What Happened to the Girl I Married? A Confession

I have always watched the Stay at Home Mom/Working Mom debate from afar, terrified to get in the middle, horrified by the anger and meanness that permeates the debate. And at the risk of fueling more of that anger I'm going to confess something here... Back when I was a clock punching, 9-5, “working” mom, I secretly and quietly always wondered one thing.

Seriously, what do stay at home moms do all day?

Now that I am a work-at-home mom, who is blessed with all day daycare for her two children, I have found the answer.

And so starts my latest Silicon Valley Moms Blog post, inspired by Michael Miller's book What Happened to the Girl I Married? Click here to read the rest of the post and the discussion that has already been started in the comments section. I'd love to know what you think!

A little secret about... my feet.

So yesterday I completely copped out and posted some ramblings and a picture of my new shoes. Considering the migraine that had been pummeling me for hours by the time I made it to my computer, it's kind of miraculous that I was even able to find the computer let alone type a few coherent words. Good thing I didn't attempt full sentences.

A few very kind souls commented on my super cute new shoes and my gorgeous toes, which leads me to the following somewhat embarrassing confession.

I don't have gorgeous toes. I have creepy non toenails. I just know how to hide them.

Let me explain...

See this picture? The one I posted yesterday?
Gorgeous toes, right?

Wrong.

Look closer:
Do you see it yet?

No? Well, I essentially have no toenails.

Really. No joke. Let me show you without nail polish.
I know! Gross, right? Be thankful I spared you the close-up of the little toe. Ugh.

Sorry. I hope you weren't eating. But now that you've gotten this far would you like to know how I go from stubby non-toenails to gorgeous peep toe sandal ready feet?

Easy. I paint on fake nails. Very tricky technique I discovered thanks to some very clumsy nail polish application one day. And that's how I pretend I have gorgeous toes.

Tah dah!

But that's just between you and me. OK? I'd hate for everyone to know my dirty little secret. I mean, don't you wish you didn't know?

Can't talk now...

Migraine...

Nausea...

Shopping...

$59 jeans seem positively cheap compared to $200 jeans.

Such cute outfits...

So ready for Tim Gunn.

Super cute shoes...













Time for some pie, because it fixes everything...

And time for bed.

Back tomorrow. Promise.

There's always something to feel guilty about

In 9 days I hop on a plane and head across the country, sans husband or kids, to spend three days partying, schmoozing, networking, and learning with some 1000 other bloggers.

I am looking forward to my time at BlogHer more than you can possibly imagine. There's nothing like spending that much time surrounded by like minded people, sleeping in comfy hotel beds, and chatting, chatting, chatting. It's like a long girls night out punctuated with tons of learning and growing.

So, as I said, I'm delighted and excited, but I'm also devoured by guilt and anxiety.

I'm not worried about the social aspect. I'm over that. (And if you're not and you're anxious about it, check out this awesome list of Commandments for BlogHer Success. Be sure to read the comments too!)

No. I'm worried about the money.

Last year when I went, a) in San Francisco so I drove, and b) I was still working and I had steady writing work lined up, so the finances weren't an issue. This year I've been freelancing for almost a year, that steady writing work turned out to not be steady at all, and nothing else has been much steadier. To say that I haven't earned much in the last year is putting it mildly.

So I feel pretty guilty to be skipping off into the sunset to go have fun at a conference on the other side of the country. It's a significant expense and I really don't feel like I've earned the right to spend the money.

I'm still going. And I'm trying to get over it, because it's going to be good for me on many, many fronts, both personally and professionally, but it's so hard to not worry about each and every dime that is going to be spent. And it's so hard not to feel guilty about spending that money. Especially since I haven't earned it myself.