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Mar 9, 2010

Seven Years

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On this day, seven years ago, I promised to forever love and be faithful to the long-haired hippie I met at the renaissance faire on a hot summer day in 1998.

I’m proud of the family we’ve created in spite of the struggles we’ve faced along the way. We may not always share the same vision for the future, but we do share a determination to find our own path. Together.

Happy anniversary, Aaron. I hope seven years is only a small fraction of the many years we’ll be granted to grow and love together.

Filed Under: Aaron, me me me, memories ·


Feb 11, 2010

Blissdom Musings

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So last week was filled with a road-trip to Nashville for the Blissdom conference at the Gaylord Opryland Hotel. Not only did this mean getting to catch up with so many bloggers I know and love, many of whom I consider friends, but it also meant several days away from work, bills, and the crippling stress I’ve been feeling lately. In other words: I desperately needed this trip.

First: the location was beautiful. The Opryland Hotel is too amazing to be believed. There is an indoor river, people. AN INDOOR RIVER. It’s like Las Vegas in Tennessee. And the conference had a lot of great perks, including a private concert by Harry Connick Jr. on Friday night.

There was also the unexpected perk(?) of the National Tea Party Conference also being held at the hotel that weekend, including a guest appearance by Sarah Palin. Despite my having vastly different political views from the tea party attendees, watching Catherine (Her Bad Mother) discuss political science with men dressed as George Washington and Paul Revere was worth the entire trip. (Drunk on glory, Catherine!)

I didn’t approach Blissdom this year like I’ve approached past blogging conferences. While I still cared about what I wore, I wasn’t frantically rush-ordering new business cards or thinking about what kind of swag I could give out to be noticed. My game plan for Blissdom was simple: have fun with friends, maybe meet some new friends, and learn more about blogging and/or myself.

I succeeded in my plan.

I laughed more in that half-week than I have in probably a month or more. I filled my days with friends and fun. After four years of knowing her online-only, I finally had the chance to hug Amy, aka Mrs. Chicken, in person. And in meeting her, I was relieved that she was everything and more that I expected her to be. Spending time with her was like visiting with an old friend, because at this point she is an old friend.

At past conferences, I was often more aggressive at seeking out new people and “networking” to build my blog presence. However, I’m burned out on networking for the goal of building a brand or blog audience or popularity or whatever is the current buzz word of the moment.

So I took a more laid back approach. I was happy to fall into conversations when it was natural. I loved being introduced to women that my friends already knew – in every case, I saw why my friends liked them and found myself liking these women in return. But I felt no need to force myself into a conversation, and most of the time I forgot to even give anyone my card unless they gave me theirs first.

(Also? I used up the few leftover business cards I brought with me. I will have to get more for the next conference.)

As for learning more about blogging? I did a little of that, too. While I was tempted to go to sessions on monetizing your blog and growing your readership, I instead decided to stick with the basics of how to write a good story and how to let my voice come through my writing. I think I’ve been fairly good at those in the past, but of late my story has been getting lost. I want to find that story again, somewhere in the fog of working night shifts and sleepless days. My own days aren’t coherent, and as a result my story is disjointed and fractured as well. I think finding my story again will go a long way towards my 2010 resolution/goal/whatever of finding happiness again.

Oh, and I also learned that I can get up the nerve to sing karaoke without a single drop of alcohol in me in front of a room full of women I adore and admire. That took a whole new level of bravery, but I’ll say I had a lot of fun and will likely do it again. (Thanks, Casey, for helping me get up the nerve to do it, and Mishi and Heather for joining me on stage!)

After the disillusionment I felt after BlogHer last year, I’m now looking forward to BlogHer 10. Blissdom, this smaller conference that reminded me a lot of BlogHer 06, helped me throw away all of the stress of jockeying for position with my blog and simply enjoy the community and friendships I’ve made along the journey thus far.

Blissdom was truly bliss.

Photo by Heather, Domestic Extraordinaire

Filed Under: Blissdom, love, me me me, memories, people who don't suck, sisterhood · Tagged:


Dec 26, 2009

Happiest Holidays

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To all of my friends and readers, happy holidays!

I hope you got everything you wanted this year. I can say with certainty that we did.

Cordy got to meet Santa, loving every minute with him and even interrupting others to go back and give Santa a hug after she opened her gift.


Mira received Thomas the Tank Engine trains, books and even underwear. I think she’s satisfied, don’t you?

Score!

Santa heard my plea and wasn’t about to let me be cut off from my ‘net:

Score!

And Aaron found out two days before Christmas that in the new year he will once again be employed. The new job looks promising, tapping into many of Aaron’s talents, and I hope it will be both interesting and fulfilling for him.

All in all, I’d call it a successful Christmas.

Add to it a lot of good time spent with family, an enormous (and delicious) meal this afternoon, and a lot of excitement, and you can see how Cordy ended the day like this:


What about you? Any good presents/stories to share?

Filed Under: Cordy, family time, holidays, memories, Mira ·


Nov 16, 2009

Firsts – The Tooth Fairy

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I remember when I lost my first tooth. I was five years old, and I didn’t even know it was loose. I went to my babysitter’s house after kindergarten that day, just like any other day, and was greeted with a typical peanut butter and sugar sandwich. (Seriously, she sprinkled sugar on it. She was an old woman – let’s not question her grasp of nutrition, OK?)

The sandwich was quickly devoured and my kool-aid was gulped down so I could watch afternoon cartoons. I must have laughed at something on TV, because my babysitter gave me a strange look and said, “Honey, open your mouth.”

I had no idea why she was asking me to do something so odd, but I complied. “Did you lose a tooth yesterday?” she asked.

“No. They were all there when I brushed my teeth this morning,” I replied.

“Go look in the mirror, sweetie,” she instructed me, grinning. I’m sure I huffed as I got off the floor to go to the bathroom, irritated at leaving my beloved cartoons behind. I’m sure I thought she was nuts, since I had no dramatic moment of feeling a tooth fall out. Shouldn’t I feel a tooth dislodge?

Standing on my tip-toes, I peered across the sink into the old, cracked mirror and slowly opened my mouth. There, in the center of my bottom row of perfectly aligned teeth, was a dark gap where a little pearly white tooth should be.

I was stunned, and my heart started to pound hard. Where was my tooth? When did it disappear? And most importantly, WHAT WAS I GOING TO TELL THE TOOTH FAIRY?

I don’t remember what exactly happened after that. We figured out that I must have swallowed my tooth when I ate my after-school snack. I vaguely remember a mix of glee and horror, happy to have hurdled across another milestone in the journey of growing up, but worried that swallowing a tooth could somehow hurt me, and frantic that I was going to miss out on a payday from the tooth fairy.

It wasn’t the ideal First Lost Tooth experience, although I believe the tooth fairy was understanding of my situation. (And for the record, my mom was NOT sympathetic enough to look for when the tooth came out the other end. My first lost tooth was never recovered, and I can’t say I blame her for that.)

But I’m happy to say that Cordy did not share my first lost tooth experience. When she had dental surgery this summer the dentist warned us that, based on the x-rays, she was likely to lose a few baby teeth in the next year. The roots were shortening and her permanent teeth were beginning to form underneath.

About two weeks ago I noticed one of her teeth on the bottom looked out of line with the rest. When I wiggled it, I discovered that it was completely free in the back and just hanging by a tiny piece in the front. I expected a tooth fairy visit in the next day or two, but that tooth kept holding on.

Then the other night, while eating a chip, Cordy paused with a confused look on her face, reached into her mouth, and then handed me her tooth, shouting, “Mommy, I lost my tooth!” Apparently my child chews her food better that I did at five years old.

She put the tooth into a pouch, placed it under her pillow, and the tooth fairy replaced the tooth in the pouch with several coins for her piggy bank, along with two activity books. Cordy was thrilled.

Of course, further examination of her mouth reveals that the tooth fairy better not go too far away. Her permanent tooth is already coming in to that spot, and it’s larger than the space available, now pushing out the tooth next to it.

What is the going rate for a tooth now, anyway? I’m hoping she doesn’t ask at school. And if her permanent teeth are anything like mine were, we’ll need to start saving for orthodontia now.

Filed Under: Cordy, growing up, memories ·


Nov 3, 2009

Perspective

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When I was a teen, growing up in a small Ohio town that I considered (back then) to be backwards, small-minded, and too confining for me, I dreamed of getting out of there and living a grand life. I had no idea what I wanted to do, but whatever it was, it was going to be exciting, it was going to open my world to new ideas and cultures, and I would never look back. Life would be one new experience after another.

It was also during that time in my life that I never planned to grow old. (I also was in my “Kids? NEVER!” phase of life.) No, I didn’t mean I was going to find some fountain of youth – I actually thought that I would die before I ever had the chance to crack a wrinkle on my face. Growing old seemed uninteresting, and losing my vitality and my ability to keep up with the world was my greatest fear. Instead, going out in a blaze of glory while I was still young was far more appealing.

Let’s not forget that, as a teen, 30 seemed old.

After I graduated high school, I didn’t have quite the exciting life I dreamed up in my room at night. But I did do some cool things in my late teens and early 20’s. I went to a university where I met people who were vastly different than those from my small hometown, and I did open my mind to new thoughts and ideas. I dyed my hair every shade of red imaginable. I spent a summer in England, almost refusing to go back home at the end.

I drove really, really fast. I conquered my fear of heights and did a bungee cord free-fall. I became a modern-day pseudo-hippie and joined the cast of a renaissance festival for nearly 10 years. I still had the motto that life was short and I wasn’t planning on seeing old age.

And then I found a man I loved, and we married and had children.

The teen me never expected that part.

Now I’m in my thirties, with two young daughters, and I can’t imagine that life I dreamed up when I was younger. I’m more cautious now. I still drive fast, but only a little over the speed limit, and less so when the kids are in the car. I care about things like nutrition and I see my doctor regularly. I stopped dying my hair when I was pregnant and haven’t really gone back since. Surprisingly, I think I like the somewhat-routine life I’ve shaped in Columbus, Ohio, even if it is a little boring at times.

But I’m still struggling with the idea of aging. Part of the problem is I still feel like a teen at times. I’m still (mostly) in touch with pop culture: I listen to pop music, I love The Vampire Diaries, and I think I’m a pretty good texter. When someone looks to me as a voice of experience, I’m always surprised because I feel like I’m still the inexperienced one in all things. It amazes me to realize that teens now are closer to Cordy in age than they are to me. High school was half a lifetime ago. Wow. It doesn’t seem that long. I can’t really be in my thirties, can I?

As for dying young – are you kidding me? I have a family who needs me! I have two little girls to raise! At this point I’m trying to live to at least 100, if not 150!

This morning I opened a box from the mail and found a sample of anti-aging face cream. As I examined my face in the mirror, I knew I’d passed the imaginary “old” line that I drew in the sands of time as a teen. I have small wrinkles around my eyes now, probably from excessive laughing and never wearing my sunglasses. My skin is beginning to sag at my jawline, excess from my years of never turning down a pizza party or going to get ice cream with friends. My tweezers can no longer fight back the white hairs sprouting from my temples. (OK, those I blame entirely on my children.) And let’s not forget those damn dark hairs I have to pluck from my chin and neck – where did those even COME FROM?

Truth is, I am the person anti-aging creams are aimed at. Not my grandmother, or my mom – ME. And it means I’m growing old. Those who know me in person know I’m not exactly vain – I’m about as low-maintenance as they come. I rarely wear make-up and I don’t spend a lot of time on my appearance. However, I now understand why these creams and potions are so popular. I don’t want to wrinkle, I don’t want to slow down, but most of all, I don’t want to acknowledge in any way that I’m creeping ever closer to old age and the end of my days. (Even if that time is a LONG, LONG, LONG way away.)

While I dislike getting older, the thought of not being here at all scares me far more. At this point in my life, I’ll do whatever it takes to live longer and be healthy enough to be here for my family. Forget exciting and adventurous – watching my children grow and learn is far more fulfilling. I’ll take reading books to my kids over backpacking in the Scottish highlands (nearly) any day now. I expect to be there for them through all of the challenges life throws their way. My family has given me an entirely new direction in my life.

I’m glad the life plans I drew up as a teen never materialized. I like being a mom and I appreciate my normal, often-not-exciting life. And while I may not like the wrinkles and what they remind me of, there will always be anti-wrinkle cream for that, right?

Edited to add: Now that I’ve written about how I always feel like the inexperienced one, David Wescott tries to prove me wrong honors me by naming me as one of his female role models. Considering the amazing women I’m listed with, I can only say thank you and I hope I’ll continue to prove that I deserve to be among that group.

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Filed Under: me me me, memories, more than parents ·