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Follow them Friday

March 1, 2012 by

Join Me At Blissdom!Do you like that totally original and inspired title I just came up with? Are you impressed?

Hmmm?

It’s not that original?

Oh…

Um…

Well how about this for originality? I’m tired. Like tired to my bones. I never quite caught up on sleep since my weekend at Blissdom and to cap it off I have been coughing like a chain smoker for six weeks now.

SIX WEEKS.

Which means that unless I’ve taken hearty doses of NyQuil or Codeine-laced cough syrup I haven’t been sleeping. So tonight I took drastic measures and resorted to following an old wives tale. What did I do? I cut an onion and set it out on the counter. Apparently it’s supposed to attract all the bacteria and germs in the house.

People of the world, I haven’t coughed in two hours! TWO HOURS!

I’m leaning more toward this being psychological manipulation but whatevah! Mama’s gonna sleep well tonight…and reek tomorrow.

So…back to my clever title.

I met so many wonderful, lovely people at Blissdom and gleaned a whole new list of blogs to add to my list. I thought I’d share some of them with you today. (Note-this list is not comprehesive and is in no way meant to leave anyone out. If we met and I don’t include you on this list, I sincerely apologize).

So without further ado…I bid you follow these lovely bloggers.

Rachel at A Southern Fairytale – Rachel and I only met for a brief moment but since returning she’s made me laugh out loud via Twitter. Plus, well, her photography will make you want to cry…and eat. Girl can cook. She’s super fun. You should follow her.

Julie at Eyes Full of Pretty – Julie was my sweet roomate. I met her via Twitter, which really, if you think about it, has all the potential of a really bad horror movie. But Julie was lovely and not at all scary or strange. I quite enjoyed her company.

Anne at The Modern Mrs. Darcy – First of all, I love her blog title. It makes me smile. And smiling makes me happy. Ergo, Anne makes me happy. See how that works?

Laura at In the Backyard – Pretty much the nicest and kindest person ever. And she has a book coming out soon – Spirit Led Parenting: From Fear to Freedom in Baby’s First Year. Awesome much?

Megan at Sorta Crunchy – Megan has the most beautiful smile and was such a sweet and gentle encourager. And she just so happens to be Laura’s co-author on the upcoming book.

Julie from Mabel’s Labels – Hilarious. Seriously, Julie is a party. And she has six kids, which makes her extra cool. She made certain I got my photo taken with Joe Jonas. So…I did, with her of course.

Tsh from Simple Mom – I’ve read Simple Mom off an on for over a year now so it was fun to meet Tsh in real life. Her voice was exactly as I imagined it would be. Sweet with the hint of a smile behind every word. I also got to attend the session she led, which was one of my favorites. Plus, really…how can you not like someone who doesn’t possess a vowel?

Keely Scott – I’ve been drooling over Keely’s photos online for several years now. It was so fun to sit with her a bit at Blissdom and get to know her. She is funny. Not just funny ha-ha, either. Like funny-guffaw. I can’t wait to travel with her in a couple of months.

Jeff Goins from Goins Writer – I told you about him earlier. He was so inpiring and natural and funny. I really enjoyed his session and talking with him afterward.

Laura from Hollywood Housewife – Her business card looks like a cassette tape. She’s cool. End of story.

Really, this list could probably go on and on, but those were the meetings that stood out in my mind. I look forward to getting to know these women (and man) more and more through the lovely art of blog stalking. I’m good at it. I’m like the phantom blog reader.

It’s like I’m not even here…

Go forth with thy weekend. Read blogs and be merry!

I’m a dork…

Filed Under: Blogging, Friendship, Random Tagged With: , , ,

Like a marathon, only better

February 27, 2012 by

About once a month I like to convince myself that I could run a marathon. I read all manner of inspiring stories and for a brief moment of insanity I believe that I too could join the ranks of those who run 26.2 miles.

Then I go out for a run and a quarter mile into the jaunt my body starts hurling four letters words at my ambition.

This usually leads to phase two of my insanity, wherein I lower my expectations and convince myself that I could run a half marathon.

Then I go for a run and a quarter mile into the jaunt my body starts hurling four letter words at my ambition.

At this point I decide to accept my limitations as a runner, which usually lasts me a couple of weeks until I read the inspiring story of someone who’s muscles use to curse at her and she overcame and became an avid marathoner who wakes up every morning and without even thinking she accidentally runs eighteen miles and I think, “Huh. I could do that.”

And thus, the cycle begins again.

So listen, I’m not a runner. Clearly. Somewhere deep down I think I know that, but there’s always the hope of a miracle.

I also hope to meet a unicorn someday…

But there are other goals that loom before me and call to me every single day. Like the ever elusive marathon, though, these goals often feel so…hard.

Writing a book is my own marathon. It is the song that calls me from my bed early in the morning and taunts me in the late hours of the night. This weekend the Blissdom conference brought a bit of a revelation to me as I sat in Jeff Goins‘ session on falling back in love with the craft of writing.

See the thing is, I will probably never run a marathon because I don’t love running. I just don’t. I don’t even like running. I think it’s stupid.

And it hurts.

And it’s stupid.

But writing…I love it. I love writing. I love the sound of the keys tapping a rhythm. I love the hum of the pen moving in fluid loops across a blank page. The sound of a typewriter is so romantic it makes my eyes water. I simply and deeply love writing.

I’ve told you I’m writing a book. I even let you see a little sneak peek. Twice. This book that I’m writing is my race. It is the marathon that I simply must run. It’s the story I must tell. But it’s so very, very hard.

For the last few months, as I’ve tried to work on my book only to be met by a wall of resistance, fear and doubt, I’ve wondered why on Earth I chose such a difficult subject to write about. Like a marathoner in her 19th mile, I’ve begun to wonder…can I really do this?

But the revelation that hit me this weekend was this: I didn’t choose this book. It chose me.

It chose me when I was fifteen and I stood on top of the hill at Babi Yar listening to the story of survival that changed my life and forever altered how I view the world as a whole. In that very moment, more than half my lifetime ago, I knew that I would write this book. I didn’t understand the scope of what it would become or the enormity of the task that loomed before me.

I just knew it was mine to write.

And it scares me. It scares the crap out of me. It’s like running a marathon straight up the slope of a mountain knowing that failure isn’t an option because by God, I trained for this.

Jeff challenged us all to write something dangerous this week and to publish it. So here it is: I am going to finish this book by June 1st.

I have 94 days.

And along the way, I may give you all a few more sneak peeks here and there. Because you guys, you’re a part of this journey with me. You are the cheerleaders on the sideline telling me I can do this and throwing me a beer now and again.

Just kidding. I don’t like beer. Wine would be great though.

Come back tomorrow for the next sneak peek at the novel that chose me. I am going to introduce you to the character that depletes me emotionally each time I sit down to write. I loathe him. And I feel sympathy for him. I’d love for you all to meet him. Tomorrow.

For now, though, I’m going to head out for a run.

Just kidding. I’m going to go pet my unicorn…

Image Credit

Filed Under: Blogging, Novel, writing Tagged With: , , , ,

The Pen Hovers

January 3, 2012 by

My first diary was a soft, red-bound book with tiny bears covering the front and back in orderly rows. It was a thrilling gift for a nine-year-old with serious secrets to keep.

Dear Diary,

Shhhh…don’t tell anyone but I like Brandon D. I think he’s really cute and funny but I don’t want anyone to know. Thanks for keeping my secret safe.

That was the first thing I wrote in my beloved book. I remember penning those words as if the moment had just slipped past. I was serious about liking Brandon D. and I seriously didn’t want anyone to know.

Through the years, that little red book ceased to be merely a Diary for my angsty gossip and soon became the book of my heart felt anguish. In those pages I recorded my struggles with body image and insecurity. My pen hovered gently over each page as I searched for the perfect words to capture my emotions. I remember writing things like, How do I quench the thirst in my soul? and The little leaf flutters to the ground in a dance just as my heartache flutters in haphazard turns and twists.

Clearly I was a bit of a dramatic, yes?

But writing in those pages became a source of comfort for me. It was there that I felt free to shout, to cry, to dance and to sing, all through the flowing rythmn of pen on paper. Writing in that journal was my worship.

Sometime in high school, that little journal was lost, most likely dropped off at a local Goodwill in a mix of discarded books. Perhaps someone picked it up and chuckled at my girlishness and the dramatic ponderings of my youthful heart. Perhaps it was simply tossed into the trash bin. I don’t know what happened to those treasured words, but I do know that a passion ignited inside of me and writing became more than a hobby.

It became my anthem of praise.

I filled the pages of many, many journals as the years progressed. Late nights and early mornings were spent writing the story of me. I penned poetry and songs. I wrote luxurious prose in the times when my soul danced and ravaged, fragmented sentences when the storms rolled in. There were ups and downs and every day, as my pen hovered over the pages, I felt a surge of energy knowing that these words would only be read by One Other.

Somewhere along the way, though, something happened. I think it occurred sometime around the birth of my second child when life got chaotic and crazy and suddenly the pen didn’t hover so freely any more. There were other, more pressing, matters to tend to and the pages of my journal remained blank and untouched.

And I forgot how to praise.

When I began blogging four years ago, I tried to treat this space as a journal of sorts but the truth is, it can’t be that. For one thing, no one would read it because it would be a jumbled mess. Who could possibly read a blogger that said such things as, The quivering ache for freedom doth shake me deeply. *eyeroll*

(Incidentally, as a young girl, I really loved to write a lot of Thee’s and Thou’s in my journal. It made me feel all Jane Eyre…)

But beyond the inner romantic that seeps out of my pen, the simple fact remains that I cannot tap into that worship and praise through my keyboard. To a degree I can, but not the way I used to. I can’t really let loose when I know that other people are reading. I worry too much about what the readers might be thinking. It’s time for that to change. It’s time for me to sit still  over a blank sheet of paper and watch for what might flow forth.

It’s time for me to pick up the pen, open the book and make the words dance.

This is my 2012 goal. What are your goals for this fresh new year?

Filed Under: Blogging, Life, Random, writing Tagged With: , ,

A Year in Review

December 29, 2011 by

This was a year of change for us. Hard, painful, exciting, beautiful growth. Four seasons have passed, three children have grown and a year’s worth of life was lived. This little corner of the web has been a bit of a refuge for me. Scrolling through old posts last night I realized it got a little depressing around here for a time. As we processed the move, I found myself stuck in the contemplative ponderings of change. And so many of you stuck it out as I processed.

Thank you.

I know I’ve already said that, but I need to say it again. I don’t like to get too serious around here. I don’t know why – I guess my ultimate hope is to make you all smile. Life is fun and there is so much joy to be had.

But sometimes life is also hard. Winter settles in and you have to search a bit more for the beauty in the frosty darkness.  A dear friend told me during this more difficult time of transition that she could always tell when things weren’t quite right. “Your writing takes a completely different tone,” said said. “It’s still beautiful, but I just know that your heart is aching a bit more than usual.”

But inevitably winter must thaw and joy breaks through once more. We’re walking toward spring and it’s balmy and sweet. And funny.

So without further ado, I give you 2011 in review:

In January, I laughed until I cried and I beseeched my male readership to please, for the love of all things holy explain to me the obssession with Star Trek. (Best I could tell, Star Trek is to men what Twilight is to women…)

In Feburary, I threw one heck of a pink princess party and lived to tell the tale.

In March I gave you the first sneak peek into my novel (which I will finish in 2012 – hold me to that, internets!).  Oh, and my dorky husband and I made a movie about how hot minivans actually are.

In April my first grader and I debated Creationism and the Big Bang theory. Later Tia and I discussed whether or not she would be able to do handstands in heaven while Landon swore up one side and down the other he saw a kangaroo on the side of the road. My kids are so delightfully weird.

In May I did NOT feel bad about Bin Laden’s death, and I mercilessly mocked my husband’s shoulder shaking dance moves. Oh yeah…and I lost my cool pants. Or maybe I never had them?

In June I gave you all a cavity with the sweetest pictures of childhood ever published.  I also traveled to Montreal and spent the day on a movie set where I interviewed Christine Baransky, died laughing at my husband’s reasoning for why the kids should not touch a bird’s nest and I dug down deep and got more personal than I’ve ever done before.

In July Jennifer Aniston did my hair, we announced our impending move to Florida and my posts got a bit contemplative.

In August people disrespected my smokin’ hot minivan and it was suggested I add ghost flames down the side. I also announced our intention to homeschool and I went to Hollywood and took a million pictures of myself at a movie premiere.

In September I explained why I would not be raising a bimbo of a daughter, then we all rejoiced as she made the most beautiful decision. We also found ourselves finally settling into a home after three months of living like nomads.

In October we worked with our son on toughening up and learning to play with the big boys. Then I humbled myself and admitted to my tendency toward acting like a true blonde.

In November I cried a freakin’ river for a second time, then my daughter and I were scarred for life when we walked in on a man in an airplane bathroom with his pants around his ankles. And I officially coined the phrase “Air Butt.” I also wrote this post, which is another one of my favorites.

Which brings us to December. I found out my eyes have betrayed me this month, I contemplated the value of a man when Albert Pujols left the Cardinals for the Angels, I admitted my aversion to Math (maybe I’m allergic to numbers…) and I died my hair pink.

It’s been quite a year and I couldn’t be more excited to head into 2012. I have big dreams, several goals and a lot of confidence. I think it’s the hair that’s given me a little boost. I hope you’ll join me as we jump into the new year. Perhaps we could all take a lesson from my youngest and leap with reckless abandon and unabashed joy.

Who’s with me? What are you looking forward to and hoping to accomplish this year?

Filed Under: blast from the past, Blogging, faith, Family, Florida, Holidays, Life, New Years Tagged With: , , , , , ,

Read with Kleenex

December 12, 2011 by

Today I want to give you a few links to some of the most powerful words I’ve read on the internet these last few months.  These writers are real, honest and have an incredible knack for weaving word pictures in such a way that makes you stop cold and think deep.

Refreshing.

The pastor of the church we have been visiting preached a sermon this morning titled Come Before Winter.  Apparently it is an annual tradition for him to preach this message and I really wish someone would have warned me ahead of time how emotional this message would be.  Although, it’s probably best I didn’t know, because I may have been tempted to skip it altogether.

The theme was centered around Paul’s final letter to Timothy when he urged him to come back to Rome quickly, before winter set in and travel across the Mediteranean would be impossible.  Paul knew he had little time left and there were still words he wanted to say to his beloved Timothy.

The message?  Life is short and goes by in an instant.  What are we doing to seize every opportunity while we are here on this Earth to glorify and honor God with our relationships, our gifts and talents and the tasks set before us?  He finished his message by reading something he wrote about his youngest child, who will graduate from high school this spring.  This was written days before he would watch his son play his final football game.

Get your Kleenex handy.

He was born on an October weekend 18 autumns ago. I was proud then. I am proud now. He has graced my life and blessed me in immeasurable ways.  And now it’s his senior year. It’s the last week, the last game. It was bound to happen. Where did the time go?

Read the entire story here.

Folks, there were grown men throughout the sanctuary blubbering like small children, most of them crowned with silver hair.  It was the kind of morning where you walk around with a burning lump lodged in your throat and you laugh inappropriately just to keep from crying.

Or maybe that was just me…

The next two ladies are hands down two of the most amazing bloggers to grace the internet and I’m not just saying that because I happen to know and love each one of them dearly.

Okay maybe I’m a tiny bit biased.

Becke’ not only has an amazing, God-given gift for photography, but she also has a deep and profound love of scripture and understanding of grace.  Oh, and she just so happens to be my sister-in-law.  If you’re not reading her blog, I really encourage you to do so.  You will be blessed.  And you might be slightly jealous of her pictures….

God wants light in His house so we could see.  The seeing would enable generations to hope for the one Good Olive, the one who would be beaten in that Garden of Gethsamene (garden of oil press), in order to bring true light.

Read the full post here.  And then look at the rest of her posts.  Just be prepared to go deep because Becke’ takes you to church when she writes.  You can also go ooh and aah over her pictures here.

And then there’s Wendy.  I’ve mentioned her a time or two…because she’s awesome.  And she may write one of the most refreshingly honest blogs on all the interwebs.  She’s sincere and real and bold and she writes with a humility that is like a breath of fresh air.  Wendy is an actress and a writer and she oozes creativity.  But more than that, she is a wife and a mom and she embraces those roles fully and completely.

Joy is not dependent upon our circumstances, the health of those we love, or how physically well-rested we are; JOY comes from abiding in Him, ever thankful that He abides in us.

Read the rest of this post here and then go read some more of her posts.  I actually had a difficult time choosing which post to highlight.

Speaking of life moving quickly - this kid is going to be FOUR this week!

There are a lot of places where you could spend your time online.  But I hope that by reading the words of these bloggers you find yourself encouraged as you see their genuine authenticity.  And I pray that as you head into your week, you find yourself feeling blessed and renewed.

I pray the same for myself.  A word to the wise – don’t drink caffinated tea at night.  You could just find yourself up and kickin’ at 2:00 am.  Not that I would know anything about that…

Blessings, friends.

Filed Under: Blogging, Random, writing Tagged With: , , , ,

Takin’ Care of Business

October 20, 2011 by

This post comes to you with a sheepish, yet polite, request for help.  I hate talkin’ shop, but wanted to just toss a few little things out there.  Don’t worry, though.  This post won’t be all dry.  I’ve got a gem of a story to tell you at the end.

It’s my dangling carrot.

So here’s the deal, friends.  I stink at self-promotion.  It makes me wildly uncomfortable.  As I told someone recently, it makes me feel a bit like the girl standing on top of a table in a crowded room and screaming LOOK AT ME!!  And I’ve never been much of a table top kind of girl.

Ahem.

But, my goal in the next few months is to beef up the readership and participation on my blog.  And to do that, I need your help.  If you read something on here that you like, would you mind forwarding it on?  You can hit the little Facebook button at the bottom of the page, or if you’re the Tweetin’ kind, you can give a little Tweet.

You know…if you want.

Also, well I don’t talk about it much and, to be quite honest, I don’t utilize it much, but I DO have a Minivans Are Hot Facebook page that you can like by clicking riiiiiiight…here.  You don’t have to drive a minivan to like the Facebook page, but I will warn you that should you choose to follow the blog AND the Facebook page, you will likely start to feel the pull of the minivan.

Because minivans are bringing sexy back.

Huh?

Whatever.

If you do read something you like and have a second or two to respond, well, I’ll confess – I’m a bit of a comment whore.  I promise I will respond to you…or you can respond to one another.  I like community so let’s build a community of minivan lovin’ (or hatin’ – you know who you are) women…and men, too.  I know you guys are reading.

Finally in the manner of business, I would like to ask if there’s anything you guys would like me to specifically write about.  Is there are particular topic you like better?  Is there something you’d like me to avoid discussing (the frequency of my childrens bowel movements?  DONE! – Look how accommodating I am)?

Seriously – let me know.

Now, on to that carrot:

The Scene:

A beautiful, sunny Florida afternoon.  The kids are playing outside while I enjoy a few quiet moments alone to do whatever I want – which means I’m cleaning the kitchen…again. The windows are open and a beautiful, cool fall breeze is drifting in.  Nothing can break the perfection of this moment.  Nothing, that is, until I hear a scream that rattles the glass throughout the house.

The back door flings open aaaaaaaaand CUE DIALOGUE!

“Mooooooooommmmm!!!” Tia shrieks, running into the house all sweaty and red-faced.  Sloan comes running after her with a tormentuous (this is my blog – if I say that’s a word…it’s a word) grin on his face.

“What in the world?” I say as she throws her arms around my waist and cries.  “What’s going on?”

“Sloan stole my gun!” She cried.  Sloan throws his hands up in mock innocence. “What’d I do?” he yells.

“What gun, Tia?” I ask, detaching her from my leg.

“My pwetend gun!  I was fightin’ the bad guys with it and Sloan took it and now the bad guys are gonna kill me!”

Pause.

Uuuuummm.

“Tia, if it’s a pretend gun, can’t you just get another one?”  I try my best to say this without rolling my eyes.

“Nope, she can’t,” Sloan says with a smirk.  “Because I destroyed all the guns in the imaginary gun shop.”

“Yeah!” Tia cries again.  “And he ate the pie I made for Justin Bieber who was gonna come over for dinner at my pwetend house!  I don’t LIKE Sloan.”  She stomps her foot and runs to her room, slamming her door.

“Whatever!” Sloan yells in return, huffing to his room.

Landon walks in at this moment and strolls past me with string and a crowbar tucked under his arms.

And this folks is why I am slowly but surely losing. my. mind.

The End.

Filed Under: Blogging, Family, Florida, funny stuff that happens, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Minivans, Motherhood, shameless self-promotion, Sloan, Tia Tagged With: , , , ,

Great. Now Prove It.

October 19, 2011 by

“I’m sorry,” he says, over and over again.  “Mom.  I’m sorry.”  This time his tone demands forgiveness.  I don’t doubt the sincerity of his apology, but I do doubt the sincerity of his remorse.  Because, you see, when he’s been told that Dad will have to deal with this situation, suddenly his apologies are much more fervent.

He apologizes over and over wanting an immediate and swift reply from me.  Sometimes I’m able to give it.  Other times I’m so frustrated that I can’t immediately verbalize my forgiveness.  Of course he’s forgiven, I just need a minute to mean it when I say it.

“I said I’m sorry!” His voice has raised a decibel and he’s noticeably frustrated at my silence.

“I heard you say it, son,” I respond.  “Now I want you to prove it.”

“Huh?” comes the standard reply.

“Prove to me you’re sorry.”

“How?”

“By changing your behavior.”

For the first time, he is silent.  Blissfully silent.  My firstborn’s downfall in life will be his tongue unless he finds a way to harness it.

He walks out of the room and closes himself in his homework nook.  For twenty minutes he is back there, working feverishly on something.  He comes out after a bit and hands me a piece of paper.  He’s drawn me a picture and written the words, “Mom, I love you.  I am really sory and I want your forgivness.  I will do better.”

And just like that, forgiveness granted and relationship restored.  He still had to discuss with Daddy the loss of self control that led to the altercation, but for the rest of the afternoon, he did just what I asked.  He proved himself.  He waited just a second longer before responding.  When his sister made him angry, he left the room in a huff – a grand improvement over how he normally responds.

He proved his remorse by trying to reign in his tongue.  That was all I asked.

How often do I come before the Holy of Holies with yet another, “Lord, I’m sorry!”  How often do I skip through my day uttering “Forgive me, Lord,” without a hint of weight or remorse hidden inside my words?

How often do I choose not to reign in my tongue and just expect instant acceptance despite my unwillingness to work on the behavior?

It’s heavy, when you stop and think about it.  My eight year old got the concept of proving it better than I do.  His heart is tender and precious.  Would that I possessed those same qualities.  I’m constantly working on the tenderness of my own heart.

It doesn’t really do just to say it.  We expect so much more from our young children when it comes to obedience than we do of ourselves.  But we all must operate under the same challenge.

Prove it.

This is a Walk with Him Wednesdays post, linked to Ann Vaskamp’s site.  Each week, Ann leads her readers to take their faith a step deeper.

From Ann’s website –

For one more week: … might we explore: The Practice of Hope… What does it look like to believe? How do you practice your faith day to day? How do you share that faith, deepen faith in Christ, live that faith out in the midst of fears? The whole community looks forward to your prayerful reflections stories, ideas….

For more practices of hope, visit A Holy Experience.

Filed Under: Blogging, faith, Family, Kids, Motherhood Tagged With: , , , ,

Who’s got time to be addicted?

September 26, 2011 by

"There's another new social networking site that I'm supposed to join?!"

So here it is, friends.  I am struggling with the rat race that has become social media and there is one reason for it:

I don’t flipping have time.

I love blogging.  This here little space of mine is where I often times work out what’s swirling around inside my head and heart.  I don’t organize and plan my posts ahead of time.  Maybe I should, but that’s not really how my brain operates.  I process my emotions through the melodic clicking of the keyboard.  It’s where my heart flows.  And you want to know what?

Sometimes I don’t share everything I write.

Sometimes the emotions are too raw…too personal.  But many times I can’t voice my heart unless I’m writing it out.  So blogging?  I totally get it.

Everything else?  Exhausts me.

Amber from Crappy Pictures wrote about why being a mom makes her suck at Twitter. Through my tears of laughter I’m pretty sure I uttered a hearty “Amen” or two as I read her post.  I can’t get into Twitter.  My posts usually go like this:  “I’m baaaaaack. How’s everyone doing to tonight? #finallybackontwitter”

No one will respond to this tweet, of course, because no one knows me on Twitter.  And because, unless I’m writing an article that needs to be promoted for someone else, I usually only tweet about once everyone two weeks.

Because that’s all I have time for.

I mean, I guess I could check my twitter stream a little more every day and try to converse, but I never really know how to converse with Twitter followers without feeling like a creepy cyber-stalker.

I like Facebook…because I get it.  I know most of the people on Facebook and they know me.  I can post something on Facebook and come back hours later and respond to any comments, whereas with Twitter it seems you need to respond right away or else you’re like the rude neighbor who walks away mid-conversation and never returns.

The frustrating part in all of this is that marketers and others who may want to hire your services in social networking or online writing often look at how wide your impact is, and part of that is your activity on Twitter.  They also look at how many Facebook friends you have, how many people are reading your blog, how many comments you get and what kind of toilet paper you use.

Hmph.

It starts to feel like a nasty competition and in the midst of all the running, I can easily lose focus on why I’m doing what I’m doing.  I’m writing because I love it. I’m writing because I’m good at it.  I’m writing because I believe it is a form of praise, an offering back of that which I have been given.

I’m writing because it’s fun.  Trying to keep up with the pack detracts from that and every once in awhile I have to tighten the reigns and remember what life is all about.  And with so much to keep up with, it helps to simply unplug every once in awhile.

Part of the online madness stems from the fact that there is just so dang much to keep up with anymore.  Now there’s Instagram, which sounds totally fun…if you have an iphone, which I don’t so I’m off the hook with that one.  No temptation!  Guh-lory!

There’s also StreamZoo and Google Plus and LinkedIn (yes, I know I have several invitations to Link up on LinkedIn, but I can’t remember my password so there’s a good chance I’m never going to accept those invitations for which I hereby sincerely apologize), and a whole host of other networking sites that are cropping up and my head just exploded.

I just want to make my kids a sandwich.

And write.

And maybe, just maybe, keep up with the constant flow of online craziness so that in a few years when my son comes prancing in the door and announces he wants to open up a ShowMyLifeToTheWorld account, I’ll know what it is and whether or not I want him partaking.

I’m trying to stay cool, folks!  I mean, aside from my rockin’ minivan, I’ve got very little left with which to garner cool points.

So here it is, social media overwhelms me. Sometimes it’s just too much.

What are your thoughts?

Filed Under: Blogging, Random, things I don't need to hear, writing Tagged With: , , ,

My Fancy Pants Weekend: A Pictorial

August 31, 2011 by

Alternately titled: A million pictures of me.

I took a walk and was all “What’s up 90210?!”  Thank goodness no one was around.

I spent a lot of time here.

We may or may not have eaten free cupcakes at Sprinkles (thank you social media) and then headed down the street to Crumbs and had another free cupcake…at 10:00 in the morning.  Don’t judge.

Talking with Don Hahn, producer of The Lion King.  The photo is blurry, I know.  I am dying to get my good camera back from her stint at the spa.

Because I might be the biggest nerd ever, I thought Robert Neuman’s presentation on how they took the original 2D animation and made it 3D was incredibly fascinating.  He used terms like Stereoscopic and Depth algorithms.  When Sloan started complaining about math today, I told him about Newman and told him stick with it, because he might be able to make cartoons someday.

Who knew math could be fun?!

We got an hour long African Dance lesson.  It was so fun!

My favorite part of the whole weekend was meeting Tony Bancroft (Pumbaa’s Supervising Animator) and Mark Henn (Simba’s Supervising Animator).  They were funny, amazingly talented and have drawn many of the most beloved Disney characters of the past 20 years.  Mark Henn drew Ariel, Tiana and Belle just to name a few.

We each got a signed picture to take home.

Who needs Valentino when you can bust out this rockin’ dress that cost less than ten dollars?!

 

What's with the face? I just don't know...

Meeting Moira Kelly, the voice of adult Nala.  She was so lovely and friendly and down to Earth.

Walking the red carpet green astroturf and smiling like a Cheshire Cat.

Listening to an Organist inside the El Capitan theater play Disney hits.

 

Headed into the After Party

Rick Schroder. Because I am a proper child of the ’80’s.

With Melissa Joan Hart and Jen. Notice the ridiculous amount of swag in my hands.  I collected all that I could to bring home to the kids so I wouldn’t have to buy gifts.  Thrifty, I am…

 

I ended the party with the obligatory self photo in front of the Hollywood sign. You see it, right? And again, I don't know why with the face...

I finished my day relaxing poolside at the Beverly Wilshire.  Not bad for a minivan mom from the midwest, eh?

It really was a fun, wonderful weekend and I felt totally in awe of the opportunity.  I’m also so glad it was to cover The Lion King.  I had forgotten what a wonderful (epic?) film that was.  I have seen it so many times, but there was something magical about seeing it on the big screen again, particularly with the 3D effects.  I will definately be taking my kids to see it.

My official post on the film and the movie will be posting live over at 5 Minutes for Mom in a couple of days.  Happy Wednesday, friends!

Disclaimer: Disney and Click Communications paid for my travel, hotel and food expenses for the three days I was in LA.  I was not compensated for this or any other posts.  Any and all opinions expressed are my own.

Filed Under: Blogging, Travel Tagged With: , , ,

These things don’t happen often

August 26, 2011 by

I walk off the plane, the weight of my bags tugging my shoulder uncomfortably. Flicking my eyes left to right, I notice I exited at the gate nearest to the baggage claim.

That never happens to me. Ever.

I follow the crowd and make my way to the escalator, watching the older gentleman in front of me move slowly and deliberately. I decide to stay close to him as he’s a bit wobbly. As we approach the moving stairs, three people push past me and halt in front of the older man who is now fumbling with his two bags. I worry, I cringe and finally I tap the oblivious young man in front of me and ask him to help.

The older man is seconds from falling down the stairs as the three discuss their favorite Fiddy Cent song, totally unaware of his plight. (Really? Fiddy? Fiddy? Gawd…Fifty.)

I step off the escalator, glad the older man made it okay and I see my driver standing there. I giggle because I have a driver. Maybe some of you are used to that, but I’m not. I have to fight the urge to clap my hands and jump up and down. He stands with a sign: Ms. Stuart.

That’s me. He’s waiting for me. I giggle again.

I’m quickly ushered to the waiting Town Car. “You’re headed to the Beverly Wilshire?” he asks. “I am?” I reply, all wide eyed and surprised. “That’s what the order said,” he answers back with a smile. He sees my awe.

And off we go, him giving me a brief history lesson on LA and me wondrous at the sights. I’ve been here before, but never under such circumstances. Always the tourist – never the press. This is different.

“There are three rules you need to know in LA,” he says to me, his eyes darkened by Ray-Bans.

“First, every actor is a god and is to be treated as such.”

Um…huh?

“Second, if you’re invited to a party in the Hollywood Hills, never invite someone who doesn’t understand rule #1.”

Wait…what?

“Third, be nice to everyone. You never know who’s going to be the next big thing. It may even be you.”

We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

He pulls up to the Beverly Wilshire and I can’t stop myself from humming Pretty Woman under my breath. I exit the car and am suddenly painfully aware of my black yoga pants and brown tennis shoes. They don’t even match. Paparazzi stand at the gates and glance my way, then quickly turn. I am not exciting to them.

I’m pretty sure it’s currently obvious that I drive a minivan.

I walk up the stairs and am greeted with a cold bottle of water. My bags are whisked away, I’m checked in and given my press kit. I meander through the hotel, my heart racing. These things don’t happen to a suburban girl from the midwest…who drives a minivan. The elevator door opens and I laugh.

There’s a bench. I fight hard against the urge to quote it.

“Oh look, honey. There’s a runner in my panty hose. I’m not wearing any panty hose.”

“Well color me happy, there’s a sofa in here for two.”

Instead, I adjust my sunglasses atop my head and push the 6. I’m cool. Can’t you tell? I do this all the time.

Drinks at the bar, a movie screening, more drinks and food. Someone says that’s Paris Hilton’s mom. I don’t believe them…but what do I know. Bruce Willis is here somewhere. I don’t see him. I do see Rodeo Drive out the lobby window, though. I make my plans to visit in the morning. I wonder if I could walk into a store and say, “I was in here the other day and you wouldn’t help me. Big mistake. Big. Huge.”

Probably not.

But wouldn’t that be fun?

It’s time for sleep. This bed is like a cloud. I might never wake up…

Filed Under: Blogging Tagged With: , , ,
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