Blissdom: It started with her.

On Tuesday, January 25th, I flew to Nashville to speak at and attend Blissdom, a Women’s Blogging Conference hosted by Allison Worthington, Barbara Jones, and Paula Bruno.

A few years ago, I was sitting in Alli’s kitchen, having coffee with her while my son was surreptitiously crayon-decorating her kitchen cabinet. We had several moments like this, two moms enjoying one another’s company, talking about motherhood, life, blogging, and dreaming of the future. These playdates were like therapy for me; each visit was a refill for my sanity. Girlfriends: Life’s Prettiest Meds.

Okay, maybe not always the prettiest. But definitely the most fun?

Back then she talked about wanting to do things on her website to help mothers, and women in general. Eventually, she shared that she dreamed of more than the blog; she wanted to go further, help more people, chase bigger dreams. During one of our visits, Alli asked me, “So, what do you want to do with your blog; what is your goal?  You want to rule the Internet, right?”  I didn’t have  dreams of Internet Domination, though, and I said, “Well, no… I really just hope that people will read and enjoy my content.”  Alli’s response?  “Oh, no no no, honey. We have to build a Kindgom!” She made me laugh, but I could sense her drive.

That was Alli – big love, big dreams, big plans.  Add in all her hard work, and it equals big success, and there she is now.  I’m so proud of her, and so excited to see her dreams coming to fruition.  She’s worked damn hard to make it from Mrs. Fussypants to co-hosting her own blogging conference, and she’s worked her arse off for it every step of the way. You know what she’s also done, every step of the way?  She’s kept the love, the genuine caring, and the desire to help others and support women a core part of her agenda and personality.

I had to say all this before I even start talking about the specifics of my trip. I saw her, before all of this Blissdom stuff, as a mom and woman, a girlfriend, in her home. I talked to her on the phone about her dreams, plans, and eventually – progress, while we also gabbed about daily life and motherhood. As months and years danced past us, making our children older and our hairs a little grayer here and there, we’ve floated in and out of emails, twitter @’s and Skype conversations. Alli is a friend, and someone I trust.

I can’t tell you how many times people have asked me, “Is she really the nice person in real life that she seems online?” My answer is always Yes. Is she perfect? Nobody is perfect. Is she flawed? Of course she is, aren’t we all? She’s not a “mean girl” or a ruthless backstabber. Alli is a genuine, kind person, and I’ve never seen her as anything else. I’m glad her big dreams and hard work have paid off for her. Walking into the Gaylord Opryland Hotel in Nashville on January 25th for the 3rd Blissdom Conference, I was excited about the week ahead, and, as always, proud of my former playdate partner and girlfriend.

In the coming week, I’ll post several photos from my trip (as well as some taken by others that show things I didn’t capture) and give you some of the highlights of the conference (from my experience), but I had to share this post first.

photo courtesy of Rachel at Southern Fairytale

Here Comes The Sun

Oh the roads we have traveled.  And oh, those we have yet to travel!  They stretch out before me in my mind.  They’re sometimes long and winding, but more often, lately, so straight and fast that I can see the endpoint like a sudden, bracing hug and it takes my breath away.  That place on the horizon where the road blisses out is bursting with warm sun, calling me.

There is so much going on right now, a flurry of to dos and plans and please let this work outs, that I can’t even begin to tell you about it all.  I want to tell you.  Of course, I will.  In just a little while.  My thoughts are racing along so far and so fast, ahead of me on that straight-shot road, being drawn to the place where my heart lies in wait.  When it all snaps together just right, I’ll calm down, take a deep breath, and let my fingers do the work of spilling the proverbial beans here.

For now, my feet are getting tangled under me as I dart this way and that in nervous anticipation and fervent getting readiness.  It’s quite a dervish of a whirlwind that’s whipping me around currently.

Luckily, in the breaks between spinning and racing and running around with far too much to think about and much, too much, to do, Braden and I have private dance parties to the music of The Beatles in our living room.  There is generally an abundance of giggling.  (You can dance really stupidly when there’s no one but a 3 year old watching, and it doesn’t matter.)  Often, there is falling down on the floor silliness to be had, as well.  And sharing a moment or two of just being.

Life, contrary to what you may have heard, is good.

But, on the real, I’m totally going ONE DAY, damnit.

So, lots of us actually reading things online today are “the ones who did not go to BlogHer Con.”

The ones who are going will probably be busy travelling to San Fransisco and settling in for the start of the conference on the 18th.

And some of us are jealous, and some of us don’t give a flying fart… some of us are crying into our keyboards, others are claiming sour grapes… some of us are blatantly pissed off, others of us are like, “eh? BlogWho?”  You get the idea.

I basically feel like this:  There are a ton of people all in one place right now who, for some reason or other, do this same thing I enjoy doing.  “Blog.”  Many of them do it for the exact same reasons I do, many have entirely different reasons.  A good handful of them are people I admire, adore even.  And lots of them are intriguing and interesting people I have never even been exposed to, but could meet if I were there.  I would like the opportunity to meet the people I adore, and those I could potentially adore.

I’m settling for pictures of them with a picture of my boobies.  What can I say.  I’m easily amused.

Money is the main reason I’m not there right now.  Ladies and Gents, that shit is expensive.  And, that is not to say that we don’t have enough in savings, finally.  Because we do, after kicking ourselves in our collective ass around here this past several months and scraping every extra penny into a savings account.

(Oh, hello, we can actually be responsible adults with a savings account?  Who knew?  Wow, John and Lotus are growing up! Congrats to them!)

BUT, and here’s where I might sound bitchy, I have to force myself to have some perspective right now.  To have some more sharply focused priorities than spending money to hang wif mah homies.  (This is in NO way a judgement of anyone else’s priorities – it’s about our specific situation - read on!)

I probably could have talked John into letting me spend the money in our savings on the BlogHer trip.  Not necessarily because I’m that persuasive and manipulative (*cough*) but because he loves me dearly and, to a fault, he tries to make me happy.  (The man changed out of his PJ’s the other night to go buy me ice cream, did you read about that on Twitter?  Clearly, a saint among mortals.)

But we have some lofty goals, like paying off my student loan (which I got so I could get that M.A. that I am so obviously using the hell out of right now, see? ugh.), creating a medical fund (hai, we have no health insurance, kthxbai), buying a larger family vehicle (Honda Civic not going to cut it if we ever actually succeed at having a second child), and actually having enough of a downpayment saved to buy a house again.  Because, I’m sorry, but renting sucks donkeys.

Those are big, bad, crazy dreams, my friends.  And we’d like to attain them in no more than the next 2-4 years.  Which, when starting with no savings, is pretty damn adventurous and hopeful.  But certainly not Un-Doable.

Not Un-Doable at all… With a lot of sacrifice of things not absolutely necessary, and a lot of forced prioritizing.

Which means no hanging wif mah homies that costs $1000+, no new camera, no lots of stuff I would really reee-heee-heeeeeaaaally like.

And?  It’s totally going to be worth it.  So, while I’m a bit jealous, that’s it.  I’m not uber upset.

(But once we have our house and ect., I am GOING to BlogHer, and I’m rooming with her and I’m absolutely licking her.)

I wrote this post because several people have been surprised that I’m not going to BlogHer Con, and asked me why.  Now ya know!

 

 

Just for a moment.

Sometimes you have to give in.  Sometimes you have to reach out.  Sometimes?  You have to do something just because your soul said, “Please, can we do this?”

Yesterday, we drove south for over an hour, on a whim, with a 15 month old in the back seat, just to look at something.  Just to touch it for a few minutes.  It was a Colonial home that was built circa 1900, on 10 acres.  We drove south for over an hour, with baby snacks and juice and diapers and songs like “ABC” and “The Itsy Bitsy Spider,” because it’s for sale, and my heart ached to see it in person.  Ached to stand on that old front porch. 

John humors me like that because he loves me.

I was so at home standing next to the bubbling creek on the property… looking out over the rolling hills into the blue sky… with nothing commercial for miles and miles and miles.  Just trees, bare of leaves.  For now.  But my mind’s eye could see their summer coats of shiny, green leaves, waving in the breeze. 

Grass under my feet… I could imagine the stark contrast of the white stars against the black night sky that would happen on that spot in hours time.  If I closed my eyes, I could see the garden I would plant on the acreage.  I could hear my son playing and splashing in the pond, with a big dog that we’d have. 

I wonder if John could hear the creak of the tire swing hanging from the tree in the front yard?  Or see me sitting under the shade of the magnolia tree around back, reading a book, as the tree burst with fragrant white blossoms over my head.  Maybe he could hear the birds singing, like I could.  Maybe he was lost in that moment, too?

I guess sometimes you have to let your heart dream so hard that you let it drag you for miles and miles just to touch something with your own hands, just for a moment, even if it means your dream will fall and break at your feet.

We decided that it’s just too far away from the town we need to be close to.   

So we drove all the way home again. 

Between the Colonial and our (rented) home we talked about desire and life and money and old age.  We touched on needs and hopes and the dreaded Practicality and Responsibility. 

We breathed in life, we breathed out patience.

Braden screamed and fussed… he laughed, sang, and talked.  He bucked, thrashed and complained, and at one point, he peed all over me. 

Then we drove the rest of the way home, and I had cold piss all over the side of my shirt. 

But I was happy.

When we got home, Braden ran all over the living room wearing nothing but a shirt and socks, laughing and screaming. 

With stars in our eyes, we watched him run to the curtains and twirl himself up in them over and over again, giggling madly as he fell to the floor, then jumping up to do it all over again.

We breathed in life, we breathed out love.  And it felt just right.

It was a great day.