Velveteen Mind

End of Days

BlogHer is over.  I have plenty to share with you about the conference, but as a mom blogger in attendance, I need to return to the “mom” role for a few days.

Q is starting kindergarten next week.  To say that I am not excited about his entering the never-ending zone that is school attendance policies would be an understatement.  Fortunately, he is over the moon excited, so it’s time for me to soak up every bit of  these last few days and get all of us as prepared as possible…  without my crying or throwing things in the general direction of the school too much.

I’d like to leave this post open as a warm, albeit tattered, welcome to any new readers that decided to check me out after either attending The People’s Party, hearing the generous comments by BlogHer-founder Lisa Stone during the opening breakfast, tolerating my rambling during the “Have You Found Your Mom Blogging Tribe” panel, or marveling at the beach balls I called pregnant-ankles as I toddled around all of the glorious parties.

It was a joy to meet you.  If we have met before, you know it was a joy to see you again and rub my baby belly all over you as I whispered what our daughter’s real name will be into your ear.  Thank you for saying it is beautiful, even if you wanted to scowl.

Finally, an all-encompassing and sincere thank you to Snapfish, who made my trip possible.   Listen, being a speaker and co-hosting a party at BlogHer does not translate to actually being able to afford to attend.  All of the money I had saved during the year for the trip was unexpectedly funneled through my uterus at the last minute and it was Snapfish that ultimately delivered me to Chicago.  Because it was a last minute arrangement, I wasn’t able to offer any swanky swag from them, but they were cool with that.  They actually wanted me to be there and didn’t hand me a box to exploit in return.  Amazing, right?  Particularly given the sponsored swag-o-sphere that developed this year.  But more on that later.

I have a personal relationship with Snapfish.  I wrote about it last year before attending BlogHer in San Francisco, where I would end up spending the day at their headquarters.  I have more to say about it, but we’re all a little brand-weary right now, so just let me repeat that Snapfish was the only insurance policy that paid out after Hurricane Katrina.  I swear by them and won’t delete a single photo from our camera’s memory card until it is safe and secure on Snapfish.com.  Period.  The end.  For real.

{As an illustration of my thanks, Snapfish has provided 7 $35 gift certificates for my snap-happy readers.  Leave a comment, and seven of you will be randomly chosen to see what it is that I’m raving about over there at Snapfish.com.}

Thank you, Snapfish.  Thank you, BlogHer.  Thank you People’s Party co-hosts and co-hosts past, not to mention party sponsors that didn’t cry when we opened the doors and a wall of people warmed the room. 

Thank you…  you.  Above all, thank you.

People get a little crazy after BlogHer.  I mentioned during my panel that a lot of blogs fold after the conference.  People didn’t believe me, thought I was saying it for effect, but it’s already happening.  I’ll write about that after 1900 more kisses on the faces of my boys before school starts.  Because this post-BlogHer drama doesn’t touch me.  Largely because of exactly what I said in my last tweet yesterday:

That tweet was retweeted so many times I lost count.  All prefaced with “Yes!” or “Me too!” or “Amen!”  Because when you get it, you don’t sweat it.  And I do thank you.  For a fabulous weekend, for taking the time to say hi or say hi back, and for reading this damn blog.  It’s pretty simple.  Thank you.

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Party Throwdown with Nature vs. Nurture

Today is Goose’s third birthday.  Three years ago this morning, I was holding a hot little baby and wondering at what life as a mom to two boys would be like.  Wondering how I had been blessed, once again.

Goose has grown into an amazing guy.  He is hilarious and tender and compassionate and smart.  Did I mention he is hilarious?

I ask myself where his sense of humor comes from.  He’s sharp, not just goofy, and keeps us simultaneously laughing and favoring a bit of curiosity as to where he comes up with this stuff.

As a mom, of course I ask what hand I play in who he is.  Not because I want to take pride in him, but because I really like how he and his brother are turning out.  If I have anything to do with this run of luck, I would sure like to keep it up.

With a new baby sister on the way, I most certainly would like to keep it up.

This is a Nature vs. Nurture debate that maintains a heady battle in my mind.

And lately?  I’m worried that I’m slipping in the battle.

As many of you know, I am cohosting The People’s Party the night before BlogHer in Chicago this year, a mere few days away.  More pertinently, I am organizing it.  That means hours of phone calls and emails, negotiation with sponsors, and wrangling of notoriously distractible bloggers.  Hosting a party for near 700 guests in a city I’ve never seen is quite a task, particularly when we are trying to slather those guests with free drinks and bountiful swag bags.

July is, understandably, an insane month.  But not just because of the pre-BlogHer party.  Also because July is the birth month of both Q and Goose, birthdays only days apart.  Goose who turned three today and Q who turns 5 next week.  Five years old.  That means kindergarten, the point of no return and an event I am none too excited about.  But I’ll write about that another day.

Today, I am focused on the joint birthday party we are throwing for our sons this afternoon.  The party that used to absorb my attention during the month of July. 

This is where I shamefully admit that my sons’ birthday party priority has been bumped by that of The People’s Party.

For shame.  You know my name.

I love to throw fabulous parties.  I don’t mean large parties, though the pre-BlogHer party is certainly large, but rather lavish parties…  lavishly creative, that is.  It is one of my favorite opportunities to show my sons, in the case of their birthday party, or our family and friends, in the case of our wedding, just how much I love them.

When it’s not about you but rather about them, it is easy to become carried away.

Q’s first birthday was a mixed theme of dogs and rock-n-roll.  We called it “Club Dog Dog” and outfitted my parents’ bar with Elvis paraphernalia, guitars, and a cake shaped like a guitar, the recipe for which Maguire and I found before Q was born and eagerly looked forward to using.  Everyone had custom t-shirts and backstage passes hanging on lanyards.  It rocked.

When Q turned two, Goose had been born only days earlier, so we scaled back and did a combo of Jurassic Park and Thomas the Tank Engine.  We called it “Jurassic Train Station” and somehow managed to bake a cake that looked like a train station attacked by dinosaurs.  I’m surprised I could even walk, let alone bake and decorate, but we did it and excitedly so.

Q’s third birthday and Goose’s first was our first joint party and the first where their friends were invited.  We did a classic carnival theme and took it over the big top, replete with midway games good for earning tickets to “buy” toys and trinkets, face painting, fortune telling, as well as a carnival stand-up where you could poke your head through and look like a daredevil ringmaster with your head in the lion’s mouth…  which our family made.  Just wow.

And then I decided to go to BlogHer.  Which fell during our birthday party week for their fourth and second birthdays.

Did I mention that bloggers can be distractible?  In which case, something has to give. 

Last year, that meant the boys’ birthday party.  Although still more fun than a just-turned 2 year old and 4 year old know how to handle, we scaled way back again.  Just a simple family Kung Fu Panda party, some decorations, treats, and possibly a bootleg DVD of the yet-released movie, courtesy of their ever-cool uncle.  Because every party needs a hint of danger.

Look, I realize that kids don’t know the difference between a bash and a fling.  They don’t necessarily feel any more or less loved based on the amount of planning that went into their birthday party.

But still.

So I sit here this morning, bogged down in fun yet tedious hours still of last-minute party planning aimed at Chicago, and have next to nothing to do in order to prepare for Q and Goose’s birthday party later today.  It just feels weird. 

They wanted a Transformers theme, which was easy enough, but also wanted to invite their friends from Montessori school.  Given my level of distraction these last few weeks (oh, yeah, I’m also still very much six months pregnant), the state of our home does not bode well for entertaining guests, so we are having their party at a party facility for the first time ever.  Granted, it’s a kick-ass indoor inflatables place that the boys have never seen and will pass out from all of the excitement the moment they walk in, but it still feels hollow, somehow.

This is mom guilt talking.  The part of me that trusts nurture just a smidge more than nature.  The part that sort of believes that our kids do feel more loved when we slave just a tiny bit over their parties.

Mom Guilt.  Mom Passion.  Mom Love.  The part of me that believes that wearing clown shoes to their carnival party makes a heart-string’s worth of difference in their precious hearts.  I know I can’t be alone in feeling torn over this (very worthwhile and truly awesome) distraction in Chicago, but I’m not yet sure if that makes me feel any better.

I still sort of wish I was wearing clown shoes today.

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Mom Writers Literary Magazine Takes on a New Cover Editor and oh! The Fun Begins.

At the height of my morning sickness, I wasn’t checking my email or logging onto the computer at all for days at a time, and then only to check our bank balance.  When I would check my email, there would be several messages along the lines of, “Where is your article?” and “How far along in your cover feature are you?” and “You are killing us.  We go to print in two days.”

I would crawl away from the toilet long enough to reply, “Yep, almost done.  It’s smashing.  You’ll love it.  Just polishing it up.”  After which I would crawl back to the toilet and gaze at my reflection which was staring back and asking, “Really?  This is how you are going to play it?  Because last time I checked you hadn’t even read your notes since the interview.”

Toilet Water Megan is snarky and impatient.  She takes no crap.  Er, well, hmmmm.

To be fair, I am a master procrastinator, yes.  But I had lost so much energy and so many brain cells that I literally started crying one day because I couldn’t remember if salutations should include a comma before the name.  I wrote “Hey, Paula,” and “Hey Paula,” dozens of times before I finally gave up.  My brain was gone, replaced by pregnant mush capable only of calculating the time and distance to the bathroom from any given point in the house.

Our story ends brilliantly well, fortunately, as I managed to deliver my very first cover feature for Mom Writers Literary Magazine without a hitch.  This may be the first my publisher and editors have heard of my deceptions, in fact.  Rest assured, however, that I more or less write the exact same content regardless of whether it is delivered early or at deadline. 

This way was much more exciting though, right?  …I’m going with “Right.”

All of this is to proudly announce that I have accepted the position of Cover Editor at Mom Writers Literary Magazine.  My job is to write the cover feature each issue, which is pretty much exactly what I would have begged to do anyway.  Published quarterly, it is an engaging mix of interviews, essays, and poetry by mom writers. 

They gave me plenty of room to stretch my legs on my first feature, too.  Incredibly good news because my first interview was with Asha Dornfest of ParentHacks.com and I am just as long-winded on the phone as I am on this blog.  But who wouldn’t be when discussing the nitty gritty of blogging with someone as fascinating as Asha?  I even let Asha talk a little.

Note to self:  When the transcript has more “Megan” paragraphs than “Asha” paragraphs, you’ve gone off the tracks somewhere.

As it turns out, the Spring issue is focused on Mom Bloggers.  Right up your alley?  Subscribe today and the Spring issue (with my fingers-crossed gorgeous feature on Asha) should arrive at your doorstep within about a week.  Mom bloggers not your interest but mom writers more your thing?  Subscribe and enjoy a plethora of insightful interviews with the most talented mom writers publishing today.

Seriously, people, this is my first published piece.  My first “clip,” as it were.  The editors said they loved it, but I trust you, so check it out and tell me if I should throw in the towel and start writing snarky stories about the other moms in the pick-up line or not.  And if you do enjoy it, definitely drop Asha a line. 

I think I had her fooled into thinking I’d done this before, too.  Psych!

…  Suddenly I’m thinking that I no longer need an editor so much as I need a PR pro.  A spin doctor that would keep me from divulging my secrets and rather put a glossy spin on my mind-boggling writing skills.  Now then, let me try this again…

Grab your own subscription now and I’ll throw in a bonus!  Bring your Mom Writers Literary Magazine with my Asha Dornfest cover feature to BlogHer and I’ll autograph it for you!  Or, um, just sign Asha’s name.  Or explain why I asked her that question.  Or what I was thinking when I wrote that other thing.  Or give you a couple of bucks back because, hello, hack?  Whatever you want.

(I’m seriously just kidding about the autograph thing.  My ego is not that massive.)

Yeah, now hiring a PR specialist.  I just write the stuff.  I have no idea how to sell it.

In the meantime…  free stuff!

Leave a comment that bolsters my publisher and editors’ faith in mah mad writing skills (or really any comment) and I’ll randomly select 3 commenters to receive a copy of the Fall/ Winter 2008 issue featuring Melissa Stanton, former Senior Editor at People and LIFE magazines, author of The Stay-at-Home Survival Guide, and force behind both the MotherVerse Blog and Real Life Support for Moms.

I didn’t write anything in that issue but I’ll be happy to doodle on the cover, if you want.  (again, no haters, I’m kidding.)

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