Today in bullets. Because I suck.

Things I have done today.
- blown my nose a million and one times.
- lamented the itchy, scratchy, painful skin under my nose.
- let my kids watch way too much TV while I lay on the couch waiting for some energy to miraculously appear out of nowhere.
- lamented the fact that the Charlotte's Web movie that we checked out was not the original movie, but the remake.
- lost over an hour of my day watching Charlotte's Web.
- blown my nose another million and one times.
- met a couple deadlines. Yay!
- cooked my husband and children a home cooked meal.
- realized that my baby will be 2 tomorrow.
- rushed both girls to Target at the end of the day to buy some presents for a certain almost 2-year-old.
- Panicked about how to make her birthday special despite a complete and utter lack of planning on my part.
- marveled at how lucky I am that my girls get along so well and love playing with each other so much.

Things I have note done today.
- bought lotion soft tissues for my poor irritated nose.
- met the rest of my deadlines. Boo!
- any laundry whatsoever.
- wrapped my daughter's presents.
- spent more than 3 minutes talking to my husband.
- replied to a bunch of important and time sensitive emails.
- spent nearly enough time cuddling and loving on my daughters.

Thing I will not be doing today.
- going to bed nice and early so that I can recover from this cold and make my baby's birthday super special.

A big pizza pie... that's amore

I'm not sure when it happened, but all of a sudden dinner with the girls is less about damage control and more about actual chatting and eating. Until now we had usually restricted evening dining as a family to the occasional dinner out or the even more occasional dinner in with friends.

It bothered me that we weren't eating with them every day. I mean, every study hints that if you don't have dinner as a family your kids become serial killers or something equally dire. The girls have breakfast with M every morning, but the dinner thing irked me.

Now that they've matured a bit beyond the wild animal stage we're actually entertaining the thought of having family dinner night a couple nights a week. We started tonight and I roped in the girls to help me make it.

To the strains of a very hoarsely sung (my voice isn't quite back yet) When the Moon Hits the Sky, Like a Big Pizza Pie... That's Amore... we made a pizza. Which we decorated with all the basil I was able to salvage from the girl's basil eating contest. Which is only ironic because I had to pick the cooked basil off their pizza. But whatever...

Mmm. Sauce.
That mommy had to skim off because there was so much of it.

Mmmm cheese.
Lots and lots of cheese.
There was no need to skim.

Look at that pride!
I could eat that for dinner.

Two little girls and their pizza pie.

And then we skip to the post dinner book reading.
Because when the pizza came out of the oven we devoured it.

Happy Love Thursday my friends. May your day be filled with warm pizza and sweet babies in pajamas.

BlogHer - (almost) final recap, because enough already

I could go on and on and on about BlogHer, rambling for weeks about a conference that lasted all of three days, but there's already so much about it all over the blogosphere and frankly I think I might need to move on. You know, if only so I can unpack.

That said, there are quite a few things that I wanted to touch on, so I'm going to attack it all Amalah style and go with a nice long bullet point list.

1- The issue of the wifi

I'm sorry, but if you have been informed that you will be hosting 1600 bloggers in your hotel, and you promise free wifi, it shouldn't be too much to ask that the blasted Internet connections work! It's not rocket science.

I was at BlogHer as a liveblogger. My job was to take copious notes during the sessions that were assigned to me and upload them every 1 minutes so that people in other sessions could peek in and see what was going on. During my very first session everything went well until I tried to upload the first 15/20 minutes. Then the wifi crashed, taking with it my post.

I spent the rest of the hour frantically taking notes in Word, trying desperately to get back online, and texting the volunteer coordinator to ask her what I should do.

It wasn't pleasant.

And that's pretty much how the rest of the weekend went. So, dear hotels, especially the Sheraton, when bloggers descend, you might want to consider beefing up your wifi. Just a thought.

2 - The grabby horribleness

I can't tell you how many women went around saying that they had just come to BlogHer for the stuff. To them I say: Get a grip. Or figure out your priorities. Because if you came just for the freebies, then you could have taken the $600 or so that you spent on your weekend in Chicago and gone on a kick ass shopping spree. You would have gotten everything you wanted and cleared the air of the nasty, grabby, envious, jealous air that you poisoned the rest of us with all weekend.
Oh, and also, grow up. If you'd been a toddler you would have spent the weekend in time-out.

3- The support and the love rocked

Do you know how amazing it is to meet someone and have them gush about how cute your girls are or how much they love your writing? It really doesn't get much better than that.
I loved seeing bloggers meet for the first time and hug like they'd found a long lost friend. It embodied what the blog community means to me.

4 - I make no money with my blog and that's so much more than just OK.

No doubt this deserves a whole post to itself, but oh well.

I earn no money with either of my blogs. OK. That's not true. I earn a couple dollars a month. Nothing that's going to help pay the bills. I could bust my butt and find a niche and write posts chock full of SEO terms, etc, etc, etc. But, uh, I don't wanna. So there.

I want to keep writing what I want without worrying about how it'll make the search engines react. I started this blog as a space to express my innermost thoughts and a place to work through my days. It's going to stay that way, even if it means I'm unpigeonholeable and uncategorizable, and, oh yeah, completely and utterly unlucrative. (And I make words up. Because I'm cool like that.)

5 - People don't always look or act the way you'd imagine

I have blog friends who don't know me because I read them, but don't really interact with them. I have twitter friends I chat with every day. I even have virtual friends I IM with on a regular basis.

This weekend I got to meet, and hug, quite a few of those. And uh. Well, it was an interesting experience. Some of them weren't the age I expected to be. Some of them spoke faster, or slower than I expected. Some of them were bigger, or smaller, taller, or shorter than I had expected. I'm not saying any of it was bad or good, I'm just saying it's fascinating to meet people and realize they look nothing like what you had expected them to look. It takes a bit of adjustment.

Also I wonder how I didn't match up to people's expectations.

6 - What I learned

Well, because I was liveblogging I didn't get to attend all the sessions that I wanted to attend, so I learned a lot about writing Op-Eds, which I have about zero desire to do, but uh, if you're a woman and you're into that, go for it! It's a very male dominated field and it could use some great female perspective.

Women have a tendency to undervalue themselves. And we should stop. Also, women don't tend to think they have any expertise in any field. We should stop that too. We're all experts in something.

Social Media can work for you. You just have to be smart about how to use it. Check out the popular posts on Social Bookmarking sites to figure out which one will serve your blog best.

If you want to see transcripts for all the sessions click here. And if you search around the BlogHer site I bet you can find video of the sessions too.

There's one more thing I want to cover about BlogHer, but it will have to wait because this cold isn't getting better, it's getting worse, and I need to go sleep some of the fever off so I can make sense when I do tackle that last topic.

BlogHer - What's the future?

Once upon a time, when there were just a handful of women blogging, the BlogHer conference was a perfect place for those few to connect. They needed to know they weren't alone. They needed to geek out with other women who understood their language. They were strengthened by their community. Even if they blogged about radically different things, the "women doing it" common thread was enough to link them tightly together.

Now that blogging has gone mainstream things are changing.

Last year I still felt the need to mask where I was going when I left for BlogHer. I told my friends and coworkers that I was going to a writer's conference. They knew nothing about blogging. Or maybe they knew just enough to be suspicious of it. I didn't want to be scrutinized, looked up, and judged on my words, my thoughts, my daily outpourings. And I really didn't want to have to face that blank stare of complete and utter incomprehension.

But why would you blog? Why would you let the whole world into your head? Isn't it dangerous? Aren't there crazy people online?

Now everyone has a blog. My friends and ex-coworkers all know about my blog. And for the most part they don't care. (Except for the few awesome ones who are faithful readers!) There are fewer blank stares. Less need for long explanations. And really, no longer such a need for a conference where the only common thread is our sex and our hobby.

Last year I met a wonderfully diverse group of women bloggers. One blogged about movies, another about food. There was the girl who blogged about politics and the one who only talked about travel. It was amazing to connect with people who expressed such different opinions and thoughts through the same medium. It felt great to be by their side as one of the early adopters.

This year I didn't meet too many bloggers who lived outside of the Mommyblogging sphere. There were too many sessions. Too many options for self segregation.

I missed that feeling of belonging to a larger community.

But at the same time I understand the evolution that is taking place. We are too diverse a community to all be held under one roof. Especially if the numbers keep growing.

I really feel that we're almost at the point where there's no need for BlogHer to be a conference for all female bloggers. I think that we're almost at the point when it could be about topic or affiliation, not genre. It'll be BlogHer for the Mommy bloggers, BlogHer for the Foodie bloggers, BlogHer for the Politcal bloggers, BlogHer about Social Networking, BlogHer for those who just want to blog for fun, BlogHer for those who aspire to make a living from their craft...

When you expand the attendee list you create more space for self segregation. A small group of women who are all focused on a different topic can still find common threads they hadn't expected. A large group of women has more trouble connecting, it's just too easy to stay with your tribe and not venture out. And that's when groups start to feel marginalized or even ostracized. And when marketers push their way in, focusing on the largest group, it exacerbates the separation.

Last year I loved the homey close feel of the conference. This year I was overwhelmed by the amplitude. Strange as it might seem, you can connect better with 999 other women than you can with 1599. I felt guilty to be one of the people PR reps were anxious to chat up. I felt sad that I couldn't find a way to reach out of my group.

I don't know what the solution might be. Kick out the sponsors? Then none of us could afford to go. Keep the attendee list to a minimum? Then you'll frustrate the sponsors. Restrict the number of speaker sessions? Maybe, but with the large numbers the sessions would be unwieldy. Keep the session topics as inclusive and diverse as possible? Maybe, though it's hard to find topics that interest everyone.

I love my mommy blogging friends, both the real ones and the virtual ones. I always have fun when I hang out with them and this weekend was no exception. It's just not what I headed to Chicago to do. I think that next time I'll have my expectations adjusted, or maybe I'll just try to find smaller conferences where I'll experience those connections that I so loved last year.

BlogHer - Home safe and sound, if a tad tired, to say the least

I have so much to say and so much to think about, but it's so hard to think straight after days of short nights, endless chatting, and uh, yeah, maybe more beers and wine than I'm used to drinking.

I'm hoarse. I'm tired. I'm a bit bleary eyed. But I'm also thrilled and filled with stories and insights I want to share. Only, you know, I'm exhausted and a bit cross-eyed, so it might have to wait a day or so.

I really want to tell you about

• how much BlogHer has changed, even in the course of the last year.
• how brutal it is to not be able to rely on technology. Especially when you need to rely on technology.
• how phenomenal and interesting it is to finally be face to face with people you've been virtually acquainted with for months.
• how horrible and grabby and mean a large group of women can be.
• how supportive and awesome and loving a large group of women can be.
• my take on the swag* debacle.
  
• how happy I am to be exactly in the space/place I'm in.
• how much I relish being recognized,
• my take on the "mommy bloggers marginalize other blogging communities" debate.
• my hopes and goals for for coming year. Which doesn't really have anything to do with BlogHer, but lots to do with the fact that I'm nearing the 1 year anniversary of leaving the 9-5 world.
• Oh, yeah, what I learned.
  
• so much more... but I can barely keep my eyes open, so instead I'm going to leave you with this picture, which kind of sums up a lot. And I'll be back with the rest tomorrow.
  

Unicorns are magical creatures who fill everyone with wonder, awe, and a bit of fear.
Strange myths surround them. And maybe a lot of misinformation.
Kinda like bloggers.
Except for the cake part.
Bloggers aren't made of cake.

*For the uninitiated - swag = free promotional stuff given out at conferences and events.

BlogHer '09 Day -1

After getting up at the crack of pre-dawn this morning, getting to the airport, possibly, maybe, I'm not saying, cutting in front of a million coffee hungry people in the Starbucks line, I met up with one kick ass tweeter at the airport gate and a couple awesome bloggers in the plane.

We arrived in Chicago in record time and then took almost as long to get to the airport. But that was so fine because it was all chatter all the way.

I've met so many fun faces and seen so many new people. It's been just a taste of the rest of the weekend.

There's been some major ugliness in regards to swag hording and grabbing. Stuff that has soured many BlogHers and shed some unflattering light on others. But I have to say that, as I sit in my hotel room chatting with my sister and no swag in sight, I'm fine with it. This weekend isn't about swag and hyper promotion, it's about the people, the bloggers, and the community. We just have to keep reminding ourselves of that.

Tomorrow more shmoozing and lots and lots and lots of live blogging! Stay tuned!

And I'm OFF! BlogHer here I come. Aka, watch out Chicago!

By an unprecedented miracle I was fully packed my 3pm this afternoon. I'm usually a last minute crazy packer, so I'm not sure what happened there. Probably forgot everything and will have to walk around wearing two different shoes.

So, if you're going to be there look for me, I'll be the one hobbling around.

What? You want more details?

OK, fine.

Click here to learn my back story.

And here to learn 100 random facts about me.

I'm going to be there hyping a brand new unbelievably exciting project that I've been working on for months and that I can almost announce to the world. Almost as in the final touches are being hammered out as I type.

I'm also going to be telling people about an AWESOME new site that I just discovered called Cozi. It's going to make all your lives much easier next year. Trust me. Check it out. And download the screen saver. It's too cute for words. Oh, wait, it's only cute if your pictures are cute. But it's still way cool.

Seriously? That's still not enough?

You want a picture?

OK.

I kinda look like thisexcept without the serious look and slightly crazier hair.

Or kinda like this...
but without the little barnacles.

See you there!

Ten reasons I'm going to BlogHer this year

10. I have now spent at least a million hours editing and re-editing and re-re-editing my business cards. At this point it would be a crying shame not to show them off.

9. Because I want to get a couple nights of uninterrupted sleep this year. (Plus, it's my birthday, so the timing is perfect.)

8. So I can spend a weekend with my sister! I don't think we've ever spent time together away from our respective and collective families. Is that weird or do only TV sisters hang out all the time?

7. So I can run up to bloggers like Amalah and Mir and make a complete and utter fool of myself. Then stand back and watch 10 other women do the exact same thing.

6. For the swag. Duh.

5. Because it's been over 6 months since my last Dunkin' Donut's strawberry frosted donut. And that's just way too long.

4. So I can meet countless blogger and Twitter friends that I know really well, but don't actually know yet.

3. So I can meet new bloggers and expand my blog reading horizons.

2. So I can learn something. I'm Liveblogging some sessions I would never have chosen, so that should be interesting.

1. For the camaraderie and that feeling of being a part of something huge and powerful and fun. Blogging is definitely becoming mainstream, but it's still awesome to be surrounded with people who really truly get it.

One door closes and another one opens

I called him, he didn't call me. He was never the one to initiate calls really. This time though it was a bit different. It was around 3am where I was and there was no way he would have ever called at that time.

I was taking a chance, a gamble that he'd be home between trips, between errands. I was homesick, lonely, tired, and yes maybe a little lovesick. After all, he was my boyfriend. It wasn't so crazy for me to want to talk to him. I had been on the other side of the ocean for over three weeks and we had spoken barely once since I had left.

Twenty minutes later I was still homesick, lonely, and tired, but I was also sad. Sad because my boyfriend, who had been my best friend before we started dating, had just told me that he loved me, but wasn't in love with me, and even though he would have rather told me face to face, he didn't want to make me wait until the end of the summer.

Happy birthday to me, I thought as I hung up.

I wanted to be devastated. I wanted to be heartbroken. But fact was he was always a better friend than boyfriend. I was the one who prompted the whole love vs in love debate and I knew which side he'd fall on long before he figured it out. In the end the loss of his friendship was the saddest part of the whole situation.

As sad as I was that night I am grateful that he freed me then. It was a crappy way to do it and a crappy time to chose. But thanks to him I woke up the next morning determined to make the best of my summer in America. I vowed to meet a ton of guys and enjoy myself - consequences be damned. The very next week I attended a party thrown in my honor, both to celebrate my new-found freedom and my birthday. Which is where I met M, and changed the course of my life.

Who knows where I would be today if I hadn't giddily picked up the phone in the dead of the night to say hello to my boyfriend. If I had called two days later would he have dumped me? Would I have missed him? Would I have waited all summer to hear him say goodbye in person shortly after I returned home? Would I have met another Frenchman and given birth to little French babies? Would I be working on a novel written in French? Who would I be? Who knows?

One night. One minute. Ten years ago, almost to the day. I lost a friend and found a life. One door closed and another one opened and I stepped through it into the life I know today.

The lump on my baby's head

It's OK now. She's OK now. But for a moment this afternoon I wasn't convinced that would be the case.

It started with a ton of crying. Not Little L's tears. M.J.'s tears. But really that's not true either. It started with a fun afternoon at the beach. After which we decided to clean up in a hurry and grab a quick dinner before heading back over the hill to our respective homes.

C chucked her sippy cup towards her suitcase and somehow hit M.J.'s head instead. She buried herself under a couch cushion, devastated to have hurt her baby friend. M.J.'s parents did their best to comfort their inconsolable, very tired baby. M and I were running around cleaning. And Little L? Well, I don't actually know what she was doing.

We all heard the thunk at the same time. When you have a gangly 4-year-old and a rambunctious almost 2-year-old there are always a lot of thunks or thuds. After a while you know which ones are worth investigating and which ones can be ignored. The dull, hollow sounding thunk this evening sounded very much like a head hitting something hard. Hitting something hard, hard. Something like the sharp edge of a plaster wall.

M reached Little L first, gathering her up from her prone position at the base of the wall. I got there a split second later, pulling her into my arms even before the first wail worked it's way out of her throat. Her eyes stretched wide open and circled madly as she opened her mouth to let lose and I waited, holding my breath.

The amount of time that wail takes to come it directly proportionate to the extent of the injury. This wail took forever and a year. By the time her ear splitting shriek pierced my eardrum I was looking for blood.

I didn't find any. Instead I found a lump on her forehead that was growing horrifyingly in front of my very eyes. I'll admit I might have freaked. I yelled for M to get me some ice. I couldn't stand to see that bump grow any bigger. It just didn't seem possible that at some point the skin wouldn't burst open and I really didn't think I could handle that.

Once some ice had been applied I busied myself trying to look deep in Little L's eyes. I'm no doctor, but I know that when it comes to head injuries the big things to look for are weird looking pupils, vomiting, and excessive sleepiness. Little L had no desire to let me look into her eyes. She was very focused on snuggling as closely as possible and fighting the ice pack. I didn't give up. Neither did M.J.'s mom.

We both started intently at her pupils which reacted fine to the light. No vomit spewed forth. And despite having skipped her afternoon nap Little L didn't seem all that sleepy. Her complaints that the ice was too cold were crystal clear despite the pacifier firmly lodged in her mouth. And after a while I had to relax my hold on her for a moment and concede that there was probably no serious damage.

She danced and sang all the way home, ate her dinner, and chatted her way through her bed time routine. Now she's sleeping sweetly in her crib. I'm the one who's still shaking and feeling nauseous. You never know what you're going to get when you hear that thud. I know all too well that we were unspeakably fortunate that Little L's run-in with the wall turned out to be just another bump.

Weekly Winners - Finger painting fun!

It started with an innocent enough request for paint. What could be better on a warm Saturday morning with no plans and no obligations?

Well, knowing the kind of mess that painting usually leads to I can think of many things that would have been better, but the girls looked at me with such hope and longing in their eyes that I conceded.

It started out neatly enough. Two girls, two paint brushes, two palettes, and two sheets of paper. What followed was so perfect that I grabbed my camera and scored my Weekly Winners shots for the week.

I bring you... Finger painting fun.

First it's just one hesitant finger...

A couple more fingers join in the fun.

And the true potential of the medium dawns on the artist.

Her sister takes this painting stuff much more solemnly.

So Little L tries a paintbrush too.

But she didn't quite grasp the point.

It does look like fun, so C throws caution to the wind and joins in.
She's not quite convinced...

A second later and she's right on board.
Sticky high fives all around!

Once the concept of paintbrush has been discarded,
it's only a moment before the paper is forgotten too.

But it's hard to be mad...
she's just too happy.

Happy weekend everyone! Be sure to visit the other Weekly Winners participants to see other great pictures.

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.

Peach pie fixes everything... right?

It almost goes without saying that Little L was up at 11, 4, and 5 last night. But then she slept until 7:15 which was nice. I think. I'm not sure. I was pretty tired at that point.

So it makes complete and utter sense that on my way home from picking up the kids at daycare after a long day playing catch-up with my two page to do list I would be struck with the urgent desire to turn some of our fresh, home grown peaches into a pie.

Well, duh, right? Don't you make pie when your eyes feel gritty from exhaustion?

OK, fine, maybe it wasn't the smartest undertaking, but I sure hope the following pictures will demonstrate just how tasty an undertaking it ended up being.

Seriously. Don't these just scream "PIE!"?

Made my own crust.
In the Cuisinart, because that's why it exists.

I got the recipe for the filling at the Food Network.
Then I added a bit of this and that.

Tah dah!
Peach Pie filling!

And a lattice top.
Which was totally going to be real lattice,
until that got old. Very, very fast.

You'd never know,
right?

And topped with some whipping cream,
you'd never care. Right?

I may be tired, but my belly is nice and full of peachy deliciousness. And if she doesn't sleep well tonight, well there's always more pie for tomorrow.

Sleep glorious sleep

I know that one isn't ever supposed to blog this stuff. It angers all the wrong powers that be. But really, what happened this weekend was so monumental that I really can't keep it to myself.

This weekend Little L slept.

I mean, doy she slept. She often sleeps. But she rarely sleeps all. night. long.

The last two nights she went to bed (without a fuss) at 7:30 and woke up at 8.

8!

This is the kid who is usually up by 6:45. And sometimes at 5 before that. And sometimes 11, or 12, or maybe 1 too, you know, just for good measure.

But this weekend there were no night wakings. None. And she woke up after C both mornings and after me on Saturday! That's just unheard of.

And to what do we attribute this amazing streak of sleep filled nights?

Uh, well, we have no clue.

We were at the beach for the weekend, so it's possible that the sound of the ocean lulled her, but every other night that we've spent there has been a sleep disaster that usually ended with her in our bed.

Both days were action packed and fun and ended with a hearty meal, some serious cuddling, and our usual evening routine. Like every other day in our lives.

She had the same naps she always does. The same stuffed animals. The same milk. The same pacifiers. Same. Same. Same. And same.

We're back home now and I have no delusions that the streak will continue. Troubled sleepers don't turn over a new leaf over night. In fact, just to prove that my fears were founded, Little L had a hard time settling down tonight and I have no doubt she'll be up sooner rather than later.

That's OK though. I had two blissful nights of uninterrupted sleep, which were great while they lasted.

Weekly Winners - Summer has finally arrived

Last weekend we stuck around at home instead of heading over the mountains to the beach. So, for the first time this summer, we were able to break out our brand new inflatable wading pool.
It's very cute and the girls wasted no time stripping and diving in. Then they jumped right back out because the water was frigid, but an hour or so later they were back in and in they stayed.

Well, mostly in...

The cute pool has flowers that spray water.
This was more or less well received.

It's one way to fill a cup.

Mommy was very attentive during all this splashing around.

And daddy was distracted with the gorgeous peaches.

We finally got them out to go celebrate America's birthday.
This too was more or less well received.

We never saw fireworks.
But balloon animals are clearly just as awe inspiring.

And make quite the trophy to cart home.

Happy Weekly Winners. I hope you enjoyed my selection of pictures and that you'll head over to Sarcastic Mom's site to see other fabulous shots.

I did it. I finished the first draft.

I didn't type 'The End' because it still needs more work. The end has definitely not been reached. But in my head, and on Twitter, I shouted DONE!!!

Yes, all caps and with multiple exclamation points.

Because the first draft is done. And that's a pretty damn impressive accomplishment if I may say so.

Done. Done. Done.

Done. Saved. And printed. Because I had to see it all printed out to really believe it. And because it'll be easier to start the review and edit process. And I can use the pretty pens that I bought when I was at Office Depot printing out the first draft of my novel.

I find it hard to fathom that I managed to reach deep down enough to be able to write a whole book. 266 page of my prose, my story. A story that still needs work, but a story with good strong bones.

I never thought I'd have en endurance and the perseverance needed to push past the many hurdles I encountered along the way - not the least of which was the constant fear of digging deep enough to write the harder, more conflicted scenes. If I'm really honest, I thought it would end up like the last couple novels I attempted - barely started, hidden in some deep file folder in my computer, nagging at me at odd moments of the day and night.

But no. There it sits in it's generic Office Depot box. Proof that I can sit down and go from start to finish. I have a vague notion of what needs to be fixed, altered, added - a mental list created before a single reread. I have sheets of notes taken along the way that I want to make sure are incorporated. Months of work waiting to be done. A whole other marathon of endurance waiting to be started.

Now that it's printed and snug in its box a part of me wants to say "Phew. Let's leave it there. Let's move on to the next undoubtedly better one." But another part of me, a small but very vocal part, is hopping up and down squeaking, "But what if it is good? Or at the very least better than you think? Doesn't this one deserve some editing attention? Doesn't all that time invested in a dream deserve to be honored?"

I'm listening to that little voice and the call of the pretty new pens. In a week or so I'm going to crack that box open and start reading on page one. I won't stop until I get to page 266 and colorful notations cover each page.

Major novel progress

It's not quite June 30th, but today I hit 80 000 words (82 002 if we're being specific) and I'm exactly one partially written scene away from being done writing the first draft of my first novel.

Yes, the one I keep whining about.

It might be a hair premature, but tonight we're celebrating my accomplishment. Cuz I said so. With this:

It just seemed rather appropriate...

I'll be back tomorrow. After I finish that last scene.

Wordless Thursday - The toddler and the bra

Mommy does this every day.
Can't be so hard, right?

There!

Oh, wait. No.

Ah! That's better!*

* I might have helped. Shh. Don't tell!

Books and cuddles before bed

"Come, let's leave C and Daddy to finish up in here. We can go read a book!" I inject as much excitement as possible into my last sentence in the hopes that it will lure Little L away from the potentially very messy goings on in the kitchen. (Peach crumble is yummy. Clean and pajama'd toddler covered in flour and oatmeal is not.)

To my great relief she is won over by my enthusiasm, grabs my outstretched hand, and pulls me towards the living room. All too often the bedtime routine is rushed or late and we don't have enough time to really enjoy a good pre-bed read. Tonight we have a little time and I plan to make it count.

"What do you want to read?" I ask her as we pick our way through the toy strewn room.
She only has to think for a moment before answering."Dinosaur."
"You mean the Dinosaur and the binkit book?"
"Yep!" She nods her head frenetically, almost toppling herself over.

I crouch down in front of the bookshelf and hunt around for the little book, but it's nowhere to be found.

"I can't find it baby. What else should we read? How about the potty book?" She nods frenetically again and climbs down from the couch where she has just painstakingly settled herself. She comes squat next to me, mimicking my awkward stance. She points to the Sleepy Cat book lying by my foot, then riffles through the shelf until she finds What Shall We Do With the Boo Hoo Baby?, another favorite.

"Hoo hoo baby." She says definitively as she climbs back up onto the couch and settles herself snugly in the crook of my arm. She loves to sit right between me and the hefty armrest, pulling my arm tightly around me. The feel of her warm snugly body and her soft fleecy pajamas makes me smile. I hug her tightly to me and, resting my head on hers for just a micro second, ask her what we should start with.

She considers the pile carefully then asks for the potty book, but as soon as I pick it up she changes her mind and demands the Boo Hoo Baby instead.

She has reached that stage where I can no longer skip pages or words; she follows along attentively, not missing a moment of action and echoing, or even preempting, my words on some of her favorite pages.

I can hear M and C working together in the kitchen. It feels snug and safe. A family enjoying each other at the end of a long day. In a few minutes we will give in to the flurry of pre-bed activity - tooth brushing, sippy cup filling, pacifier hunting, and goodnight hugging and kissing. But right now there is a moment of timeless peace. Them in the kitchen, we in the living room. A family in perfect harmony.

"The baby said, 'Boo-hoo-hoo,'" I start, pulling my baby close to me as she settles her head on my breast. I settle myself more comfortably on the couch and continue with the sad tale of the baby who couldn't be appeased.

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Thank you to everyone who placed a vote in the BlogLuxe Awards. Words cannot convey how grateful I am to have such loyal and supportive readers. I may not have won the award, but with all of you around me, I'm definitely a winner anyway.

Sunday Scribblings - Human

I want to breathe in deeply. I crave a lungful of air, but no matter how hard I try I never seem to be able to fill my lungs to capacity.

It's not asthma or some other lung disease.

It's anxiety. Pure and simple.

Anxiety has got my chest in a vice grip and it's just not letting go.

Now I'm no stranger to anxiety. I think it's the bane of anyone who happens to care a lick about anything. But usually I can pinpoint what is causing my chest to constrict, figure out how to fix it, and then fix it.

But I've been unable to take a decent deep breath for well over a week now, and there are actually times when my chest hurts from all the pent up tension, but I can't figure out what is causing the anxiety so I can't fix it.

Odds are it's the book. Or rather the eternal fight between the "will I ever find it in me to finish this book" and the "why bother, it's no good anyway."

Or maybe it's pure and simple fear that not only do I not have it in me to finish this book, but I won't have it in me to accept that it might not be any good and that I have to put it aside and forget the months that I spent on it so I can focus on the next one, which may or may not be better.

Or maybe it's BlogHer and the expense associated with this weekend that I've been looking forward to for just about 12 months now.

Or maybe it's just money, pure and simple. Or rather lack of money because after almost a year I'm still not making the kind of money I need to make to keep this family afloat. And the guilt I feel about that deserves it's own set of lungs to choke.

Or maybe it's a combination of all of the above, which doesn't bode well for my ability to make it all stop already.

I know that there are any number of pills that could help me relax, but I'm obstinate in my refusal to take any. I just want to figure out what is actually wrong, fix it, and get on with my generally quite happy life.

Seriously. This is not depression. This is not a long term thing. This is me being human and reacting to a slight overload of stress and very high (self imposed) expectations. I'll be ok. You know, as soon as I figure out how to breathe again.

This post was inspired by my mounting anxiety and by the Sunday Scribblings prompt Human. (And yes, I know this was a stretch. What can I say... I'm only human.) Be sure to click through to read other great entries!

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It's the last day! Gak. Last day to vote in the BlogLuxe awards! You'll find It's my life... in the Blog I've Learned The Most From category where you can cast your vote once a day until July 6th. I'm not above begging for votes. Please? Pretty please? With sugar on top? I'll pink puffy heart you forever and ever and ever! Honest! I mean, I already do, but I will even more!

Friday Flasback - Recipe for a perfectly lovely 4th of July

Friday Flashback is all about bringing to light some of my favorite posts from my archives to breathe new life into them. This is in honor of the fact that we plan on doing the exact same thing tomorrow. Summer really is grand. This was originally published in July 2008.

Recipe for a perfectly lovely 4th of July

Take a warm sunny day. Mix it with no plans until the evening. Pull out a fun little inflatable kiddie pool. Fill said pool with water, add kids, watch them splash and have fun for hours. Sit in chair under brand new garden umbrella purchased at the 'Holy Shit We Have To Set Out The Back To School Crap Tomorrow' 4th of July Sale at Target. Drink a beer or two with good friends while sharing a pack of really stale graham crackers. (Hey! Never said I was gunning for Hostess of the Year.)

When the kids are all pruney and slightly purple wrap everyone in warm towels and sit a while longer in the sun. Then dress the lot of 'em and bundle everyone into the car and head over the hills to grandmother's house for burgers and hotdogs. End the day with lots of rambunctious family time; playing with cousins, dipping toes in the pool, rolling down the hill, and stuffing faces with brownies and grilled meat.

Then drive home a sleepy crew and tuck everyone into their beds, worn out from the fun, happy and secure in the knowledge that tomorrow we get to do most of it all over again. Summer, thy name is bliss.

Happy 4th of July everyone. I hope that you were all able to enjoy some quality time with your family and loved ones today. And maybe that you got a little brownie or watermelon.

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There's still time to vote in the BlogLuxe awards! You'll find It's my life... in the Blog I've Learned The Most From category where you can cast your vote once a day until july 6th. Thank you!

First class ticket to the Terrible Twos

If I had been in any denial that in 30 days Little L will be 2, tonight blew away any lingering delusions.

First let me start by saying, TWO? She's going to be TWO? How is that even possible? And how is it possible that I'm still not sleeping through the night consistently?

Now let me tell you about the tantrum of the year.

I have one simple dinner rule: you don't have to eat it, you don't have to like it, but you do have to taste it. One bite. You can even spit out that bite, I don't care, not as long as the food makes it past your lips just once.

I've even figured out the no hassle, no stress way to get my kids to do just that. First I ask them to give the bite a kiss, then a lick, and finally a tiny bite. They're girls, this usually works.

Note how I said usually.

Tonight Little L decided that the only way her popcorn shrimp (which she usually eats without a fuss) would only pass her lips was if Hell froze over, chickens flew backwards, and I managed to pry her mouth open with a crowbar. Needless to say, she didn't take her bite.

I was actually fine with that. She's the one who wasn't fine with the no cookie consequence.

She howled when I took her out of her highchair. She howled when I carried her to the bathroom. She howled while I filled the bathtub. She threw herself on the floor and pounded her fists and feet on the floor when I tried to pull off her clothes.

She screamed when I put her in the tub. She screamed while I shampooed her hair. She screamed while I washed her body and then rinsed her hair and body.

She went back to howling when I pulled her out and wrapped her in a big towel and only took a little break when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Then she started up again as soon as we moved away.

She screamed and thrashed her way through my attempts at putting a diaper on her clean tush and then fought even harder when I started to put her pajamas on. Putting a wetsuit on an octopus would have been easier.

By the time she was dressed she was still screaming, but begging to be put to bed. I happily obliged.

But did that end the tantrum? No! Of course not. An hour later she was still screaming about the damn cookie that she wasn't allowed to have after dinner.

I almost caved. Heck, M almost caved. But really, enough is enough. With those huge blue eyes and adorable curls that kid gets away with murder. And tonight I just wasn't willing to let her win.

I did however take pity on her after a while and went in to comfort her. I picked her out of her crib and held her little sobbing body against my shoulder. She nuzzled her sopping wet face into my neck and murmured something I didn't catch. I asked her what she had said and listened closely.

"I wanna cookie. Jus one cookie." She whispered into my ear.

Over an hour she screamed for that one cookie. A cookie she would have taken a single bite out of before abandoning it for a toy.

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Thank you for getting me past 100 votes! Swoon. I pink puffy heart each and every one of you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
There are four more days to vote in the BlogLuxe awards! You'll find It's my life... in the Blog I've Learned The Most From category where you can cast your vote once a day until July 6th.

From the Mouths of Babes: Undeniable logic

It's a small play structure. Nothing exciting. Just a plastic yellow slide, a rickety ladder, and a crooked swing. But as we passed it C gasped.

I could hear her thoughts and her desire. They filled the car. But before she could voice them, reason kicked in.

"Oh. It's a really nice slide. But we can't go on it. I don't know the name of the people who live there."