Turning "no" into a flight home

By Sunday, I was really ready to come home. There were things I wanted to do - an invitation to the Art Institute or a sightseeing cruise - but when it all came down, I just wanted to see my boys before they went to bed that night.

Unfortunately, my flight didn't get in until 10:00 PM. They would have been asleep for hours.

Having used up every ounce of fabricated extrovertedness I could muster anyhow, I packed my bags and headed to the airport. I took a taxi to the train station and the train to O'Hare. It cost me around $10, mainly because I ridiculously over tip cab drivers.

My first stop was the American Airlines self check in. "I would like to catch an earlier flight home. Can you help me?" I asked.

"No, but you can do that on the self serve kiosk behind you."

"No" number one.

I move to the kiosk and begin typing in all of my information. The kiosk informs me that there are no seats available for an earlier flight.

"No" number two.

There is an American employee standing beside the kiosk, so I smile and ask her if I there is another option to finding an earlier flight home. She shakes her head and told me that the people at the desk have the same information as the kiosk.

"No" number three.

At this point, I was checked in for my late flight home, and I still had four hours to kill. I went and stood in line at the main American counters.

When it was my turn, I stepped up to the man behind the counter and said very calmly, "I would really like to get home sooner, can you help me get on an earlier flight? I know the kiosk said there wasn't anything, but I was hoping you might be able to help me."

He said he would try and began plucking away at the keyboard of his computer. No weather delays. Lots of standby passengers already. There was nothing he could do.

"No" number four.

I asked him what gate the next flight to Raleigh would be using, and he told me. He said I could ask the gate agent, but there wouldn't be anything for them to tell me.

After I made it through a very slow security line, I found the gate with the plane leaving for Raleigh.

FINAL BOARDING CALL the sign blinked above the desk.

I stepped up and smiled at an incredibly tired looking attendant.

"Yes? Do you need something?" she asked.

Pulling out my calm smile once again, I told her that I had hoped that she could get me on this flight to go home. I really just want to go home.

Sigh. "I have too many standby passengers as it is. I'm not putting you on my standby list."

"No" number five.

I smiled and raised my eyebrows at her.

Sigh. "I guess you can wait there and see."

I replied, "I've got nothing but time. Thank you so much."

She went through her remaining list of standby passengers. One by one they boarded the plane. Finally, she turned to me and said, "I guess I can take you, but it will be $75."

"Wonderful," I said. "I could just hug you, although that would be inappropriate."

A quick scan of my card (justified by not spending the money on the cruise or a cab home later that night) and an even quicker text to Kevin to tell him I was on my way, and I boarded the plane with not one, but two seats to myself. Ninety minutes later, I was landing in Raleigh and hugging my boys.

Turns out, they even delivered my luggage to me the next day instead of making me come back to the airport and pick it up. I did a lot of smiling at that guy too.

There are so many times when I'm told "no," and I just give up. It doesn't seem worth arguing or fighting back. Of course, this time I didn't argue, and I didn't fight. I just kept smiling and asking the question in a different way to a different person.

And come to find out, "no no no no no" in American Airlines vocabulary? Actually means "yes."

Me too

Walking through the expo at BlogHer is overwhelming. There are so many people and so many booths and so much of all the stuff in the world. I walk through alone because it's too much for me to be there in all that stimulus and carry on a conversation with a friend.

I stopped to learn about Yiva, a cool looking natural PMS symptom reliever, and the nice PR guy asked me,

"So, is this something you think you would write about?"

"No," I replied.

Simply put, no.

If BlogHer does one thing for me every year, it is to fortify me as a personal blogger. It stirs the desire to write and tell stories. It reminds me that the moments that drive me to blog are, simply put, the moments that make us say,

"Me too."

When Ann passed out these bracelets at the Listen to Your Mother brunch, just hours before I was supposed to head back home and into family life again, I couldn't stop myself from choking up a little. It was the perfect end to the weekend.

Thank you, Ann. Thank you, BlogHer.

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.

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.

Because they get it

I only met Susan one time. We were at the Type-A-Mom conference, and I had my baby with me. Susan got down on the floor with her and started to play. It was so cool.

"Ah," I say. "You must be @mamadweeb."

This is how is was this past weekend without Susan. I could not sit with her. I could not hold her hand. I could not laugh with her until we both cried.

But she was everywhere. Everywhere.

I remember walking into the Serenity Suite and finding Susan laying on the bed with her hands folded on her chest. She was sleeping, and I was thrilled that the Suite was being used so perfectly. I took out my phone to take a picture, and she opened one eye big just enough to give me the stink eye. The stink eye, and permission to go ahead and snap a picture.

"I remember this. It was right before she was to go speak on a panel. She needed to rest so badly. She laughed about that picture you took, Maggie. She told me about it."

I sat in the Serenity Suite and clutched my tissues as story after story as told from the other perspective. And I realized more and more all weekend long that she had told me every single bit of it.

It's not just that she wanted me to know because I couldn't be there with her that year. It is because every moment of her time at those conferences - no - every bit of human interaction at those conferences meant something to her. She loved people. She loving meeting you. She loved seeing your babies.

****************************************************************
Thursday afternoon, Amy and I were in front of the American Cancer Society's Hope Lodge, a place where cancer patients can stay for free while receiving long term treatment. We were about to go in for a reception honoring the #morebirthdays campaign and also honoring Susan.

We stepped onto the sidewalk, and I felt the panic rise all the way from the tip of my toes. In pulses, it moved through my abdomen, calling up my recently finished lunch, made its way to my throat, closing it tightly, and finally tried to escape through the tears welling up in my eyes.

I stopped. Amy stopped. She waited on me. Calmly. Patiently. It didn't take that long. I called up the techniques I've been learning in therapy the past few months, and in few deep breaths, I could move again.

That was how it was at BlogHer without Susan. Without Susan, but with friends who understand.

****************************************************************
Friday morning, the first panel I attended was Blogging for the Love of It. Bon was the moderator. She was one of the first bloggers I started reading in 2006 as per the advice of Susan. We love Bon, and Susan had the privilege of meeting her in D.C. one afternoon. Bon's posts were often a conversation topic for us, and Bon has been a tremendous support to me over the past year.

Walking towards the front of the room to hug Bon, I lost it.

Big, ugly, gasping, sobbing, tears. It came without warning and without being able to stop. I cried on her shoulder (great way for her to have to start her panel), and then excused myself to find some tissues.

With cocktail napkins in hand, and Sarah by my side, I began to pull it back together. Sitting in that session, I realized, this was going to be it. This weekend would be the weekend where I could cry freely because people would get it.

And so I did. I cried when I needed to or felt like it. Jean reminded me that it was okay. Kristen held my hand. Jess cried with me. Amy waited with kindness.

And they understood why I miss her like I do.

The tiles we painted in Susan's memory at the American Cancer Society.

They will be complied into a mosaic by Darryle Pollack, and hung at ACS in NYC or Atlanta.

BlogHer really isn't that big

And so this happened at BlogHer.

I met Sarah.

Sarah has a fabulous parenting magazine. It doesn't contain one single illustrated recipe for how to make your food look like teddy bears or monsters so that your children can not only refuse to eat it, but also insult your visual artistry at the same time.

What it does contain is brilliant writing and beautiful photographs. Parent centered without being dumbed down and surrounded by ads for hair color and diapers. It's called Stealing Time, and you can subscribe for just $20. I already have.

Anyway, I met Sarah.

There were about 5000 people at BlogHer. Saturday night, nine of us went to dinner together. Sarah picked the spot, and we headed out - me, Amy, Bon, Kristen, Neil, Vicki (who I'm sorry I didn't get to meet because we were split into two tables), Jean, and another Sarah (who I might have mentioned that I met).

After dinner, most of us ended up at CheesburgHer together. Sarah and I were the only ones who had willingly donned paper bag hats. I could tell she was my kind of person. By the hat.

We had not sat at the same table at dinner, so I asked her my jumping off question for the weekend, "Where are you from?"

Sarah was from Portland.

I knew better than to follow up my jumping off question with, "Oh, do you know the one person I know in the very large city from which you come?" Because, no. They do not know that single person who does not blog, is not married, has no children, and plays guitar in a Pink Floyd cover band.

Instead, I was leading into asking her about things to do with kids in Portland because I desperately want to take my children there to see the West Coast and visit this one wonderful friend of mine. And because I'm awkward with conversation in a crowd, over loud music, and with someone I have predetermined to be far cooler than I could ever hope to be, I say,

"One of my very best friends was transferred from the Guitar Center in Raleigh to the one in Portland."

Which is essentially, what I had tried not to do in the first place. That one person I know game. I am so socially awkward. However.

Sarah has a friend in her writing group who works for the Guitar Center in Portland.

I cock my McDonald's bag hat head, raise my eyebrows, and say,

"And his name is Dave?"

Sarah lowers her eyebrows and says that it is.

We both sort of nod in some sort of acceptance that this is one of the more unlikely meetings among 5000 people in New York City for a blogging conference.

And it was.

I know about her writing group. I know there is another mama named Rebecca who also writes and is interested in natural parenting. I know about Dave's story (that one) that we both agreed was our favorite (finish that puppy, Dave).

I told her about our super fast weekend to Portland to see Dave and Crowded House (Dave was not playing with Crowded House, he just went with us). She told me that there were lots of things for kids to do in Portland.

Then, we took a picture together in our hats, and I messaged it to Dave. With no caption. Because what would you do if you got a picture on your phone featuring two of your friends who live on opposite ends of the country, and you have no idea why they would have met? Or why they are wearing McDonald's bags on their heads?

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.

BlogHer 2012

Some time last fall, Susan and I had a crazy idea. I don't remember who said it first, nor does it really matter - what with us being of the same mind as we were.

"Let's go to BlogHer in New York. Let's do it. 2012."

We bought our tickets at the super earlybird rate and started making plans for our trip.

Honestly, I was done with BlogHer. It was too big for me. This is my little space, and not many people join me here. I'm fine with it just the way it is. I enjoyed BlogHer the years I had gone in the past, but I didn't feel the need to return.

However.

Susan shone at BlogHer. She was totally in her element. There was this myth that she concocted in her mind that I was the popular one in high school. One glance at the two of us in a crowd like BlogHer, and you would know there was no truth to that whatsoever. She owned the room when she entered. Confident. Friendly. Brilliant. Beautiful. Everyone noticed Susan.

I wanted her to feel that one more time. I wanted to make sure that she got to be in her element again come August. So I bought the ticket with my heart and ignored my head telling me it was fancy.

We made plans to have a handicapped accessible room because there was a strong chance she would be in a wheelchair. We made plans to be in said room a good bit of the time because there was a strong chance she shouldn't be around crowds. We made plans to cart in our own Diet Coke because BlogHer always ends up in a Pepsi place. And Diet Pepsi? No thank you. We don't do Diet Pepsi.

Then came February 6, 2012.

My first thought was to sell my ticket. She was the only reason I was going. But I put it off, and by the time I really started thinking about it, something inside me said, "Just go anyway."

So I am.

I'll be heading to New York City on Thursday morning. It will be three days with women who knew Susan and some women who know me. I don't know what to expect. I don't know if it will be hard, or if it will be healing.

It might simply be fun, like the weekend we just spent with Curt, Widget and Little Bear. There was sadness lingering, but we enjoyed being together so much that the sadness didn't prevail. I think Susan would have been proud of us.

So yeah. While the posts and tweets about clothes and shoes and swag fly by, if you think about it, say a little prayer for me. If you are there, please say hello to me. I tend to disconnect when the sorrow hits, and it's likely that you'll see me just standing around. Quiet. Glazed over. I'll be the one people tweet about as "aloof" or "snobby." But you know the truth.

I'm just wishing my heart had been right this time. I'm just wishing I was tackling this weekend with Susan.

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.

In which I whine about cancer again

Tomorrow morning I'm headed to the TypeAMom conference in Asheville.

The reason I started blogging was to have an anonymous place to vent the dust bunnies in my mind. My parents were sick and across the country. I had just been through a divorce. My soon to be husband had just been through a divorce. I had job issues. Stress abounded. Of course we all know how anonymous the internet really is . . .

I didn't know what a blog was until my friend Susan introduced me to Kristen's blog, Motherhood Uncensored. I was instantly hooked. I popped open Blogger, signed up, and never looked back.

Not too long after that, Susan started Toddler Planet. For months, we were our only readers. It was a great way for us to stay connected. In high school, we often shared our writing with each other. In fact, I still keep a journal that she gave me 20 years ago in my nightstand. It has lived right next to my bed for years and will continue to do so - even though my poetry in it is so cringe worthy, I won't even let Kevin read it.

But Susan has. She's read it and still likes me. A friend that can see through your cheesy poetry is a good friend indeed.

In 2007, we both bought our passes to BlogHer and looked forward to attending the conference together in Chicago. Then, shortly after a phone conversation in May that went sort of like this (and I'm wildly paraphrasing because only the last line really stuck with me):

Susan: Do you remember how your mom knew she had breast cancer?

Moi: She found a lump one morning under her arm. It was the size of a baseball.

Susan: There is something weird going on with me. Do you think it could be cancer?

Moi: Heavens, no. Of course not. You are too young. You have no family history. You couldn't possibly have cancer. I'll probably be the one to get breast cancer. You know, genetics and all.

Oh my dear word, how many times have I wished I never uttered any of those words to her? Could I beat my own head against the wall any harder? Could I have chosen something MORE stupid to say? Bad poetry AND my stupid mouth, and yet, she's still my friend.

Our BlogHer plans went out the window. I went without her and felt a giant hole in my heart the whole time. I wore my Team Whymommy shirt, cried on people's shoulders if they pressed me too much about her, and felt terrible that I was there, while she sat back home, starting her battle with cancer.

In 2008, we both made it to San Francisco for BlogHer. It was a whirlwind. I had Christopher with me. He was six months old, and I was still so full of anxiety that I kept him on his regular schedule which put me back in the hotel room at 3:00 PM for bedtime. I was a crazy woman. Susan was busy. I was crazy. But we were there together, and that was wonderful.

Last year, Susan hit BlogHer and I hit TypeAMom. Again, I had a good time, but for me, blogging is so much a part of our friendship now - I just felt like she should have been there.

Fast forward to 2010, and we were planning again. We both had our TypeAMom passes. I have another infant, but am far less ridiculous. Susan is just coming off of an amazing time at BlogHer where she rocked the crowd as one of the Voices of the Year. I know I would be sharing her with an awful lot of women again, but it just felt right that we were going to be there together.

DAMMIT.

I know that I am not the one who has cancer. I know this, and I understand that to many people, this probably means that I shouldn't complain.

But for CRYING OUT LOUD. Could cancer please leave the people I love alone??? There will be no trip for Susan again this year. Chemo has got her resting at home.

I miss her.

And while I'm griping about it, chemo has knocked Momma on her rears as well. Colin has yet to be baptized, and I can't decide if I'm being ridiculously selfish even asking her to come administer the sacrament. I mean, I really want his Nana to baptize him, but it's not the best thing for her.

So forgive me. I'm sad today. I'm feeling really put out with the not only the effects of cancer on the two women I love most in this world, but I'm really freaking pissed at how it's messing with our plans.

We have things to do, Cancer. There is LIFE TO LIVE. Why don't you just leave us the hell alone?

/pityparty

BlogHer Voices of the Year

In a couple of weeks, a few thousand million women will gather in New York City for BlogHer 2010. I won't be one of them this year.

I was lucky enough to go in 2007 and in 2008, but last year I chose not to, in lieu of a vacation with my family It was one or the other, and it's not any shocker which one I chose.

When I survived last year without going, it got harder to justify going back this year. Tickets sold out quickly again, and I didn't even blink at them. Plus, I am in love with the Type A Mom Conference and am definitely going back to it this year. As should you. Yes, you. There might even be a few early-bird tickets left.

I figure a laid back blogger such as myself really doesn't need more than one conference.

Then I found out about the Nestle sponsorship of BlogHer this year, and I was really glad that I wasn't going. I'm not too keen on them, and I was relieved not to be attending something where their presence was not only welcome, but where they would be paying to try and win people over to their brands.

HOWEVER.

My BFF and person I said I love most who isn't a family member IS going, and dadgummit if she isn't going to rock the whole conference. Especially the part where she raises her voice, reads her words, and wins the hearts of everyone in that room.

She has been chosen from 1000 entries as one of the BlogHer Voices of the Year. Wow.

I am SO proud of you, Susan, and I really wish I was going to be there in person to hear you, support you, and cheer for you. You are probably glad I won't be there though, because I would be the one doing the loud-ugly-sob-cry-of-pride the whole time you were trying to read. So I'll stay here and cheer for you from afar. You're welcome.

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.

Tips for BlogHer '09 from someone not going

This year, I'm sitting out BlogHer. It doesn't have anything to do with the conference - BlogHer is terrific. It's also terrifically expensive, and with me not working anymore, it's just not practical for me to spend the money on it.

With that disclaimer out of the way, I present, "How I Would Do BlogHer '09."

1. Even though you are there in person, stay online. You will likely miss something if you aren't checking Twitter. And use your hashtag #blogher09. Because some of us will be living vicariously through you, you know.

2. You are responsible for your own fun. Don't wait to be invited. Sit down at a table and meet people. Show up at a party and have a good time. Introduce yourself to the person next to you in a session. Don't wait on someone else. You do it.

3. Try to mingle. Even if you have a group of friends there, pick a meal to share with someone you don't know or someone you wanted to meet.

4. It's not about the stuff. The amount of product thrust at you can be overwhelming. Take what you want - what you can use, and leave the rest. You probably can't fit it all in your luggage anyway.

5. Don't take it personally. Any of it.

6. Some, okay, a lot of bloggers suck at small talk. Why else do we take to the written word? We can edit, mull, contemplate, and craft our words. All things you can't do at a cocktail party. When the conversation lulls with your newly made blogger buddy? Ask them about their kids. Or their pets. Or their roommate. There are always plenty of things to talk about if you are asking questions of the other person.

7. People are not their blogs. You only get a small glimpse of what they choose to share in their writing. Just because you've read their blog for three years doesn't mean you really know them. Take some time in person to meet them as a person and not a blog.

8. Wear cute shoes. Okay, so that's shallow, but I do recommend it. Just ask Amie, my roomie in '07. I think I packed a pair of shoes or boots for every hour of the day.

9. Don't feel like you have to go to everything. You don't. Sit something out and have a cup of coffee with a friend. An old one or a new one.

10. If something does cheeve you, don't write a blog post about it. Suck it up and review #5.

I hope y'all have a fabulous time. There is a huge part of me that wishes I could be there, and I will miss seeing you. There is also part of me, however, that is enjoying just watching y'all all scurry about and not having to be scurrying myself.

If you will excuse me, I have some more not preparing for BlogHer '09 to be doing.

Reconsidering the reasons

BlogHer, the conference, is something I assumed I would attend this year. I've been twice now, and it helps me give credit to what I do here, and here, and here, and here.

The first year I attended, I roomed with an amazing woman and got to hang with some super cool bloggettes. It was validating to be around so many great writers and to learn more about the craft and the business. I was inspired.

Then I got a little busy having a baby and all. There wasn't as much time to do the reviews I had been doing for Props and Pans. I got tired of always being down and dragging my blog through the muck. I kept up with it, but only half-heartedly.

By the time summer came, I was feeling a little better about things and Little Bird and I took off for BlogHer once again. We met my momma there, and she helped watch after Bird while I attended the conference.

Here's the thing. I didn't feel connected. Most of the people I knew and had hung with the year before were all attending outside events that I didn't know about and wasn't part of. It's hard to say that without sounding like sour grapes, and you certainly can't say it right after the conference or people get terribly defensive, and you get labeled a whiner.

I'm not whining, I'm just stating some facts. Facts that have been influencing how I look at blogging. Besides, what affected me was not that I wasn't invited to events, it was that I wasn't missed. As in, no one noticed that I wasn't there or included. I felt invisible. Plus, I didn't get to visit with the people I really wanted to visit with because they were busy. With these other things. Maybe invisible isn't the word, maybe it's just disconnected.

I've been doing this for a few years now, and I know that "canape" is one of those names that illicits the, "Oh yeah, I've heard of her," response. I also know that I have a small (but fantabulous) readership. I'm okay with that. I will not find my fame and fortune with blogging. I never intended to.

There are bloggers on every level who I consider friends. They are terrific women who I'm humbled to have personal relationships with. The thing is, they have their own circles of friends, so even though I have friends, I don't have a group of friends. I've had this issue my whole life. I can be friends with a jock, a geek, a freak, and a brain, but I never have fit in with the whole group of jocks, geeks, freaks, or brains.

I stand alone, in the end. Always alone at some point or another, but yet never forever. I'm working on learning how to be a part of a group. There are some women who have been schooling me in that for about 18 months now. It's a good lesson to learn.

In the meantime though, there is the question of BlogHer. It has come down to this for me:

• I am not ever going to do reviews for a living or on this blog.
  
• I will never have enough traffic to sell adspace here, nor will I be changing my writing style and content to make it so.
• While I love reading several different blogs, I have lost the urge to connect with every single blogger that I love in real life. I don't need to meet the musicians whose albums I love. It's become the same sort of thing.
  
• I have a bigger desire for the real life connections I make via the internet to happen locally. There are some amazing bloggers right here where I live, and I would like to cultivate relationships with them.
• For what it would cost me to go to BlogHer, my family could spend a week in the mountains.

That is the bottom line. Do I value networking and the possiblity of making a few more connections over giving my family some much needed time off together? Do I really think that I can accomplish enough at BlogHer to justify choosing it over a week off with my boys?

I just don't think so.

Having said that, I am not against going with a sponsorship. If some company wants to pay my way and have me wear their name plastered on my behind, that would be alright with me. I think the conference is a wonderful thing, and if I end up there this year, I would do some things differently.

I would be a little more outgoing. I would find out ahead of time what was going on and when, and I would get myself included. Because in the end, most of the events surrounding the conference weren't exclusive - getting left out is way different than being excluded.

We'll see. For now though, I'm going to book that cabin in the Appalachians and look forward to some quiet summer days with my family.

And I'm going to keep writing and reading. Because that's what this is all about in the end.

A little kindness goes a long way

Last year, I sat in the airport scanning the faces of women with laptops. Surely there was a way to tell if one of them was heading to BlogHer. I didn't get up the nerve to ask any of them like some people, but I was curious nonetheless.

This year, I did see a blogger on the plane from Atlanta to San Fransisco. One row up and on the opposite side of the plane sat Lawyer Mama. I made my way over to her aisle and leaned over the large man sitting beside her to tell her hello. At the time I felt a little rude, but after her post on flying etiquette, my guilt is assuaged.

She told me she was sharing a taxi into the city with her cousin (who I wish I could link to, but I can't find her). I had not traveled with a car seat, so I was going to take the BART. Stephanie offered and insisted to take my suitcase in the cab with them. I thought that I could handle it, but she was so kind to even think of asking; I let her. And man, was I glad I did. The hotel was several blocks UPhill from the BART station. I would have had a horrible time getting that suitcase up the hill while wearing Mr. Kickypants and also carrying the diaper bag and laptop bag.

I know she didn't think it to be a big deal, but I did. It was one of the kindest things anyone did for me all weekend.

That's the way I think of BlogHer. The kindness of strangers, who aren't really strangers because you either know them online or share enough in common that there is always a conversation to be had.

Someone else was above and beyond kind to me as well. Lara, who writes Notions of Identity, stepped into the pack of hyenas hungry to get their Zivio and got the rep to hurry one along for me. All because Christopher was getting really fussy in his sling, and I was having a hard time just holding a place in "line". It was a harsh crowd, and I was really getting swamped. Enough so that I had to turn around and tell some woman not to touch my child again and to stop pushing us. Ridiculous.

But in the midst of all of that was Lara. She probably didn't think it was a big deal either, but it was. She didn't know me, but she chose to help me. There isn't a lot of that mentality in the world. Those who have it still are true gems.

I didn't get many cards this year, probably because I didn't go but to two of the parties and didn't stay long. Knowing my mom and my son were back at the hotel made me want to get back there as soon as possible. A little linky love to those people I did get to meet and talk with even for just a minute. I enjoyed those minutes very much!

Andi at Poot and Cubby
Kat at LA Blogger Gal
Nina at Nina Moon
Leticia at Tech Savvy Mama
Lia at Freitas Family Follies
Kelcey at The Mama Bird Diaries
Becky at Miss Priss
Maggie at Magpie Musing

Why TNT isn't going to save the puppies

I came across some interesting comments yesterday while catching up on my blog reading. There were plenty of people talking about how they were avoiding Twitter or skipping posts that were about BlogHer because they weren't there and didn't want to hear about it. Some seemed to be saying it in a joking way, others not. You know how it's hard to tell sometimes what the intent is behind the written word.

What I found interesting was the sentiment that BlogHer was a giant waste of money, and if people had not gone, then poverty would have been eradicated. That all the money spent on parties and swag could have done so much good in the world were it not wasted on bloggers who wasted the money to go in the first place.

Of course the logic of this transfer of funds is quite faulty. To think that TNT would have sent several thousands of dollars to feed the children if we had all said NO to attending the party they sponsored is just cotton candy social justice. It wouldn't have happened.

They sponsored that party because they want people like me to tell you how much I like the show Saving Grace. And because they were so lovely and gave me some nail polish and a yummy sandwich, I'll oblige them. It's a good show, and I buy it off iTunes to watch because we don't have cable. End pitch.

It was tempting to leave a comment justifying my decision to attend the conference. Justifying the choice that I made with the money it took to attend. I didn't. And I won't attempt to justify it here either because it doesn't need justification.

Everyone has decisions to make with what they are given be it money, time, or talent. It's called stewardship.

We will never live in a world where people have the same amount of stuff. It doesn't work that way. We will not ever be equally beautiful. We will not ever be equally healthy. We will not ever be equally artistic. We will not ever be equally popular.

If people don't learn to be alright with that, then they are going to spend a lot of their lifetime being very bitter. If you ask me, that's a sad decision to make. But I'll respect it because I would like to have the same respect for mine.

My decision, by the way, is to continue supporting valuable organizations and people in need and attend conferences like BlogHer that enrich my life. Thankfully, good stewardship allows me to do both. For that, I am grateful.

Just to see you in the flesh

I don't quite fit in.

My mother agrees. Neither of us have ever quite fit into a group. We have friends, but not a group of friends. In fact, our friends tend to have their own groups, and then us. There must be some explanation for it.

It's not that I don't like my friends' friends. I do. They have lovely friends. It seems though, that I'm just not thought of in a group situation like that.

I'm not a joiner I guess. I don't get asked to join, and I don't seek out joining. I'm happy with my friends from all different groups. I wonder some times why I am that way, but I don't worry. Wonder, not worry.

This quirk of mine makes attending something like BlogHer a little tricky.

Last year, I let it stress me out. It bothered me that I didn't know where to sit for lunch because the 10 people I wanted to talk to were all at 10 different tables talking to several other women that I didn't really know. I didn't know how to handle it.

This year, I chose to not let it stress me out. I ran into people I knew and chatted with them when I could. I sat with people I didn't know and worked on getting to know them.

I chilled out.

It was so much better.

I think I had expectations last year that were unreasonable. I thought that these online relationships that I cherish so would blossom into real life relationships with honest to goodness friends who chat on the phone and what not.

Really, though, I don't think that is what BlogHer was all about. It didn't create stronger bonds with these women who I read and adore. It didn't turn my online friends into real life girlfriends like Susan.

What it did was give me an opportunity to simply bask in the realness of these women who are already an important part of my life.

I got to see Kristen's beautiful baby bump for myself.

I got to watch Slouching Mom hold my son and make him coo and giggle.

I got to skip a session with Kristie again.

I got to snark snark with my favorite angel, Mamma.

I got to share a smile in person with Jennifer who always makes me smile online.

I got to hug Jenny's neck and tell her I was so glad the seal lived.

I got to hang with a gaggle of DC Moms who I have fallen hard for because of their writing, but also because of their friendship with my friend.

I got to just mention to Amy that I saw her post about her flight and was sorry she had such a hard time. I didn't even need to introduce myself; it was just nice to say in person that I was glad she had made it.

I enjoyed just flitting around with Christopher, seeing whomever I happened to see.

I skipped a lot of the parties, wandered around alone a lot, and actually? Had a marvelous time, and am feeling quite recharged about blogging. I believe, that is the point of attending a conference in the long run, isn't it? The recharging?

Edited to add:
Once again, I hear in my head what I'm saying without having actually said it. My point should have been that getting to see the bloggers who I read and care about is a bonus. But blogging is an actual form of communication. I didn't start emailing personal notes to a bunch of people I met, nor did my phone bills go through the roof. I just kept blogging. Reading and writing.

So what I meant was that the friendships I've created have tended to stay online with the exception of getting to see people at BlogHer. Real life was just in contrast to online.

This of course does not apply to anyone whose house I have attended a BBQ at or whose daughter I have shared ice cream with.

I hope I got that right this time. I so loved seeing everyone. That is really the main point.

I have no idea what time it really is

Still here. San Fransisco is lovely of course. The weather is California perfect.

It's 7am and Christopher is in the middle of his morning nap. Because he woke up at 3:30am. Tomorrow, when our flight leaves at 6am, I will be glad that I stayed on Eastern time. Four hours ago, however, I was not enjoying it.

I have met some fabulous people and like last year, have a slew of new blogs to read and share here. And there are new ideas that are brewing in my mind. Things are exciting again, and that is the beauty of this conference.

For now though, I give you Mr. Kickypants in our new sling that was part of the amazing swag bag from the SVMoms Group. My stars, can those ladies get good stuff!

*Photo by Carla Duharte-Razura

Bye bye now

The bag is packed.

The baby is sleeping.

The phone is charging.

The alarm is set.

I'm headed to BlogHer in the morning, and I'm a little tired just thinking about the travel.

Maybe Mr. Kickypants, my momma, and I will see you there. If not, you will be missed.

Skipping the chit chat

I have a much different attitude about BlogHer this year. Last year, I considered myself a mere peon in the blogosphere. While I am still a mere peon, there are things I've realized over the past year that change my attitude about that peon status and how I will interact with people.

The fact is, most of us consider ourselves peons, and in numbers terminology, we are. I think that it's safe to say that most of the blogs I read get less than 500 hits a day. I know mine does. It gets around 100 per day. Of all the people reading blogs, that is a tiny tiny number. Of course, they are the 100 most intelligent, good looking people out there, but that's beside the point.

The next thing I've learned is that even bloggers who have hundreds or thousands of readers aren't any more confident in a real life situation than I am. Bloggers who I considered celebrities of sorts would have much preferred to be talked to like a friend last year.

The thing that has drawn me in about blogging is that you get to know people in depth. I've never been good at small talk. I would much prefer to sit down and have a real conversation with some one than to have to make chit chat. It doesn't matter if I've just met you, I want to talk with you. I want to feel like I know more about you at the end of a conversation. And that's what happens with blogging.

That very thing that I love about blogging makes meeting bloggers in real life a little daunting. Because chit chat is appropriate for a certain amount of time in real life. However, when you are meeting someone in person who's blog you've read, you know things about them that go far beyond chit chat. And if they haven't read your blog, then there's a disparity there.

I think though, that skipping a large part of the chit chat is just what I'll do this year. Last year, at one of the cocktail parties, I had a great conversation with Tanis. It was a situation where I read her blog and had laughed with her and cried with her - sobbed over my computer actually - reading about the death of her youngest son. When you have shared that with someone, it's hard to just stand there and talk about the weather. So we didn't. And it was comfortable.

It didn't happen that I made lots of new best friends that I talk to everyday and email all of the time. I still mainly keep up with people on their blogs and just see them in real life when I get the chance.

I think that is the part that I didn't quite understand before - real life is different than everyday life. Long distance relationships are hard to maintain. Blogging makes that easier though.

I'm excited about BlogHer. Both in SF and in Greensboro. Maybe even in DC. Because I know now that it's about meeting people, sharing ideas, and getting to share some of your own. And if you meet me there and want to skip the small talk and get to the skeletons, scars, and scrapes in my life?

Feel free. I'm looking forward to getting to know you.