block tour of the area (walking between hotels) is that they have the funniest and most honest homeless I've ever seen. As a recovering alcoholic, I particularly loved this guy:

And that, my friends, is my final BlogHer post. What the hell should I write about now? :)

BlogHer '08: The Still-Too-Tired Initial Recap

I have so much I want to write about this weekend. First off, weekend? Maybe it was the whole not-sleeping thing, but I feel like this event lasted for five or six days, not just two. There were so many amazing moments, and so many great people. I think I'm going to publish a list of everyone I met at BlogHer at some point, you know, when I have time. I want to review every single blog and send emails to every single person in the two-inch high pile of business cards I have to go through. My bloglines account is going to catch fire, I think.

The best news is that I actually got much, much more than I could have possibly hoped for out of the weekend.

No matter how small your blog is, BlogHer has something to offer you. I cannot describe the energy and atmosphere of the convention without sounding like a smitten teenager; it was unbelievable. There was just something about being surrounded by so many women, and so many people who live part of their life on the internet. Do you know how awesome it was to never have to apologize for opening my laptop and starting to type while talking to someone? I didn't realize that at home I'm always saying sorry for cracking open the laptop to check my email.

I've also never been to a convention that had tables at every panel presentation so that you could type while listening. I never intended to live blog the events, but since I could, it seemed so natural. Plus, I was so dizzy and giddy with excitement that I couldn't WAIT to share it all with you.

Amazing things have come out of this convention for me. All of them surprised me, and were totally different than what I thought I was going for. Maybe I need to tell you what I hoped to get before I share with you what I actually got; I was expecting to schmooze the bigwigs, try to find ways to get them to link to my blog, and also meet and greet those that want to hire bloggers to write for them. I thought I might also meet some folks in the book publishing industry to put out feelers about how I want to write a book (as if there weren't 1,200 other bloggers there all wishing for the same thing).

But what I got was totally different.

First off, I got totally re-inspired about blogging itself. I'm not sure I even knew that I was perhaps a bit burned out. I know that I often feel tired and overwhelmed about needing to post, and sometimes just want to go about my day without considering how it would translate into an entry. But going to BlogHer reminded me of what--for me--is one of the major reasons I blog. Sure, I do it for myself, to have an outlet for my thoughts and to purge my demons. But I also do it because people read it and tell me that what I have to say matters to them. And while 10,000 emails can sure make me feel good, having a reader greet me and give me a great big hug and tell me that I inspired them to start blogging too? THAT is awesome. Meeting people that read my blog made my heart sing, and made it just feel more fucking real (if that makes any sense). I'm not just a blogger; I'm part of a community of bloggers and readers. I am not alone.

Secondly, I got a new career idea. I briefly mentioned it while I was live-blogging the Commercial Momosphere panel; it came from listening to bloggers and publicity people talking there. Basically, bloggers complain that publicity people send them generic emails (one panelist described it as "insert name here") asking them to review their products. I've gotten them too (but not as many as some, apparently). Publicists claim that they try, and that they in fact do have people that spend the day reading blogs and helping to craft pitches. A light bulb went off for me then; I have ten plus years of public relations experience; maybe I should stop trying to get paid to WRITE a blog and instead get paid to READ them and use my PR past experience to help reach out to bloggers. It can't hurt that I'm already familiar with them, eh? I have some folks to contact, and some work to do, but I might be able to do something along the lines of becoming a blogger consultant. AWESOME. Feel free to steal the idea. I know I would.

Thirdly, I'm not sure if it was the energy of the place or what, but the thing that has held me back from writing a book has always been that I didn't know what exactly I would write. Well, I do now. I have an idea, a title, and know exactly how to start the first chapter. I know, I can't believe it either. I'm going to try to put that together, then put together a proposal, and then start trying to find an (gulp) agent. Any agents reading? Heh. I'm going to keep the details to myself for now, because I don't want to spill the beans, but I'm very fucking excited.

Lastly, I learned something I didn't expect. I learned that I do NOT want to become a famous blogger.

One of the biggest joys for me at the convention was some of the unexpected moments. For instance, I ended up talking for over an hour with this young woman (who had, I believe, the cutest baby at the convention--although that would be a tall order, there was some DAMN cute babies there). Her story is fascinating and compelling (I won't go into it here; a lot of what we talked about is not in her blog yet and is not my story to tell, but suffice it to say that I'd suggest you keep an eye on her blog). She made me cry, and even more amazing, riveted me to my seat so completely that I totally forgot that I desperately needed to pee when we first started talking.

We had an incredible intimate conversation. Also? She doesn't know me, or know my blog. She had no idea who I was. We talked just as women, as mothers, and as folks on different spots on the infertility spectrum. We built a little bridge between us in a quiet corner.

I watched the more well-known bloggers at this convention. I watched them stay to the sidelines with their friends, trying to have conversations, and constantly get interrupted by fans. I watched Heather of Dooce choose to stay at a different hotel completely so as to avoid the mob (I only know this because she was at our hotel and Sarah--the lucky bitch--met her and her husband in the elevator). I don't think any of them got to experience the giddy joy of just walking around talking to strangers freely. And frankly? That would SUCK.

I don't want to assume I know anything about Heather's true inner personal life--and I shouldn't, judging by what she said when she spoke at Saturday's keynote panel. But if she's anything like me, it's got to be very weird and awkward and strange to have so many people be so fucking sure that they KNOW her. To have so many people want to touch her, to hug her, and to tell her they love her. I mean, I have no where near the level of fame she does, and it felt weird to me when the dozen-or-so strangers that came up to me at the convention did that (by strangers, I mean that they neither comment nor email me, so I had no idea who they were). I've read her blog for almost five years, and I've watched her become more private over that time, less willing to do what they called at BlogHer "naked" blogging. Sure, she's been compensated for her blog, but she's lost a great deal too.

I am a "naked" blogger; when Heather said that she doesn't blog about 95% of her life, I thought, wow: I am the total opposite. I don't blog about more like 5%. I really do put it all out here. And I don't want to take that back, you know? In other words, so what if I don't have a million readers a month (or the ad revenue that comes with it)? I have a great resource here with this blog, and a great relationship with my readers, and I wouldn't give that up for anything.

Um, but that doesn't mean I'm taking down my ads or anything. I'm not CRAZY.

Anyway, I feel--thanks to BlogHer--filled up. Brimming with energy, excitement, and enthusiasm. Blogging means more to me than ever, and BlogHer actually clarified my relationship to blogging in ways I didn't expect. It's like blogging and I went to dinner and has a long talk about our relationship and then came home to have hot, hot sex. Yep. That's just what a it did for me. This post is the after-sex cigarette.

Thank you all, again, for making the trip possible. And honestly, I highly recommend that you consider going next year, no matter how small you think your blog is. After all, the conference was NOT about the famous bloggers--not at all. It was about all of us, the bread and butter bloggers who fill the blogosphere with our thoughts and hopes and dreams and fears. It wasn't perfect (I'll probably blog later about some of the shortcomings of the conference, like how women without children felt a bit sidelined or how completely and utterly OFF some of the approaches from the sponsors were, or how annoyingly tiny the names of blogs were on the name tags), but it was really, really rewarding. Plus, San Francisco (where I expect it will be again next year, which I think is stupid, but whatever) is an AWESOME place to get away from summer. Man, it was like perfect fall weather there. Coming home to Philly's humid soup would totally suck if it didn't include Tori. Heh.

I'm off to take Tori to her well-child checkup. I know I'll write more tomorrow. I can't stop now!

Home!

I'm home safe. Forgive me, but expect internet silence while I cuddle Tori endlessly.

Here's What I Do When I Have No Time To Sleep Before The Airport Shuttle Picks Us Up At 4AM

I download software so that I can pirate the DVD I have of me hanging out with Grover from Sesame Street. Heh.

The sound is all fucked up, and I'm sorry, my expertise are so limited I was unable to fix it. So turn the sound low so it doesn't hurt your ears. :) Enjoy!

Live Blogging BlogHer '08: The Closing Presentation

I'm going to just enjoy this one, folks. I'll write about it after.

But Paula? It's NOT because you suggested that. I'm not sure what you meant by your comment, but frankly, I'm blogging this live because my readers contributed to my trip fund and I feel like I owe them more than just a review after it happens. If you don't enjoy these posts, please don't read them.

BlogHer '08: Liveblogging. When The Road To Motherhood is Anything but Smooth

The infertility panel! Woot!

Sadly, this panel is up against some serious competition, mainly the blog-to-book panel (which I will watch the webcast of later). I decided that I needed to be here. After all, if it wasn't for infertility I wouldn't be blogging. So.

Intro of panel. Cool folks all.

Calling the community ALI (adoption, loss, and infertility). AWESOME.

Mel (Stirrup Queen) is moderating.

First up: why we blog about it. I babbled something long and grandiose. Someone took a picture of it.

Lori just called the panel the View on Clomid. Heh.

Pamela is talking about feeling invisible her at the conference, and her latest blog entry is sad... I guess some folks feel overwhelmed about the whole lots of babies here. I kinda think it's awesome--but I'm so far down the infertility road that I don't hate it anymore. Not sure how I would have felt three years ago.

Dramalish is here! And she's totally awesome. I have a photo with her somewhere I'll post.

Really, really, really wishing they'd scheduled this event at a different time. I hate how few people are here. Everyone is discussing building a bridge between fertiles and infertiles. Sigh. Not sure that one needs to be built, frankly. But that's probably because I don't give a shit about what people think about the subject (if you know what I mean).

I should clarify that. I mean I don't give a shit what other people think about infertility and ART, whether they "approve" or not, and whether or not they think I am a selfish asshole for pursuing a bio kid. Is that better?

Discussing the whole "non-moms" contest thing. Boy, that was organized by a bunch of idiots.

I'm waiting to talk again. Once again, I babbled endlessly. heh.

Sometimes I forget how painful the whole IF experience is.

Sarah has arrived with a diet rock star! But she's in the back of the room and didn't want to disturb things... arg. So close and yet so far.

Sorry. Not live blogging, cause I'm too busy listening to everyone. Suffice to say this panel is AWESOME.

It's wrapping up. Off to the keynote.

BlogHer '08: Liveblogging. The Commercial Momosphere

This is the panel I've been waiting for. SHOW ME THE MONEY.

Discussing the code of conduct for their blogs; how do they deal with people working in the commercial world. Where are these people that want to give me things and give me money? Seriously? WHERE ARE YOU? How can these tools to manage them and reject them help me if I'm not hounded already? I do get a few now and again, but not as many as some folks. Apparently.

The panelists haven't said their names so I don't know who is who. Ah, someone asked them to introduce themselves. Now I know.

Twitter is down for maintenance? Really? NOW? Fucking hell.

Good point; before you review a product, you need to also review the company. I hadn't thought of that.

A poor PR person is trying to defend her field.

Talking about protecting your content from them. Good point. I guess when I get to be an A-List blogger all this information will be TOTALLY HELPFUL. Heh.

I've had two energy drinks this morning, and I STILL feel half asleep.

Wow. Fascinating comment about how corporations feel like the we've hijacked their advertising. Interesting. Corporations are used to TELLING and now, they need to dialog and they have no idea how to do it (comment from Stacy at Mom Central). Interesting career available, when you think of it--become a company's Blog PR person. Spend the day reading blogs to determine the best way to approach them as an advertiser... hmmmmmmm. Maybe I'm going about this all wrong! Maybe I should get paid to READ blogs rather than WRITE one.

I didn't eat enough breakfast. I'm starting to fade and I think everyone can hear my stomach growling.

Another interesting comment; making sure your blog is very clear what you are all about, what you are interested. Do you think my blog is clear enough? I feel like it is. I don't think anyone arrives here thinking I'm something I'm not. What do you think?

Wow, a blogger who has a book reviewing blog and therefore gets tons of free books. I read SO much; maybe I should start a separate book blog. Because I have PLENTY of time for that. *snort*

Talking now about disclosure--admitting someone is paying you to review something, or being clear that you aren't being paid (like I did with the Diva cup the other day). Funny. I guess I do prefer knowing, but again, where are these people that want to pay me to review their stuff? HELLO! I'M RIGHT HERE! SEND ME MONEY!

Sigh. I am turning into a total whore.

Still thinking about the whole Blogging PR specialist thing. I have years of PR experience. If I could arrange to do that from home, that would be a pretty awesome gig. I'd really enjoy it too, I think. It would be really fun to spend my days telling companies how they don't have a clue about bloggers.

Blog rings; hooking up to increase traffic. Huh. Must find. Anyone know some good ones?

I've decided that I am going to approach a couple of these PR people and give them my card and tell them that I'd like to freelance for them.

This panel is wrapping up. I'm off to lunch. Wish me luck!

BlogHer '08: Liveblogging the morning keynote

Good morning everyone. Even with a good night's sleep last night (since no one told me where the good parties were--heh), I feel like the dirt ground into the bottom of your shoe. The dirt with shin splints. LOTS of standing endlessly, which as a fat girl, blows.

Anyone, I'm here at the keynote not really listening because my caffeine hasn't kicked in yet, but I realized there is something I've forgotten to say about the conference so far. I've not mentioned how unbelievably inspiring this all is. I haven't been around so much positive female energy in a long, long time, and I can't get over how BUZZED I feel with all the positive vibes going on around here. Everyone I meet is awesome--I mean it, EVERYONE--and I can't get over the power and strength of some of these women.

It's like going to a spiritual retreat, except everyone swears.

I am having a blast. Thank you all again for sending me. I love you all with that gushy, silly love that comes when you haven't slept and yesterday met your Sesame Street hero. It's an enduring love, I promise.

BlogHer 'O8: End of day one (photos!)

Can you believe how much I'm posting? No, me either. It's really fun, though--it makes it so much more enjoyable to get to share it all with you. Please bear with me. Heh.

So, after all the panels, and the Keynote presentation (they had "best of" entries read by bloggers--some moved me to tears, and Jenny made me pee my pants laughing), they had the party. The party at a club around the corner from the hotel, totally one of those clubs with velvet ropes (where when they closed from our party, they promptly kicked us out of the upstairs VIP area) where I felt horridly uncool.

The party was "hosted" by TNT, and they had Gina Ravera, star of The Closer and ER, hanging around chatting with folks. As you all know, I am a huge The Closer fan (and I'm watching ER until the bitter fucking end), so I wandered over to say hi and, you know, the stupid shit you say when you meet famous people you admire. She is BEAUTIFUL, unbelievably so, and SO. FUCKING. NICE. We talked--seriously--for 15 or 20 minutes. I kept standing there, chatting away, thinking over and over I can't believe she's still talking to me. She even wrote down things I said. No, really. It was supremely cool. She wanted to tell me something else (hard to believe) but other fans finally interrupted us and I never got a chance to find out what it was. But I did get a picture. And you know what else? She called me a rock star (she said I had a really "I don't care what you think" attitude. And she meant that in a good way. If only she could be inside my head for ten seconds). I promptly melted into a pile of star struck goo.

Then it was time to stalk the A-Listers. Heh. First up? Finslippy! Alice was incredibly sweet and claims that she read my blog back before I changed the name (from "and I wasted all that birth control" for anyone that doesn't know). If she was lying, I couldn't tell, so I'll just be tickled, m'kay?

Next up, Amalah. Who I spotted early hanging with Sweetney (who I also met very briefly), and while I  tried to figure out an angle to meet her she spotted my tattoos and decided I was too cool for mommy bloggers. Which is too funny. Eventually, I introduced myself, and she greeted me with a big hug and gasps like she knows who I am and reads my blog. And, frankly, she knows enough about my blog that I guess I'll have to believe her. In fact, she said she's read me for years, and I believe used the words "blog crush." Squee!

Have I mentioned how fucking happy I am I have business cards? Otherwise, what would I give to the folks that gave me these? I AM GOING TO HAVE SO MANY NEW BLOGS TO READ.

Here is today's swag. And believe it or not? I went to the swag recycle room and got rid of half of it already.

AWESOME.

The highlight of my day, of course, was the video I made with Grover. No, really, it was the most awesome thing. I've been somewhat in love with Grover since I was three, so it was like, you know, THE COOLEST THING EVER. But I also met a more recent Sesame Street muppet:

Down in the bottom right is the woman that operates Abby. The real one, like from the show.

So, anyway, Sarah spent the day taking photos and meeting a Flickr friend. Before she met me for the party, she stopped by our hotel to freshen up. And who is in the elevator? DOOCE. She met her and John and everything. I am seething with envy. Heh.

Alright. I'm off to bed. Expect more tomorrow!

BlogHer '08: Liveblogging

Now I'm here. I'm still totally fucking giddy from the video I did with Grover. Which once I have a clue how to translate a DVD to a iMovie file I will post (help?).

Body image? I am so there. Or here. Whatever.

Wow. What a compelling speaker this woman is. I mean, they all are, everyone on the panel, but the story she just told (about her white-looking son relating to his black grandfather) just blew me away.

The moderator is super awesome too. I have an unreasonable affection for women brave enough to shave their heads. DUDES: she has a book of nude photos of fat women. I have a girl-crush.

I can't stop eating this huge box of free chocolate I got. I'm going to make myself sick.

Also, while I am enjoying this panel, I am trying to make the video to post here. Sigh.

Someone just mentioned Barbie. You should see the hands shoot up. Including mine.

I got to speak! YEAH!

We're talking about whether or not "fat" is a rude bad word. I say no. I am in the minority.

Everyone is talking about how peers effect their kids. Making me more and more determined to homeschool.

Just because the panel is wrapping up: a photo of me with Stephanie Klein, the keynote speaker with Dooce on Saturday night. She was so incredibly sweet and supportive and gave me a lot of awesome feedback. And I felt like I was with a rock star, since her blog-to-book is now going to be a TV show. Sheesh.  And she introduced me to her husband as someone with a really interesting story.  *Gloat*.

Live Blogging BlogHer '08: Mommy Blogging: Public Parenting & Privacy

This one is going to be good. I will get called on this time, I SWEAR.

Link to panel here.

Crystal lost her son for ten years and she's still standing? My god.

Former cop? COOL.

Keeps all on the downlow.

Awesome blog title.

That's the panel.

Number one fear for kid's safety: predators, kidnapping, embarrassing the kids, stealing photos. From the audience. How it will affect the kids later. Being judged for how you parent.

Not sure I should be at this panel. Maybe I should have gone to the political one instead. It's interesting, and I know that people are worried about this, but I am just not one of them. Maybe I'm an idiot.

800,000 kids are abducted every year; 82% by people they know. So much for stranger danger.

I think I'm gonna switch panels. Is that rude?

I'm off.

***OMG, I'm going to make a video with Grover!***

Live Blogging BlogHer '08: Mommy Blogging: Is It Still A Radical Act?

First question: Is it still radical? Question is from first BlogHer four years ago. Panel link here.

12% of adults blog, 13% of women, and 15% of moms. Weird.

First panelist says: the more radical you are, the more interesting. Cool. Is swearing radical? Cause I'm ALL OVER IT.

Can you have ads and still be radical? Apparently not, since I just got fired from Google Adsense. They claim I have pornographic content. Jeez, you write ONE blow job post...

You can hardly hear the panelists over all the fingers tapping on keyboards in here.

Talking about whether or not ads impact your writing. Nope, not me. I have asked for certain ads (diet ones) to be pulled.

Just finally decided to actually wear the laynard with my name tag. Sigh. I hate it. I just hate laynards. It's a big boob thing.

Polly just said blogging is proposing a new agenda for motherhood. FUCK YEAH. She's cool.

Audience member talking about how mommy books lie and mommy blogs tell the truth about parenting (specifically, getting shit all day).

I wish I had the guts to say something at panel level. I am a blank of useful points. Plus, last audience member was too awesome and I can't beat her. Or come close.

"Speaking truth to power about motherhood." See? I can't come up with that stuff. Mommy blogging is still radical according to this mom cause we get shit for doing it. Proof that it's rad. OH YEAH.

Everyone is picking on baby wipe warmers. Hilarious.

When asked if you should change your content to be more commercial, Maria said "Hey, I know Nintendo is here and I want a Wii." Hysterical.

OK, I think I have something to say. Oooh! Oooh!

Now I can't get anyone to notice my hand up. Even though I have a tanktop on with all my tattoos showing. Sigh. They've moved on from what I wanted to say.

Best blog name EVER.

Polly just said that blogging gives you the chance to think deeply. So true.

Oh, great point: mommy bloggers making money is radical because we get shit about it. OH YEAH.

They've come back to my point! Oooooh!

"I love that they don't see us coming." Great point about mommy blogging!

Interesting point: not pandering to readers (do you feel pandered to?).

On to a new point but I still have something to say about it. Whee!

OK, I think the mic wranglers hate me.

Ooooh, touchy topic: diversity. This room is 95% white.

Mommy blogging legitimizes motherhood? Hmmmm. Not so sure about that.

I love that there are noisy babies in here. Cute ones too. I miss Tori.

I give up. I'm not going to get to talk. Woe is me.

This was awesome. It's wrapping up, so I'm ending this. Sorry if it's so scattered. :)

Brief Update (with photos!)

Man, last night was CRAZY. Sarah and I were near delirious from exhaustion, but we managed to hit both parties (sadly, we missed the swag at the People's Party--spent too much time at the newcomer's bash). So who all did I meet?

CityMama who is DAMN TALL and absolutely gorgeous, and seriously way younger than I thought. Or at least she looks younger (she's so accomplished I guess I thought she was much older). She gave me a great big hug which was awesome. I'll try to get a photo later this weekend.

Mel of Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace Jesters who is also younger than I thought, and super adorable--seriously, she's just breathtakingly pretty in person (her hubby ain't bad either, but sorry--Charlie's my man and boy do I miss him!). We didn't get to have dinner, but will get together again later this weekend. And look! A photo!

We met up with Sarah of Dreams and False Alarms for dinner, and it simply felt like we've known her FOREVER. She's gorgeous and smart, and it was so relaxing hanging out with her I hope she comes again tonight. Plus she allowed me to have an all Sarah entourage. Photo of the Sarahs:

I met a dozen other folks, and I have a stack of business cards of people I'm looking forward to getting to know, but I am already late (I'm waiting for Charlie and Tori to video conference). So more later!

2AM My Time

We're back in the room after a whirlwind of a nice dinner out with Dan and Sarah, two crazy parties, and lots and lot of talking. The tattoos are a HUGE hit, you will all be happy to know. :)

EXHAUSTED. Going to bed now. Will post links and photos tomorrow!