BlogHer 2013

It's that time again. Time to pack a bag and head to BlogHer.

I actually have goals this year. Having the honor of producing Listen to Your Mother in Raleigh this year has breathed new life into my desire to write and create a professional presence online. A new website is coming, and this blog will be laid to rest.

I have been blogging here for over seven years - an anniversary that passed without notice or flair. This space will always be missing something now that Susan is gone, and I decided awhile ago that I didn't want to be here without her.

But I do want to write. I want to be a part of this community still. I want to tell you about my children, my dogs, my guppies, the chickens that are on their way to my backyard. I want to share what I'm making because after all, making things is what keeps me going. 

So if you meet me at BlogHer, and by chance, come here to see what I'm doing, the answer is, regrouping.

I'll be at BlogHer honing my writing skills. Gearing up for more posting and less silence. Getting help on moving into my new space. Finding advice on starting a local writers' group. Thanking BlogHer for creating a place to nurture the relationships we have here. Hanging with my friends. Meeting some new people. Enjoying all of the "me too" moments that happen when you share your stories. And probably eating Cheeseburgers while wearing silly hats. Because all work and no play and all that jazz.

I'll keep writing here until the new space is up and running, but I hope you'll follow me on Twitter so that you can come say hello when I've moved. And if you are here because I met you at BlogHer, please leave me a link to make sure I come see you too.

I almost forgot - I'll be in my favorite place at BlogHer, the Serenity Suite, on Friday and Saturday from 1:00-2:00 PM. In the Sheraton, suite 1287. Please stop by this anxiety and alcohol free space and say hello. I'll share a Diet Coke with you, and if you know me, you know I don't share Diet Coke with just anybody. 

One more thing, that's one of my besties up there eating a cheeseburger with me. She's sitting this year out because she has a bundle of sweet goodness named Chase who needs her and her boobies at home with him. You should check out her food blog: A Little Nosh.

#blognow

Tonight was the night of the monthly Twitter chat, #blognow. The three lovely hosts are people I met have "known" online for years, but only really introduced myself to at BlogHer this past August. I have enjoyed talking with them instead of just listening in - it really has been so nice.

I don't ever really feel like a writer though. I like to write, but I'm not a writer. I like to sew, but I'm not a seamstress. I like to sing, but, well, okay. I'll take that one. I am a musician and have worked damn hard at making sure I was successful at that. Still. Creatively, I'm not exactly excelling.

The thing about November - that month where we torture ourselves with the promise to write everyday - it's a time where I force myself to sit down and post everyday. Granted, I've done a couple of gimmie posts already, but I also have done more writing this month than the past five or six months combined. So it's good for me.

I'm good at goals. Writing everyday for a month. Tracking what I eat through Weight Watchers. Getting the Listen to Your Mother show done. Things with tangible goals and deadlines, I can do.

This book that I want to write though? That's just me, thinking about it? Promising myself that I would write at least 500 words every night before I hit the pillow? That's not going so well.

Accountability. I need it, but don't have it where the book is concerned. I guess I'm not committed enough to it. I don't know.

I do know though, that I sat down tonight, thinking I would just post three lines, and I'm still rambling on and on. I have words. I just have to get them out. And edited. Some editing ever at anytime might be good.

In which I blog about blogging. Again. Sorry.

So. You want to start a blog. Or maybe you have already started a blog. Good for you. Everyone who wants to blog should absolutely do so.

I'm no expert. I have been blogging what is considered a "long time" now. That's funny to me, because I'm still pretty much just swimming in the same little pond with a handful of readers and no ambition to change that.

However.

I have advice for you. You, the newbie. You, the brave soul looking to open yourself up to the internet and see what happens. I have some advice which I offer for free and which you may take or leave. It is what it is.

1. Determine why you want to blog before you start. That doesn't mean you have to have a business plan, an outline, or flow charts of all possible outcomes. It means that you should know if you want to be a storyteller, a memoirist, a reviewer, a tip giver, a fashionista, a cook, a crafter, a parent, or whatever else you might strike your fancy.

You can be more than one at a time. You can evolve from one to the other. You can add or subtract reasons as you go. But know when you start, what your heart's goal is.

Here's why. People want to know who they are investing their time and feelings with. If you are going to be a storyteller, then tell me stories. Don't tell me a tale of your life one day and then offer me a sponsored post about coupons the next day. I will feel betrayed and never come back. If you are going to be a cook, then give me wonderful recipes, and do tell me about your family and life and why you like to eat this. Then I am invested, but I knew from the start that you are going to teach me how to cook.

It's about the transparency. You will hear that a lot if you start going to conferences. Authentic voices. Honesty. No one likes to feel like they have been duped.

2. Determine who you are willing to let pay you for your work. Even the people who "just blog" and do so well deserve to be paid. We pay for television. We pay for music (or we should). We pay for the art on our walls. The stories we read also deserve to earn a living for their authors.

You can be paid a variety of ways in the blogging world. You can post ads. You can write sponsored posts. You can do giveaways. Or so I hear. Honestly, I don't really know how you get paid because it's not on my radar. I do know that you need to be careful about where you sign away your license though.

Here's why. Companies aren't paying you because you are a fabulous and creative writer. They are paying you because in doing so, they think they can sell more product. They are investing something in your blog because they believe there will be a return on their investment. There isn't anything wrong with that, but I'm not going to connect as deeply with a writer who sprinkles in links and advertisements as though they are just natural parts of the essay. In fact, I'm going to click away and not come back because I will feel used.

Freelance writing gigs exist. If you have the know how, then you can get them. If you don't, then hire an agent. But if you want for people to take you seriously as a writer, then don't let a product be the driving force behind your blog revenue (excluding sidebar ads, of course). Know your strengths. Not all writers are good business people. That's fine. If you want to have a beautifully written blog that earns a living for you, but you don't know how? Get help. Be patient, get help, and don't dilute your voice by becoming a brand ambassador. It will feel terrific at first to get attention from companies, but I guarantee you, making a connection with a real person and knowing that they care about you and love you? Feels a whole lot better than knowing that a company loves you. Because they don't. Not really.

3. Be alright with who you are online. You are okay. Maybe your blog is small. Maybe your blog is big. What matters is that you are getting the satisfaction of creativity or community or revenue that you want out of it.

You can have thousands of Twitter followers, but if you don't have ten who you could call up, on a real phone, and talk to when you needed them, then what's the point? Because even if you are blogging solely for business reasons, you have to have a network in order for your business to grow. So make friends. Make connections. But don't let the number be your driving force.

Here's why. If you focus only on the numbers and stats, then you will miss the value of the connections you have made. Be alright with your 19 blog hits. Connect with the 19 people who read your post. Be alright with someone else having 19,000 blog hits. They are obviously doing something to which people are drawn. Go there, see what it is. Enjoy it.

Give yourself the chance to enjoy the community instead of competing with it. It has been said frequently that there is room enough in the blogosphere for everyone. It's true. You just have to find a place to root. Then you can grow high enough to spread your branches.

There you have it. Stuff I think about while I'm cutting up fruit for the week. Or while I'm sewing. Or trying to sleep.

I'm okay. You're okay. We are all okay. Just be clear about who you are and what you want. Then go for it.

It's totally worth it.

Next. Take two.

I am back.

The city did not swallow me whole. The conference did not eat my lunch. The women did not drain the life out of me.

Cliche. That was all just cliche.

I know what I need now.

I need to find the quiet space of this empty white box before I take in your Instagram pictures, before I throw in a few quips on Twitter, and before I snoop through Facebook. For this is where I find myself, and all other places are where I find you.

I need to find myself.

BlogHer was huge. I loved it that way. Sometimes, it is easier to find your space in a huge crowd than in a smaller crowd. The odds are more in your favor that you will find like minds.

The last BlogHer I attended was in San Francisco. There were about 800 people there. I had a six month old in tow. I was a mess in more ways than one. Private parties were apparently all the rage that year, and I had been so out of touch that I had been invited to almost nothing. I felt so lonely when everyone I knew got on that bus and went to a party at someone's house without me.

This year, I was also invited to almost nothing. The difference was, I didn't notice. There were so many people there and so many different things to do, I didn't notice. Either that, or I'm just older now, and I really have found my own feet, my own voice, and my own way in this community.

There is that.

In the sessions, I liked the fact that when the discussions turned to monetization, and they always did, I never heard anyone say that you shouldn't. That you were selling out. In fact, I don't know who these people are who say that. Personally, I don't think they exist.

What I did hear, mostly in my own head, was that you should do what you do in the way you like to do it. What I didn't hear and should have said more clearly when I did try to say it, was that if you want to make money at blogging, you have to work at making money. No one is going to read your blog, love it, and hand you some huge advertising deal. You have to sell yourself or find someone to sell you for you.

I'm not interested in that. I know how hard it is to get someone to pay you well for your artistic work. I have one art form for which I insist on being paid; I don't need another one.

I am interested in becoming a better writer. A writer who actually edits, takes notes daily, and crafts a post instead of pounding out some thoughts and hitting publish.

I am interested in sewing. I love it. I want to make things out of fabric. Which is a weird thing to just say, but it's true.

I am interested in music. Of course. I want to get up in that beautiful recording studio Kevin has been pouring his soul into for the past six years. I want to compose, sing, play, record, mix, and finish music.

The plan in my head was for this BlogHer to be my last hoorah. I really did think I was done with this space and needed to close up shop. It couldn't have turned out more differently.

Spending time with my tribe just reminded me that I love it here. I love this space. I love the people I have met because of this space. I love what this space provided for me and Susan. I love blogging. I blog for the love of it.

So that's what I'm doing here. I'm still just rambling on, but with more focus than I have had in awhile.

It feels alright to be back.

Next

What am I doing here? Not blogging, that's one thing.

I'm healing. Still hurting. Mostly living. Getting help. Finding help for my heart and my boys. Swimming. Working. Sewing. Cooking. Losing weight. Chauffeuring. Vacationing. Hiking. Trying to reconnect with people I adore and miss and have been shutting out.

Considering what comes next.

Nothing makes me miss Susan more than opening blogs. I'm not sure I want to do it without her anymore.

And yet, in a few weeks, I'll be flying up to New York City to attend another BlogHer convention.

What exactly am I doing?

I miss writing. But more than that, I miss knowing that she's reading.

Do you Tumblr?

While the ole blog has the 30 Days of Truth going on for the month of November, I've been enjoying using my Tumblr page more.

There are pictures of the kids, my favorite Etsy finds, conversations, and short thoughts that I might normally blog over here. Feel free to join me there for less than blogging, more than Twitter.

Because you NEED another social media site to worry about.

What about you? Do you Tumblr? Can you leave me a link so I can follow you?

Have a great weekend. Smooches.

Communing, not competing

That big pit of mommyblogging quicksand seems to have grabbed a hold of my ankles and doesn't want to let go. Competition. I've said so many times that I blog because I want to, not to make money, get free stuff, or to feel loved and important.

It's easy to say that. It's harder to keep it going.

My four year blogoversary came and went without me even batting an eye at it. My BlogHer Ads have been up for over three years. I've blogged for and left the SVMoms Group. Two BlogHer conferences under my belt and a ridiculous amount of swag later - I'm still just me.

I guess it's time for that personal pep talk again. The one where I remind myself that it's my choice to keep this a small time operation. It's my choice to not give my posts up for free to a group who made money off of them. It's my choice to keep my little BlogHer ads up just for the feeling of belonging to that community and not because I'm going to maximize my SEO anytime soon.

Still. I feel like maybe there should be yet another button. Yet another group of bloggers who band together and say, "This exists for my benefit. I choose to expand it or to not expand it. I work as hard as I want to on it, and my traffic and exposure reflect that work or lack thereof. I welcome the community, but I don't do it for the fame and fortune. I am not competing with you - I am communing with you."

As everyone gears up for BlogHer again this year, I get those twinges of longing. But what I'm really longing for is the desire to do more with my blogging. And it's just not there. I don't have the desire to use this space as anything other than what it is right now. I need to be alright with that. I am alright with that - I just need to keep reminding myself of that.

I am ready for a little change though. Some sprucing up. Maybe a new template. I would like to move off of Blogger and onto my own domain, which I have shamefully owned for over two years and done nothing with it. Again though, I just don't have the motivation to put the time into moving it. Plus, I know that I would likely lose most of the readers I have now if I broke this link. I don't know. It would be nice to have new digs.

So what about you? Are you happy with where your blogging life is? Do you wish you were doing more? Are you satisfied with the relationships it's brought you? Do you wish you could buy more than a latte a month with your ad revenue?

I'm curious.

How it is

I opened a post. And Squeak cries. It never fails.

NaBloPoMo. Whatever.

I don't even really know what it exactly stands for. National Blog Posting Month? Maybe? All I know is that I've ignored it three times now. This year? I'm not going to ignore it, but I'm not making any promises either.

I'll give it a shot. I won't post here everyday, but I'm going to try and post here, at Triangle Mamas, or at Specraftular everyday.

Today, it's at Specraftular, on the making of Little Bird's Halloween costume. Go have a peek if you like.

It's up to me and only me

One thing that was so refreshing to discover at the Type A Mom Conference this past weekend, is that I'm not completely insane. It's always nice to discover that, I think.

What I mean is, that for awhile now, I've been pondering why it is that people can't just do their best, rise above, and quit telling everyone else how to do things. In the blogosphere, that is.

Let me give you an example. I'm a piano teacher. Well, when I'm working, I'm a piano teacher. I teach out of my home. So does another woman in my neighborhood. I teach on a 6'4" Mason & Hamlin grand piano, use the latest notation and ear training software on a large flat screen HP computer, and am a member of all of the professional organizations. I hold a Bachelor of Music in music composition, perform and record regularly, and my students kick ass in competitions, if I do say so myself.

The other teacher in my neighborhood teaches on a spinet, has no degree, doesn't enter competitions, and simply decided that since she could play the piano a little, that it would be a good way to make money from home. Teaching lessons, that is.

Needless to say, the other teacher charges less than me. She gets more students coming in her door because she is cheaper and just as convenient as I am. She is patient and kind, and never tells the parents that their children need to invest more time in their lessons at home.

If I applied what I keep hearing from other bloggers to this situation, then I should have a sit down with this other teacher and talk to her about how she is bringing down my profession. I should ask her to join our organizations, charge more, and be a better teacher. I should call her up and let her know that she is cheapening what I do, and belittling piano teachers everywhere.

And actually? I know a couple of teachers in town that have done just that. They got nowhere with it, and people generally don't like them.

Here's the way I see it.

That woman calls herself the same thing I do: a piano teacher. However, calling herself one doesn't make her one. Sure, I "miss out" on a number of students whose families aren't willing to pay what I charge. I happen to look at it as though she is weeding out the people who aren't worth me spending time away from my children. The people who aren't serious about their child's music education and are just looking for another after school activity.

It is up to me to continue proving why I'm better and worth more money. It is my responsibility to live ethically and be the kind of teacher that people seek out and don't just stumble upon. My success or worth has nothing to do with the other people who are in my same profession - it has to do only with how well I do what I do. The other teacher has nothing to do with who I am.

There is room for everyone. Back to blogging, there is room for good writers, bad writers, reviewers, monetizers, writers who get paid, writers who don't. The internet isn't going to run out of room, and if you are true to yourself - authentic - then you will be successful.

What you need to feel validated and successful is unique to you. While one woman may be excited to be paid in cupcakes, another one may demand $300 for a post. It doesn't mean that the woman demanding $300 for a post won't get it. It's not like the same company that would be looking at her in the first place would then go and consider all of us cupcake writers out there.

I'm validated by the relationships created through this space. Cupcakes are nice too, but mainly, I just really like having a place to write and an outlet that leads me to other women writers as well.

I think Mommy Niri said it quite well, "Blog and let blog," or as I like to say, "It's alright with me if you suck," which was going to be my title until I realized that some people might not find that funny. Except Abby.

Road trip

I'm headed out to the Type A Mom Conference. This morning, I'll be picking up Abby in Kevin's crazy tiny car, packing all of our stuff into its crazy tiny trunk, and headed for the mountains.

Here are my confessions:

1. I'm not as excited as I could be. I want to go, and I don't want to go all at the same time.

2. It's the first time I've ever been away from Bird overnight. Ever. In his entire life. Hence the want/not want feelings.

3. I'm scared that Bird will wean while I'm gone. While I know this would be alright, and that he isn't really nursing that much anymore anyway, I really wanted it to be his decision and not because I left him for three days. Of course, I should have thought more about this when planning the trip. Duh.

4. Mixed in with my ambiguous feelings is the pure excitement of being free for three days. Even though I don't feel the need to carve out a bunch of "me time" - I actually enjoy being with my kiddo and being his mom 24/7 - there is part of me that is excited about not cooking or cleaning for three days. Yay.

5. I'm not worried about Kevin taking care of Bird. I feel like I'm supposed to be, but I'm not.

6. I've never really spent time on the Type A Mom website, but the conference is in Asheville and far more affordable than BlogHer.

7. I don't read many of the blogs of the people speaking. Some, but not many. Will be out of the loop I guess.

8. I don't care to monetize my blog or connect with sponsors. Although if VW wants to give us a Touareg to test drive for awhile, I wouldn't turn that down. That's a sweet deal. But really, I'm kinda wondering what I'll do that will be conferencey like.

9. This trip is coming at a time when I've started to think that blogging is more work than I have time for. We'll see . . .

Small things and smaller me

Yesterday, I was doing some cleaning upstairs after Little Bird's nap. Usually when we work upstairs after a nap, he just plays or runs up and down the hallway, but yesterday, he was watching me. I was unpacking some shelves for pictures, and placing the wrapping on the floor for the trash. Just to see, I asked him if he could throw the trash away. He smiled, picked up the trash and started looking around. I pointed to the trash bag hanging on the door of the closet, and he walked over and proudly put the trash in the bag. Then he came back for more.

It's a small thing, I know. But every time there is two way communication between us, I get so excited. I love that he answers "yes" or "no" questions now, and I love that he can follow simple instructions. I love watching him learn and grow. It's amazing to me.

********

In other news, I've jumped on the bandwagon. Today was the first day of my 30 Day Shred. The shredheads have been inspirational, and I'm ready to say goodbye to the last 10 pounds of baby weight. Which I plan on putting back on soon, but there are swimsuits to wear between now and then.

I'll be blogging my shred, but not here. Until we have "after" pictures to go with my "now" pictures, I'm not sharing with the general population, so it's password protected. But if I know you, or you can tell me who you are, and you would like to follow along with my shredding, just shoot me an email, and I'll send you the password.

In which I refrain from hijacking Abby's comments

Last week, Little Bird and I had a wonderful morning at Marbles in downtown Raleigh. We spent most of our time chasing our toddlers through the area that used to be Playspace with a fire engine, a store, train tables, and all sorts of things for pretend play. Before heading our separate ways, we popped over to Roly Poly and grabbed some lunch with the boys.

What do bloggers talk about at lunch? Why, blogging, of course. Abby asked me if I thought quality or quantity was more important on a blog. She has already written about this, and the comments that the post received prompted me to want to weigh in a little further because I read them and just slapped my forehead and said, "Well, duh."

My plain and simple answer was "quantity." This answer, given while feeding a child with no bib and an overdue need for a nap a peanut butter and jelly wrap, obviously needed a little more explanation.

In context, I was telling Abby that I felt quantity was important. When Abby writes a grocery list, it is good writing, so there is a level of quality that is already assumed. There are so many different styles of bloggers out there, and I thought we were mainly talking about blogs with a certain level of quality already there and not craptacular ones written in the voice of a two year old or holding a giveaway every other day.

In that context, when I think of quality, I think of those posts that stand out on Chicken and Cheese or Motherhood Uncensored that come along and take my breath away. While those writers find the time to post something almost every weekday, some days it is a short post with a picture and a punchline. Or some days it is one paragraph with a recent observation. While I'm not saying the shorter posts aren't quality, I was considering them not to be something that was left in draft for days while the author crafted sentence structure and carefully chose just the right words to insure that their thoughts would leave a lasting impression on their readers.

A subtle difference between craft and creation.

I guess I considered it a given that Abby and I would both be reading blogs with general subject/verb agreement, correct spelling, and posts that frequently envoke a deep thought or a deep feeling. I think we were, but I'm not sure when the question "quality or quantity" is asked to a general population of bloggers that the same thing is assumed.

I know there are bloggers out there who hate the term "mommyblogger." It's just a label though, and you can't control what other people call you. What I think they hate more than the word is the association with such a vast diversity of bloggers. There are mommybloggers who are fantastic writers, and write about life, not just motherhood. There are mommybloggers who blog mainly for family and friends, and it really doesn't matter how thought provoking they are as long as there are plenty of pictures of little LuLu in her Easter dress. There are mommybloggers who blog through their photography or their crafting. There are mommybloggers who don't know who they are and seem to change to fit the current trend every few months. There are mommybloggers who just want a free bottle of shampoo and something to give away to their "readers," who are really just people stopping by to win something.

There is also the problem of quality being subjective. I know good writing, and honestly, that's not always what I'm looking for in a blog. Most of the time, I'm looking for a connection too. Are you a blogger who has a homonym problem? Fine. I can overlook that because something else has made me interested in you and your family. Do you occasionly use your space to pimp out a product? Alright then. Because I already read you and care about your life, I don't mind the diversion.

That being said, I don't read terrible writing or dishonest writing. I don't read blogs whose authors aren't genuine or who have proven to be frighteningly crazy. Political conspriacy posts popping up in a normally well written blog? Might just be enough to convince me to remove that blog from my reader. Giveaways or sponsored posts making up the majority of your content? I'm likely to not stay interested.

But for me, blogging is about connections. And like the friend who always waits for you to call them, some bloggers just don't post enough for me to feel like I'm still invested in their lives. If their blog is the only connection I have with them (no emails, no Twitter, no Facebook), then surely it's understandable that I won't stay invested if they only post once or twice a month. I think Abby's first commenter, who also happens to be her very smart husband, put it in better terms when he suggested that quantity didn't have to refer to the frequency, but rather that regularity in which posting occurs. I can agree with that.

Obviously, this is something I've been thinking about a lot lately and not just over lunch with a friend. I've been thinking about it because using my blog to talk about what Little Bird and I did yesterday? Not why I started it. See, I wasn't even married when I started this blog. I wasn't a mommy. I wasn't a mommyblogger. This has always been a space to talk about my feelings and my life, and now? It's a mommyblog. I haven't been sure what to do about that.

I think I know now though. I keep writing. I keep writing as me, and because the people that read my words have connections with me? Then yes. I should write about what Little Bird and I did yesterday if I want to. Even if it was just snuggle and play. Because there is a base level of quality to my writing simply because I have a good English background and was never without a book in front of my face for the first 18 years of my life. However, I like incomplete sentences and I don't worry too much about ending a sentence with a preposition. But that's not the point. I'm not trying to win any writing awards here. I'm not trying to get a book deal.

I'm sharing and working things out in my words. And sharing requires some amount of "quantity." It's part of a working relationship, and part of my view of blogging.

What about you?

Have you heard?

Did you know I have become crafty since giving birth? Did you know that I started blogging about it? Did you know that you can pop over and laugh with me through my attempts at sewing?

I have, and you can.

Today you can see some cutie pie t-shirts I whipped up for Little Bird. Come on over!

Respect the blog

"I may be just a little fairy, but I have a big vocabulary!"

It's my favorite line in Abby Cadabby's song "I Love Words." Christopher and I watch that video on the Sesame Street website at least three times a week. He sits on my lap and bounces while I sing along.

Although I haven't followed the 'no TV before 2' rule, we read far more than we watch TV. He gets about 15-20 minutes of Sesame Street in the afternoons, and on Sunday morning, we usually watch a weird little show called "Lomax, the Hound of Music." However, in this house, books rule. I want for my children to love words as much as I do.

I love reading words. I love writing words. I love prose, poetry, song lyrics. I will read anything. Cereal boxes, recipes, old letters that I've read 100 times before - it doesn't matter. I am fascinated by how words fit together like puzzle pieces to create exactly the right picture. Even when the words are crammed together like clowns in a tiny car and don't quite seem to work? I still love them.

I don't pretend to be a writer. Well, maybe I do, but not a good one. A few months ago, I took an online creative non-fiction class. The instructor was quite good, and I enjoyed the assignments very much. Truth is, I don't have the discipline to be a good writer right now. I would much rather sit down at my blog and type out what I could pay someone $200 an hour to listen to than craft rough draft after rough draft.

However.

The importance of these words cannot be discounted. I have found my words splogged across other sites. Ideas I have had and started here continue on without a mention of where they began. It's not cool. It's disrespectful. It needs to stop. Especially the particularly nasty sites where some perky titted naked chick poses above one of my posts about my baby. Creepy and wrong.

Kelly is spelling it out. Her writing made for a lovely article in The Times online. Only they didn't link to her. They mentioned her, but used huge amounts of her material without even a single link. No respect.

Mommyblogging is a radical act. We've discussed it. We all know it. We are telling the stories of motherhood in a new day and age. Connecting across boundaries that once were too far and too wide to reach. There is power in our writing and in our community.

It's time for us to respect ourselves and demand it from others too.

Respect the blog.








Go on over to Don Mills Diva and join the revolution. You deserve it.

Smash and Bird

On my self imposed shutdown, I stayed busy. Little Bird alone is enough to fill my entire day. Somewhere between books, music, naps, walks, meals, and baths, I had projects.

I made a purse for my friend, Constance; a quilt for my niece, Elisa; pirate costumes for Bird and Kevin; and a pirate wench dress for myself. The sewing machine was humming.

Something else I did was join Facebook. Took the time sucking plunge. I found some friends from high school and junior high school. I found my dear friend Lisa and found solace in similar stories. I found lots of my blogger friends I had been missing. I found girls from our psuedo- sorority at my very strange college.

And I found my Ashley again.

There is once in a lifetime, I think, a friend who slips through the cracks and you can't remember how it happened. Moves. Marriages. What have you. Whatever. We lost touch.

Then on the Facebook page of a high school friend, I saw my old roommate.

And we haven't missed a step.

Kevin is a little baffled over it, I think. I mean, I have friends - wonderful friends - but there is only one Ashley. I drop her name in conversations like she was never missing. Like we never unconnected and reconnected.

Tonight we were texting back and forth when dinner was ready. My phone kept going off between bites. It makes this horrible little shrill sound, and Kevin began wincing every time it went off. Because I am the sweet Shamoopie, I silenced it.

I was in the kitchen getting Kevin another Diet Mountain Dew when my phone began vibrating across the table. It was hardly a less annoying sound. I braced myself for the impatience headed my way, but instead he just laughed.

"Ashley?" he said.

"Yep," I said grinning over my shoulder at him.

All was forgiven. After all, it was Ashley.

One more thing. I had forgotten that she had a nickname for me.

Bird

Another Day

I still come here and sit quietly. I walk through the pages feeling the chill of a home that has been locked up tight with sheets over the furniture, curtains drawn, and the heat turned down low.

There are emails that sit unanswered. Questions of how I am, what I'm doing, how is the baby. I don't respond.

There are friends I haven't visited. Comments left untyped. My silence has extended from this space into your spaces as well.

I miss you.

I miss this space.

It has been over two months since I left here. I don't think it was a wrong decision. Contrary to my husband's and Cliff's opinions, I don't think it was a defeated decision. It was simply what I felt was right. To say that I was "defeated" means that I was in battle with someone, which is absolutely not the case.

Closing down gave me the distance needed to figure out why I do this in the first place and consider if it is important enough to me to allow access to everyone.

Even people who need restraining orders taken out against them to learn some boundaries.

The answer, obviously, is yes. Yes, it is that important to me. I miss you, and I miss this space. When I visit your blogs now, I feel like the guest that shows up at your house and never a cake or a bottle of wine.

You've missed so much. I've missed recording so much. There is dancing and cruising across furniture. There are five teeth and first words. There is so much joy.

I'm sorry to have vanished like I did.

For all of those who said goodbye, and I am so grateful for all of the comments - I had no idea there were so many of you out there reading - for all of the goodbyes, I hope that you don't mind saying hello again.

I guess that made my previous post an interrupted cadence. A V-vi if you will.

Of course, this is what you've really missed - some pictures of the big guy.

The coda and cadence

This blog is where I became who I am.

My marriage began during this blog.

My first baby lives only in these pages now.

I became a mother here in these words. First a stepmother. Then the mother of a baby that would never be held. Then Little Bird's mother.

It's where I have made too many friends to link to, but you know who you all are.

My words will stay here. They won't be taken down. But they won't be added to either.



This will be my last post.



I have been of the belief that it was perfectly fine to write about personal things here. To talk openly about my son and my husband. To give whoever wanted it a glimpse into our lives. Internet privacy wasn't a huge concern for me. I knew that whatever I posted was fair game and that if I didn't want something known, that I shouldn't put it on the internet.

However.

I had only considered the consequences of nasty crazy strangers who don't know my last name, where I live, or how to find me.

I never considered the consequences of people that know who we are and where we live.

By posting about going to the Liam Finn concert, I opened the door to let someone show up to that event and harass us. I also gave them a completely open window of time when they knew that my son would be home without me. Thank God they chose to come to the club and not our home.

That was the most irresponsible thing I have ever done in my entire life.

I will not repeat that mistake.

And to make sure, I will not be using this space any longer.

Maybe there will be another space someday. Something private with passwords. Something that the people I have grown to love here can still share with me.

For now though, I need to put the keyboard down. Stop feeding them. Stop giving them access into our lives. Stop pretending that they are inconsequential in our lives. We don't know that, and because of that unknown, the safest thing for me to do it to stop.

I feel like I have just ripped my fingers off and thrown them on the ground. My heart feels like I punched myself in the chest a dozen times. My gut is turning and begging me not to be bullied. Not to give in.

But it's not about that.

It's not a situation of "being beaten" or "giving in."

It's a situation of I love my son and my husband more than the air that I breathe and the life that I have.

And I should have been protecting them all along from someone who wishes them nothing but harm and ill will.

I am so very sorry, Darling.

You all know how to find me. Email will remain the same. At least for awhile. I hope you will stay in touch, and let me know if you would like to be informed of a new safe space in the future.

V7 and I.

We're done.

I spy me

I have a website for my music studio. It is rinky, but serves it's purpose. There is a sitemeter on it, just like there is on my blog. I like to know who is stopping by and how they found me.

The thing about my studio website is that you find it by Googling my name. Enter my name, and it's the first item up for bid.

Scanning through the sitemeter information this morning, I found that there are people in cities I didn't know I knew people in Googling me. My maiden name is not that common, and if you Google it, the only hits are actually me, so I'm thinking they aren't looking for someone else.

Then I see cities where people who used to be my friends live.

And I wonder what they are doing, still looking for me. Still thinking about me. Having cut me out of their lives, why search? What exactly is it you are looking for?

Do you wonder if I'm happy? Do you wonder if I remarried? Do you wonder if I finally got to become a mother?

Or is it the opposite? Do you wonder if I'm miserable? Do you wonder if I'm alone? Do you wonder if without you in my life I just can't stand to go on living?

Strange.

I Google old friends who I lost contact with occasionally. There is one person from high school I would really like to reconnect with (Matthew Everett, I'm talking to you), and there are people who fit into a certain era of life who I think about every now and then.

But I don't hunt down people on the other side of burned bridges. Curious or not, I chose to be on the other side of the ravine when that pathway was torched. It safer here for me.

Pretty soon, Deep South Moms will launch. It's the newest and of course most fabulous, addition to the Silicon Valley Moms Blogs group. You can find me there. You can find the real me with real names there. You, and all those random people from my past who entertain themselves by Googling me. You, all those random people, and Wife #1 and her family.

I have such a vast and varied fan club.

Seriously though. Anonymity is overrated. I've already learned lessons about not writing anything here that I wouldn't actually say out loud.

You can find the real me, the real Guy, and the real Bird, over at Deep South Moms. If you dare.

Mr. Richard's unwavering curiosity

It's not even 10:00 AM and I've already had my Mother's Day card, present, and breakfast. Gone are the days when a celebratory breakfast didn't even dream of starting until after CBS Sunday Morning.

Bird was a very sweet boy and got me a card and a trip to the Aveda Spa. Smart little guy.

We tried to go to the Farmer's Market for breakfast, but they weren't open yet. That's how early we were out and about this morning. Making the most of Bird's awake time.

Instead, we ate at the iHop near the college campus here in town. Usually it is slammed on a Sunday morning, but we learned that it's still pretty empty at 7:00.

Our waiter was a ridiculously friendly man whose nametag read "Mr. Richard." He cooed over Christopher, commented on our sling, and asked how much he weighed at birth.

In fact, he had many questions about his birth and other things. Throughout our breakfast, he asked:

"Was it a difficult birth?"

"Did it take you a long time?"

"How much did you dilate on your own?"

"Why didn't you dilate all the way on your own?"

"Did you get some of the spinal drugs?"

"What did they do to make you dilate?"

"I thought women were supposed to do that on their own. What makes them dilate?"

"Is this your first baby?"

"Are you two going to have another one?"

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Oh. Is he a lot older than you?"

"How old are you?"

At one point, I started to get pretty irritated that I was being barraged with all of these really personal questions. Mr. Richard would not let up on us one bit.

As I started to bitch about it, I couldn't help but laugh. Guy raised his eyebrow at me and asked what was so funny.

I said, "I'm bitching about a stranger being all up in my business."

"Yeah, so?"

"Dude. I blog. I put my business out there for strangers everyday. Why should it bother me that Mr. Richard has some weird sort of curiosity? Like I care?"

I blog.

So go ahead. Ask me anything, Mr. Richard.