This is Meghan. And yes, this is the only non-blurry photo I have of her – so deal with it, OK? It’s hard to take good photos when you’re more worried about your wine than setting up the shot.
She is one hard working lady. Not only does she run her own blog, she also has a family to take care of, and a business to run with her husband. On top of all that, she is the madam of AllMediocre, which is the place to be, in case you don’t know. She’s even convinced some AllTop members to consider defecting. Meghan has generously arranged to give away FREE STUFF all week long – not just for AllMediocre members, not even just for bloggers.
So head on over to AllMediocre to get the details on some fabulous prizes. Some time this week, a See’s Candies gift card and a pound of fresh, garden-grown, salmonella-free tomatoes will be up for grabs, donated by yours truly. There will be at least two giveaways every day so what are you waiting for? And speaking of procrastination, if you have a blog and haven’t joined AllMediocre yet, get right on that.
* Blogging business has officially been taken care of. Your regularly scheduled programming will commence tomorrow. I promise! *
Category: Life in general
Categories
New Friends
Put me in front of a huge crowd and ask me to speak on pretty much any topic, and I’ll rock the house. Public speaking is no big thang. Push me into the same crowd and tell me to socialize? I couldn’t come up with a coherent sentence to save my life. Which is why, upon meeting me, people often come away with the impression that I’m either a total snob or a freak. A freak I may be, but a snob I am not.
But if meeting new people is my kryptonite, alcohol is the antidote. Get a glass or two of wine into me, and there’s no shutting me up. I’ll share my life story and just about any personal information, if given the opportunity. It speeds the getting to know you process quite a bit.
That said, I’ve made some new best good friends here at BlogHer. It took me awhile, mainly because the wine didn’t start flowing till the evening hours. But I schmoozed just about anybody who fell into my line of vision at the Closing Party at Macy’s.
These ladies work at BlogHer, and I chatted them up when I noticed them behind these fab shoes. I didn’t get their business cards, darnit, and of course I can’t remember their names this morning.
Dawn Meehan and I discussed the practicality of some of the lingerie surrounding us. I think I also talked to her about my uterus. I told you my personal filter disappears.
As I refilled my wine glass, I met Dana Kavan from the Chicago Examiner, bumped into VDog, compared thrift store finds with Cat, and gushed over Christine‘s amazing sense of style.
This morning, I blogged side-by-side with Bossy in the lobby, her mac next to my pc.
Then Mocha Momma paid me the compliment of a lifetime by calling me fascinating, based on a tangent I went off on the night before on the Hmong community in my town. Because, yeah, I know an inordinate amount of information about their culture and could easily give a speech about it.
But for someone to call me fascinating based on a conversation I had in a new social setting? That, my friends, is a true testament to the power of wine.
Categories
Procrastination, Anyone?
I decided to be on top of things and pack for BlogHer today, even though I don’t leave until pre-dawn on Saturday. I couldn’t find my small suitcase anywhere. Finally, I gave up in frustration, and went about my day.
But then, I noticed something.
Whose idea was it to leave a whole bunch of clutter right in front of my sewing desk? And also? I think I set a procrastination record for myself.
Because, yeah, that suitcase is full of clothes that we brought back from our trip to Arizona. In May. They were clean, but now they obviously need to be washed.
You want to know the absolute worst part about the whole thing? Rather than unpack the suitcase and clean off the fur, I took a picture and got out a different overnight bag. No sense disturbing the cat!
Sweet baby girl. Here you are, snuggled against me as we rock in the dark. Your hand gently strokes my wrist while I sing you a lullaby. I watch as your silhouette rises and falls with every slow breath. You yawn, so I give you one last squeeze. I lightly kiss your cheek, lay you in your bed and cover you with your blanket. “I love you, baby girl,” I whisper, “good night”. As I close the door behind me, I hear you whisper back, “Ni-ni”.
How far we’ve come, baby girl. There was a time, not so long ago, that you would not allow me to cuddle you. Being still was not something you were capable of – suddenly, as if your insides could not rest. Most nights, you would strain against me, your body rigid for long minutes at a time. Your back would arch, your arms and legs would become as stiff as boards. Sometimes, I could not hold your flailing body and would place you in the only safe place I could think of – your crib. I would lie on the floor beside you, tears trickling down my face as you threw your tiny body against the sides. On these, our worst nights, you would scream for hours before finally lying still. Every few minutes your little legs would spasm and I worried, every time, that it was not over. How I would search you for bruises the next day, sure you were hurt.
Nights were our worst times, baby girl. All the smiles and laughter of the day were gone when darkness fell. But now, thankfully, your body can rest. Finally, I don’t go to bed feeling helpless to soothe you.
You are well.
** Blythe was suffering from an undiagnosed corn allergy. If your baby/child has similar bouts of hyperactivity, please go here for more information. Blood tests as well as scratch tests can be done by a pediatric allergist, to determine if your child suffers from corn allergy. **
I was watching my new favorite show, Swingtown, this past week, (Hey – don’t judge. It sucked me in like a train wreck and turned out to be quite thought-provoking) and was struck by Susan’s struggle to find, and express, her authentic self. As women who have dedicated their lives to their families, how easy is it for us (her and I) to lose sight of the person we were, the person we always thought we would become? And can the authentic self co-exist with the person our families and society expect us, need us to be?
I sometimes struggle to define my identity. I am a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend. The common thread among those terms is that they identify who I am in regard to someone else. Who am I when I stand alone, without being reflected by another person’s image? When I need to present an image of my authentic self, as Susan on Swingtown was trying to do by picking a wallpaper pattern, I don’t know where to begin.
So often we are defined by what we do for a living. It’s one of the first questions I hear, anytime I’m introduced to someone new. It makes me cringe, because even if it’s a woman who says she wishes she could be “just” a stay at home mom, too, the conversation usually centers around children… and that’s it. As if I am incapable of discussing anything besides poop and snot. These days, I can say I work at home, as well, and I’m given a pat on the back for “helping” my husband with his business. By being his “secretary”. Am I the only person who finds that word offensive?
I remember when Jeremy and I first started dating and he would introduce me to his friends. He was so proud that they all thought I was an intelligent, articulate woman they could enjoy having a conversation with. These days, when we bump into people we used to know, they can give me a once-over and immediately decide that “How are the kids?” is a safe question to ask. When did I become that person? As soon as my first child was born, or when I decided that caring for my children would become my profession?
Maybe my true self is a compilation of all the reflections I cast upon others, as I leave my mark on their lives.