Buying a Car

Can you believe at 43 I've never done this on my own? It's kinda freaking me out.

As some of you know I'll be a 'shuttle driver' at BlogHer next week. Hopefully you'll be watching for this car:

Unfortunately I can't get as many of you in at a time as I was hoping, but it will have that new car smell, right?

Cross your fingers for me, because otherwise you'll all have to be calling a taxi, while I'm hitch hiking to San Diego...

BlogHer '11-The Essentials

This year will be my fourth BlogHer Conference. I've learned a few things and I'm happy to share!

The Basics:

• Make plans to meet your roommate/best blogging pals before you go in to the ballroom/breakfast area on the first day. It will be jam packed and with 3,000+ attendees you'll never find anyone. Meet first and go in together.
• Alternately, it's totally ok if you go in alone. There will be plenty of other people that are sitting alone or looking for someone to sit with. Introduce yourself, give your elevator pitch, then ask questions. This is a networking conference. Use it. (Honestly. I follow some awesome bloggers that I never would have found if it hadn't been for the previous 3 conferences.)
• If there is someone that you really MUST meet, connect through email or Twitter before you go and make plans to meet. Concrete plans. I have missed the same person all 3 years. No Lie. (I'm looking at you, Pauline.) Don't let this happen to you!
• Take your business cards and exchange them with people. For the love of God, please make sure you give one to me. I cannot remember everyone I meet. I iz getting old. Giving me your card guarantees a blog visit from me in August and a mention on my People of BlogHer post.
• Look over the session schedule before you go. (I've only made this mistake once.) You should have an idea of what you'd like to learn about before you get there. You can, of course, change your mind, but having a basic idea is helpful. Believe me, your head will be swimming with information and knowing a little ahead of time will ease the crazy.
• Don't sit in a session that you're hating. It is NOT considered rude to get up and leave. Since sessions are not repeated you should change sessions if there is another going on at the same time that you're interested in. You paid for your ticket; get the most out of it.
• Take notes. I can't type fast enough to keep up with all of the speakers so I make sure I have an notebook with me. It helps. A lot. It also keeps me focused on the speakers because if I have my computer open I'll often check Twitter or Facebook instead and miss something funny or important.
• Conversely, if there is not a session that you're interested in during a time slot, don't feel obligated to go. Use your time to 'recharge' yourself and your gadgets in your room, chat with friends, get a coffee or glass of wine, visit the Expo Hall, or get outside. The weather in San Diego is beautiful and I'm certain it will be cooler than where you live. Enjoy the sea breeze and fresh air!

What to pack:

• Casual outfits for daytime: capris and tops, or casual dresses are perfect. Like everyone says, be comfortable. 
• Evening changes are optional but can be totally fun. I mean, who has regular occasion to wear these?
  

  

  Sarah's Awesome Skull Heels, BH'10 (Goon Squad Sarah)
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

• Wear what makes you feel good and confident-whether it's dressy, business-like or casual. There will be plenty of people in all of it, so wear what makes YOU happy. The rest of us honestly don't care. 
• Related: Every year I have packed an outfit for every day and one for every night. I end up only wearing what I put on in the morning because I'd rather visit with people and continue having fun than take the time to go upstairs and change. Lesson: one extra outfit is fine, more than that is TOO MUCH.
• Make sure to pack an extra bag. No, really. You'll get plenty of shopping bags, swag, etc., but what you WON'T get is an extra suitcase to pack it all in. It is cheaper to pay your airline for an extra bag than paying to have it shipped home. Hit the mall, (or ask your friends,) and find a duffel bag that is sturdy enough to check. Pack it flat on the way there, then you can stuff it full of all of the fun stuff that you'll get at the conference!

Things I've found you DON'T need to pack:

• notebook 
• pens/pencils
• water bottle (Often there more than one sponsor company that are handing them out, plus there are refill stations.)
• attitude

Let me know if you're going to San Diego. The best part of the conference is meeting everyone that usually lives in my computer!

A sampling of my previous BlogHer Conference posts:

Why I'm Going to BlogHer (08)
Getting to Know Me, BlogHer 09
(Add Witty Title Here) (10)
People of BlogHer: 2009, 2010

Interesting

I find it quite odd...

• that someone who won't talk to me in 'real life' reads my blog.
• people are freaking about Amy Winehouse. She was a junkie that refused help. Even her mother said it 'was only a matter of time,' which, to me says that she tried to help her. Yes, it's sad but quit freaking out already.
• that I was called out on Twitter for saying just that.
• that my kids aren't (yet) screaming about wanting to go back to school. Usually by now they're killing me with "I'm bored." Double edged sword, ya know?
• people talk about how they want to get together more often yet never call. 
• that I have lost my glasses inside of my house. Prescription sunglasses, FTW!

Myself

After 2 weeks of vacation, a week of company, and a veg-out day yesterday, I finally feel like myself today. (Which, of course will even improve when I take a shower, wash my hair, and shave my legs tomorrow morning. You know, cause you asked.)

As much as I hate to have to do the whole 're-entry' part of exercising after laying off for, oh about 6 months, I know that I feel better. I've been doing my usual, about 3 miles, while my #2 is doing football conditioning. I hate it for the most part but after a go-day like today I'm glad I did it. Stretching is helping the foot situation. I haven't seen any results on the scale yet but that will come. See, football starts 5 days a week next Monday, so rather than just 2 days, I'll be walking/running 5. Hopefully those 10 lbs. I 'found' this winter will lose themselves again. Pesky little buggers.

I'm really finding it hard to believe that there is only 2 1/2 weeks left before the kids start school. Like I said the other day, there is so much going on that I can hardly see straight. August will be even worse. And, so much for any summer projects. I've gotten virtually nothing done. Maybe fall will be the charm?

The kids have had an awesome summer. Scout camp, friends over, swimming with friends, vacations (plural!) I hope that they remember this summer as fun, because it mostly has been. I remember back to June when #1 kept saying "Mom, I'm bored," and my response was, "Hey, enjoy it now because come July we'll be so busy that you'll wish you were bored." I was right!

As much as I dread school starting, and it feels like it came WAY too fast, I know that I'll be ready for the routine again. I'm not looking forward to homework and having to rush to football every night. Believe me. Routine will be good though, and we have a couple of weeks to ease into it.

So, yeah, I'm totally feeling like myself again. Hi, Me! Nice to see you! (I mean Me. I mean.... Oh, whatever.)

We

These last few weeks and months I've been awesomely reminded of how incredible it is to marry your best friend even if I didn't know it at the time. Thing is? HD and I largely dated long distance, decided very quickly that we would marry. We've had some rough patches, (not surprising,) but what makes my heart sing is that every stinking day it's even more clear that we are truly made for each other and we grow stronger in that love every day and with every season. (Cue the cheesy violin music now.)

Since I'm a girl, and girl drama can follow us around like a shadow whether we want it to or not, I'm so thankful for a man who truly knows me. He listens to me and somehow gets to the crux of the situation and is willing to call bullshit. (Sometimes mine, sometimes theirs. That's ok.) I cannot tell you how helpful he has been lately when the crap is flying. He sees things pretty clearly and gives great advice.

We are (thankfully) on the same chapter of the parenting manual. We have different tactics, yes, but have the same goals. We have such symmetry when it comes to the kids that is actually comforting. He is a great example to our kids of working hard to get to where you want to be. Have I ever told you that he dropped out of high school? (He may kill me for putting that out there on the internet. Oops.) He found an industry that suits him to a T, proving that sometimes a degree from the School of Life can be just as beneficial as a degree from the University of Wherever. A lesson worth listening to in today's economy.

He stretches my mind, engages me, tests my beliefs. He listens when he doesn't know; teaches what he does, connects those in common.

This is the type of guy that you want to be the father of your daughter. He and HG have the best of relationships, can talk about anything, laugh at everything. He, through respecting her intelligence from a young age, has taught her that nothing is 'over her head,' nothing can't be tackled. He tells her she's beautiful, yes, but also engages her brain critically and values her opinion. That has taught her that she is worth more than her gorgeous figure, bright smile and engaging eyes. Much more. And that she shouldn't settle for less.

For our boys the lessons are endless. He models how to treat a woman. He models how a man is the head of the household. He is compassionate and God-fearing. When one of the boys treats me badly he tells them, "You will not treat my wife like that." He is tender and loving when they need a soft place to land. He is rugged and teaches the lessons of the land that he learned from his father: the excitement of catching a fish, the quiet lullaby of a mountain stream, and the hypnotic, reflective crackle of a campfire.

When I get tired in the evening (night owl that I am,) I am able to relax in our bed, comforted that he is next to me. I honestly never sleep better than when he is next to me. I sink in to my pillow, reach out and touch his back; a soft sigh of recognition. I often don't remember anything else until I hear him stir, before the birds even, to rise and start his day.

We.

We just are.

Summer

...is kicking my butt.

Busy June, (but not nearly as busy as July,) vacation for 2 weeks, out-of-town visitors. Upcoming scout day camp, football practice, church camp, BlogHer!

And then? School starts. Literally the day after I get home from BlogHer.

BuhBye, Summer.

Vacation Shots #3

For 3 days in a row my boys got to go fishing in the local creek/lake. The local chapter of Trout Unlimited stocks it every year and has a free fishing event for the children-poles, bait, nets, and volunteers that teach and help the kids. (Keetha, I can totally see Fisherhubby doing this!) (Although, the trout at this particular catch were not nearly as big as his! Yikes!) Even my nieces got in on the action and HD taught the oldest of the girls how to gut, prepare, and fry them! The kids caught 7 fish the first day, 7 on the second, and on the 3rd they released everything since we already had so many. Fried fish for dinner on 2 nights of vacation. Free dinner, FTW! (The trout looked really small but were surprisingly meaty. And HD can fry a mean fish.)

Thanks to the Evergreen Trout Unlimited chapter for an unforgettable 3 days on the lake!

Vacation Shots #2

Rockies v. Royals, July 3, 2011.

This game was quite a contrast from the last time we were able to see the Rockies play. We left in the top of the 6th inning because of 1) the awful heat, and 2) the awful performance of the Rockies. When we left it was 12-8, Royals, and the Rockies ended up losing 16-8. Where are the Rocks of April that were kicking some NL a@@?

Still, a bad day at the ball park trumps a good day doing housework.

Vacation Shots #1

This is what greeted me on my first day 'home' in Colorado. Yeah, it sucks to be me.

Happy Birthday, Suebob!

I want to wish my friend, Suebob a superbly happy 50th birthday!

Laurie and Suebob on the Kodak Bus Tour, August 2010

I have met Sue a few times and I adore her. Well, everyone does. You only have to look around the internet today to see that. She is honestly one of the nicest people that I've ever met and I can't wait to see her again in San Diego in August. Please make sure to visit her and wish her a happy day!

Please also check out her blog. She has been doing the coolest thing leading up to her birthday. For the past 50 days she has highlighted 50 charities that she believes in. All that she has asked to get for her birthday is some exposure for these organizations and maybe a few donations. Please donate if you feel so inclined!

So, happy day, Suebob, and here's to many, many more!

(Thanks to Laurie for reminding me of this. My vacation brain would have totally forgot and that would have sucked. You can also visit Karen Sugarpants for links to more birthday wishes for Sue.)

Cat in the Basket

This is another amazing guest post. This time from the unequaled Liz of This Full House. At least someone understands that I need a vacation. Thanks Liz!

What? You don't have one of these?

In my next life, I want to be a cat. Just, not MY cat, because, well, he’s used up 3 of his lives,
already and, well, you know.

The point I'm trying to make (and yes, Kendra, I really do have one) why do cats always seem so
gosh-darned relaxed?

Unless, there's a dog around. Or, kids. Oh, and maybe something BIGGER that can, you know,
eat it, well, that WOULD be REAL bad.

Seriously, look at my cat, snuggled safely into one of the many, many baskets scattered
throughout the house (what, I've got O.C.C.C. - obsessive compulsive collector of crap, okay?)

What was I saying? Oh, yeah (I'm old, okay?) seriously, just take one look into his big greenish
eyes (go ahead, I'll wait) don't they just SCREAM what IS your problem, right?

I guess what I'm trying to say, here (btw, if you are still reading, there IS a special place in
heaven for those who humor debilitatingly dork-ish folks, like me, I swear!) just look at him, go
ahead, I'll wait.

Honestly, his only function, at the moment, is to indulge in doing absolutely nothing and I bet
you dollars to donuts that WE (i.e. human, more specifically, parental unit types) should be
allowed a moment, to ourselves and just be...for JUST 5 blessed minutes...right?

Go ahead and find a chair (or, basket) somewhere to curl up in and just tell everyone, “I am
grooming my inner-cat!"

That SHOULD get them hauling tail, out of the room, pretty quick, and gain you AT LEAST 5
minutes of peace and quiet – in theory, anyway.

In the meantime, thank you for humoring me, Kendra and for allowing a dork (like me) the
chance to spend these last few minutes, all curled up in my favorite chair, with you and your
beloved readers (yes, even YOU, way in the back, I love your hair!)

Oh, and before I forget: Frankie says, “You ALL look absolutely fetching,” by the way!

Author’s note: okay, so there is NO such word as "dibilitatingly" (but, dagnabit, there should
be) and my cat’s name is NOT Frankie (it’s Bucky and, well, close enough) however, fetching
IS my new favorite word and consider its use, in this particular instance, quite appropriate, if
Frankie could talk, for real!

It's me again. Don't forget to give Liz some love over at her blog, This Full House. Liz, I can't wait to see you next month!

Fireflies

I am so honored to share this post with you. My good friend Heather agreed to guest post this while I'm on vacation, and you'll be so glad she did. It's amazing. Please visit her and give her lots of love!

I sat outside last night, and the strongest feeling of nostalgia came over me as I saw two little girls running, catching fireflies. Giggling, chasing each other around as their little sundresses fluttered in the light summer breeeze, their curls bouncing behind them, I was taken back to one summer of my childhood…

“Give me a jar, Mommy,” I said, breathlessly, as I ran in, the heat radiating off my cheeks.
“Why?” she asked, as she turned around from the stove, the aroma of blueberry pie wafting throughout the house.
“Cause Courtney and I are chasing flireflies and I wanna catch ‘em, ” I said, tapping my feet impatiently. At 7 years old, fireflies were the essence of magic. The glow could mean the most important wishes could come true, once fireflies were caught, according to my best friend Courtney, and I had plenty of wishes that needed to come true.
“I don’t have any jars, hon. Will this work?” she asked, handing me an old cottage cheese container.
“You can poke holes in the top, so they can breathe,” she said, seeing the frown appear on my face, and knowing the question that was forming on my lips.
“Okay, thanks Mo-” I said, the screen door slamming as I ran out the door, and onto the sprawling golf course to catch up with my best friend who was patiently waiting for me.
We started to run together, holding hands, laughing and giggling as the sky streaked with violet and blue in the background, the cool grass tickling my bare feet, the back of my sundress hitting my knees, as I ran in circles trying to catch each flickering firefly, every last one for every last wish in my head.
“Courtney, how many are we supposed to catch?” I said, as I stopped, and waited for her guidance since she was, afterall, the expert at firefly catching.
“As many as you need to make all of your wishes come true, I have plenty,” she said as she plopped down on the hill a few feet in front of me. I ran over to her, carefully holding my makeshift firefly holder, and sat down next to her.
“Okay, so here’s what you do,” she said, with a bossy tone, “you make a wish and let each one go. You only keep one, and then in the morning if it’s dead, then none of your wishes will come true. If it stays alive, then all of your wishes will come true. So I’ll do mine first, ‘kay,?”
“Okay,” I said, quietly. I listened to her make her wishes, and thought pensively about mine. Most 7 year olds wanted a new bike, a pretty doll, or a new playhouse. Courtney wished for a mom that stopped drinking “Mommy juice” all the time. She wanted a Mommy that would play with her.
I set my firefly container down and held her hand tight as we let each one of her flireflies go, hoping and praying with everything we had, that something would change.
“Your turn,” Courtney said, quickly, as she shut her container, one lonely firefly left to glow on it’s own.
“I wish, ” I started softly, as I felt the tears start to well up in my eyes, “I wish for no more yelling. I wish that my Mommy would stop yelling at me. That Kevin would stop yelling at me. That he wouldn’t love Todd more than me. That I could be good at something. That I am not a bad kid anymore, that I wouldn’t be in trouble all the time, that I would..” I stopped, sniffling, and squeezing my eyes shut.
“That I would be good enough..” I said whispering, clutching Courtney’s hand. I pulled the top off of my container, and let the fireflies go one by one. And then, after closing the container, Courtney and I leaned back on the hill to watch the sky fade to a deep shade of midnight blue. Finally, after what seemed like ages, we both sat up.
“We can’t tell anyone about these wishes,” she said, with a serious tone. I agreed, we pinkie swore, got up and walked home.
That night, after I ate a slice of blueberry pie while getting lectured about the grass stains on my sundress, I poked holes in my container, set it in my windowsill and went to bed. I woke up the next morning, and quickly checked my container.
My firefly was dead.
I called Courtney in tears. Hers was dead too.
I have never eaten a piece of blueberry pie or caught fireflies since.
I have never wished on anything since that night either. At 7 years old, I stopped believing in wishes.


Tonight, I think, after the sky darkens, and the pace slows down, I will come outside, and I will chase a few fireflies. Then I will sit on my front porch with a glass of sweet tea, and I will wrap my fingers up in Curt’s. I will admire my engagement ring on my finger. I will look at our hands intertwined. I will watch those two neighbor girls chase fireflies, and I will wonder if they are making wishes like I did at 7 years old, or if they are wishing for barbies and baby dolls.
And next weekend, for our 4th of July barbeque?
I will tackle making a blueberry pie from scratch.

Author's note: "i wrote this post on my old blog, singing with my heart, and thought it was appropriate to share again, after i danced in the moonlight and caught fireflies tonight. you’ll be happy to know that i wish on them, and can bake a pretty decent blueberry pie now. but every time i see a firefly, i have to swallow the lump in my throat as the memories come flooding back.

Thank you, Heather. I don't know that I'll ever look at fireflys the same again. XOXO