Tag Archives: BlogHer11

The Importance of Being Earnest. And Listening. And not being a Whiny Bitch.

9 Replies

I started writing about my BlogHer ’11 experience with the intention of NOT chronicling my every second – like I did in a three-parter “series” of recap posts last year. But even while purposefully attempting to just feature a few highlights, I still ended up with a mess of anecdotes and links (OHMYLORD the links…) And I finally had to cut it off.

[By the way – if we had a meaningful exchange and I neglected to link to you, it was unintentional. Shoot me an e-mail and I’ll add you to the melee.]

The truth is, aside from all of the planned group dinners, impromptu gatherings and general whirlwind of fun, I did have some more serious discussions both during and after the conference.

About the conference.

What makes it so extraordinary…as well as what makes it so disappointing sometimes.

And as tempting as it is to just forget all of that now and get back to the business of daily survival, I do think it’s worth working some of that out here. For myself – and maybe also for others who have had the same thoughts.

So I’ll start with the extraordinary. I think it’s important to always start with the good – just in case, like me, you have a tendency to get sidetracked.

There were two moments at BlogHer that transcended my carefree vacation expectations. Experiences that while fun, also made me feel part of something much bigger than the activities and frivolous merry making. And they both involved just listening.

So much of that weekend was about talking. Meeting and greeting. Learning. Debating. Actively participating – taking part in an exchange of ideas.

And all of this racing around so closely mirrors the busy pace of our everyday lives and responsibilities. We all spend our days trying to achieve so much in so little time. And we don’t have many opportunities to just sit quietly and listen. Or more accurately, we have to make time for those opportunities. And we seldom do.

A blogging conference schedule offers no exception – just a different set of goals and responsibilities. After almost two days of non-stop activity, I was so happy to finally sit down at the Voices of the Year keynote. To stop talking, walking, looking around…to just stop. And listen.

And the primary reason for my enthusiasm was that a friend (one of the first friends I made through blogging) was a keynote.

I remember reading that particular post, Listen when it appeared on her blog. And while I found it beautiful the first time around, hearing it spoken aloud was a thousand more times more powerful. This piece about not judging others resonates very strongly in my life. It’s a lesson I’ve learned on a daily basis as a mother, and especially as the mother of a special needs child. I’ve found that earnestly expecting the best of people generally brings out the best in them – both in their actions and in my personal perspective.

I loved having this sentiment so close to my heart validated in such a public way.

And to hear it while sitting in a room full of thousands of people with such different backgrounds and life experiences made the subject all the more relevant. It’s so easy to judge the unfamiliar and not acknowledge the good intentions. To focus more “being honest” than being earnest. To have strong opinions about choices. Life choices – parenting choices. We all do it.

Lack of personal connection seems to make us forget about empathy and diversity. And more importantly – we forget all about benefit of the doubt.

I’ve written before about how I rarely get angry. This is usually attributed to my more subdued personality. But that’s not really it. Honestly? I think the real reason is quite simply that I believe in good intentions.

It takes a lot to enrage me. Because no matter how incensing the transgression may be, I just have to believe that the target of my ire most likely meant well enough. And that knocks the fight out of me. I’d rather give them the benefit of the doubt – assume the best – because in my experience, this is usually the case. So I try not to judge. And I also listen when given the opportunity hear the other side of the story.

To sit quietly and listen to a friend speak to a rapt audience of thousands about the value of keeping an open mind – of listening – was extraordinary.

It’s extraordinary that thousands of people would be so willing to just sit and listen to her. To forgo the parties and the freebies and the cocktails and cupcakes for two hours (okay so there were cupcakes on the table…but we didn’t know they would be served…) To put personal biases aside and just listen. And maybe even learn something. How often does this happen in your day-to-day life? I think you can guess what my answer would be.

It should come as no surprise that my favorite conference event by far took place a couple of hours later in the Listen/Letter to Your Mother salon. This event offered an open mic to anyone who wanted to take the stage. And I was blown away by how truly talented these random “takers” were. They didn’t audition – no panel of judges scored their work. They were just lucky to have their names pulled out of a bowl. Some made me laugh so hard I cried. And some had me fighting tears.

Not every single reading held personal relevance for me. But I loved the idea that everyone in that room might be worthy of attention. And even more so, the discovery that they actually were.

And isn’t that an extraordinary concept? That everyone has something important to say – to contribute – to teach. And to then give them a platform. To give them our attention for no other reason than their request to be heard.

Everyone in that room had a story to tell, a perspective to offer, and most importantly, a desire to share a piece of themselves. And the welcome given to those who did step up to the microphone was like nothing I’ve ever seen. It was like sitting around a campfire – taking turns with the proverbial peace pipe. There was a stage, but it wasn’t a production. It was spontaneous. It felt like community. Like family.

Then, as if I could feel even more included in something so special, my own slip of paper was the second to last one pulled from the bowl. I read a post about my son Oliver. And I wasn’t nervous or worried about stumbling over un-memorized lines. It didn’t matter. No one there had any expectations of me. They were just there to listen and accept whatever was said as it was offered. With the best of intentions. 

****

I deleted the rest of this post when I received a comment from someone who was very hurt by it. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so terrible about something. No matter how good my intentions may have been, it doesn’t change the fact that I hurt people. And I will always put feelings first. Always.

Since then, I’ve had an extraordinary opportunity. Instead of doing my usual thing – avoiding the problem altogether – I faced it. I didn’t get many comments (thank god) but I approached everyone who did leave their thoughts. I apologized for offending or hurting them. Or I thanked them for seeing my good intentions. But no matter what – I owned my consequences.

And that was hard. It really hurt. It hurts to hurt other people. At least it does for me.

I don’t think I can just leave it at that as I had planned though. What I really want is to take the whole thing down – pretend it never happened. But that’s not owning it.

I also hate the fact that my original words aren’t here, so that anyone looking to see the worst in me can assume the worst. But I can’t put them back up. It’s out of the question – risking that someone else may be hurt.

So I decided to come back here and briefly explain what I was trying to say when I hit publish last week.

I had these amazing experiences above, and as I thought about them over the next week, I realized that I had missed out on what should have been an extraordinary experience. I sat through the Voices of the Year keynotes simply “enjoying the show.” I didn’t really feel like I was part of a community – and it was entirely my own fault.

Then in a similar event where the speakers were chosen at random, I really listened to what they had to say, recognized that they were handing me a piece of themselves and felt honored to be included. This is exactly what I should have done several hours earlier, but didn’t. I didn’t actively look for the extraordinary in that room of thousands. And my disappointment in the experience was my own fault.

I had a revelation about something that should have been obvious. If you want to feel like you’re part of something extraordinary, you have to actively participate. You have to be earnest in your intentions, but you also have to back them up with action. I realized that I had been passive. And I wanted to write about that.

I also did a lot of thinking about why I would behave that way – and about the excuses that I used. So I wrote about one: the idea of favoritism in judging. Just bringing this subject up is what was so incredibly hurtful to others. Because to assume such a thing is ugly and unfair. And ultimately, it’s not really true. And I wanted to write about that.

I tried to offer a different perspective of “favoritism” – one that is human, and well meaning and fair enough. This is what I said: “we will always be more deeply touched by something spoken in a familiar voice.” And I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. It’s the reason that we’re all here – making connections and listening to each other’s stories. The words of a single post can be powerful, but it’s the writer, and their story – and our history with them – that gives a those words life. And that’s a beautiful thing.

It also creates room for people to hide behind the excuse of favoritism. I used that excuse. I was the “Whiny Bitch” in my title. And I’m very ashamed and somewhat humiliated by the admission.

Unfortunately, my natural verbosity seemed to confuse the issue. Particularly since I thought I’d be SUPER helpful in coming up with a few solutions for the BlogHer judging process that could eliminate some of those easy excuses.

Well – my suggestions were kind of a waste of time, because they weren’t really relevant. I won’t go into detail, but the bottom line is that a great deal of thought was put into the judging process and the ideas I proposed have already been taken into consideration.

The other night in an e-mail, I wrote that nothing will ever be 100% objective. There will always be a different set of circumstances to dictate an outcome. But when people make well thought out decisions with good intentions, then the right decisions are made. And if you only focus on disappointment in the outcome and chose to be ungracious about it – then YOU are the one who misses out on something wonderful.

That pretty much sums up what I wanted to say. I wish I had done a better job of it.

This was hard to write and I feel nauseous just thinking about it. I’d rather not. So much easier to focus on the lovely e-mail exchange I’ve had with the person to whom I wrote my first apology. And the hand holding-heart healing phone conversation with the friend who received my last apology.

But as much as I’ve made my peace with this and know that time will do its work on the knots of guilt and remorse that still fill me, this lingering aborted post felt like a loose end. I had to come back here and rewrite it to have real closure. To let anyone who wanders over here know what happened and what I learned from it. Because “learning experience” would be an understatement.

So having had that intense learning experience, I have to ask myself – if I was given the opportunity to go back and do it all differently, would I? And the answer would be….HELL YES! In a heartbeat! Hand me the keys to THAT time machine – because I would give ANYTHING to make it all go away.

But I can’t (stupid scientists and their inability conquer the space-time continuum…) So I have to look for the positive take aways. And I can think of several.

I learned a lot about myself and the kind of person I want to be – and not be. I managed to avoid unnecessary drama. I lost five pounds (KIDDING! Though I really did). I made a new friend. And I was given yet another opportunity to see how truly wonderful and supportive my friends really are.

So wherever you may fit into that… Thank you.

****

I decided to delete and close comments on this. But please feel free to e-mail me if you’d like to discuss any of it.

My Second trip to San Diego this Summer…

13 Replies

…was very different from the first. A friend (I think it was Christy) once told me that you go on trips with your children and take vacations without them. So as much as I loved my first “trip” to San Diego this summer, my second visit proved this sentiment to be apt.

Because that is exactly how I viewed my trip to BlogHer. I didn’t go to connect with brands (although it’s almost impossible not to do some of that!) or to learn the latest and greatest social media venues and strategies. I went to see friends, have dinners at restaurants without kid menus, wear heels before sunset and sleep in the middle of my own bed without ONCE having to get up to the sound of crying.

It was one hell of a vacation.

And I almost didn’t write about it. Mainly because there would be too much to say – or not say… But after being back for a week, I found that I was still thinking about it.

What the hell – I’m just going to write and see what comes out…starting with links and pictures – of which there are few since I never remembered to take any. [Note: due to a crappy netbook that operates at the speed of a 1992 office PC, it’s taken me A WEEK to get this thing done! For those of you who have been asking – sorry for the delay.]

So without further ado, let the linking and image stealing from other sites begin!

I had a crack of dawn flight requiring that I wake up around 3:00 a.m. This, in a word, sucked. But I am so Type A about packing and travel that I probably wouldn’t have slept well anyway. And I could sneak into my babies’ rooms to give them kisses goodbye without having to look them in they eye – something that always knocks me flat with guilt and worry.

Then I skulked outside in the dark, loading my suitcase into a sadistic blue van that insisted I get up THREE HOURS before my 6:00 a.m. flight. But I never had a moment of my usual latesolateohmygodwhydidn’tIleaveearlier panic…so bygones.

My flights were uneventful, barring the last minute cancellation of my first flight, the subsequent switch to a different connecting airport and an hour delay on the second flight. I still made it in by 11:00 a.m. and I even managed to get a little sleep.

I shared cab with two other attendees I met in line. And continuing my streak of connections to Voices of the Year keynotes and honorees, I would later find out that one was an honoree and one was a keynote. I’m telling you – anyone who plans to submit their work for Voices of the Year should befriend me or rub my head for luck or something… Or just get into a cab with me, since I also randomly shared one to Penn Station last year with a 2011 “voice.”

Just saying…

Anyway – the rest of the day was filled with lunch (including my unofficial roommates, as well as some old and new friends)…

Renee, Me, Christy and Chrisy

…catching up with some of my favorite people (one who was much better about suggesting photo ops than I was…)

Me (appearing to have just arrived from an intense Crisco cook off with Paula Dean) and (an annoyingly ungreasy looking) Loukia
…a pedicure, a late afternoon private party, a group dinner (with the some of the ladies above and a few others) and finally a drive-by of the conference parties (where we met up with another dear friend) before I realized that at midnight West Coast time, I had officially been up for 24 hours!

I also managed to pick up a roommate in the midst of all of that meeting and greeting.

I was bitterly disappointed that my planned roommate had to cancel two days before the conference (hot on the heels of having to come to terms with the fact that my good friend and 2010 roommate wasn’t able to make it this year…). But during lunch, I heard about someone’s last minute add-on who would be sleeping on a cot – and suddenly, I had a new roommate! One whom I had never met IRL or online…

Luckily, she ended up being one of my new favorite people. Though I still can’t imagine what possessed me to say, “oh sure – I’d LOVE to share my hotel room with a virtual stranger.” I blame it on the BlogHer fever. It’s a three day long group hug – and even a non-hugger like me can’t resist the love.

Here we are test driving a mattress I could never afford:

Jen, Me, Christy’s huge pregnant belly, and Renee

That? Is one of the five pictures I took at BlogHer. Seriously – what is wrong with me?

Other conference highlights from Friday included catching up with one of my favorite DC bloggers over really bad convention center eggs, hosting the Serenity Suite with a friend who actually thought to get a good picture of us…

“The Bitchin’ Wife” Amy and me – missing the Flash Mob taking place during our shift.
… then attending From Page to Stage, a fantastic session in which Ann Imig and Amy Wilson discussed taking written work and adapting it to be read aloud. This included both editing and performance tips, AND volunteers from the audience were encouraged to read blog posts and receive feedback. Of course I was the first volunteer. I read an old post of mine, I’ve Got Disco in My Soul.

And I’m so glad I did, since it provided me with an opportunity to meet some fabulous new people.

This was kind of a theme for my weekend: seeing and meeting people. People who made me drop the veil of appropriate responses, reserved interactions and general concern about whether I’m overstepping, being a bit too much or assuming intimacy that isn’t there.

I danced my ass off at Sparklecorn and wore a rather unexpected dress to boot. No pictures of course, but believe me – it was not my usual semi-conservative style. In fact, with all of the front and back “plunging” going on, the only bra situation that would work involved sticky silicone. This had the added bonus of bumping me up an entire cup size and making me feel positively obscene. And then of course, being scoffed at by friends more genetically gifted in this area…but that’s beside the point. It was rather splashy for me. And I would probably have looked pretty hot if I wasn’t so inept in my, um…application of the support system. Early in the evening, I was informed that I was a bit lopsided. But in a room that had a 90% female population – I don’t think anyone really cared.

Moving on from my boobs…(probably the first time I’ve ever had to say that)…

I also picked up two new friends at the lobby bar afterward when Jen and I decided to grab a quick drink before turning in for the night. We all bonded over trying to NOT be picked up by truly icky, much older men stalking the parade of BlogHer attendees heading back to their rooms. This resulted in another hour of laughter and over sharing. By far, one of my favorite conversations of the weekend.

The next day, I went to a luncheon hosted by women I hadn’t met before and I completely ignored every wave of shyness that washed over me. It’s intimidating to walk into at room full of people who are so well known and well thought of – to arrive late and alone when everyone is already immersed in animated conversation – to sit down and make yourself talk to people you don’t know…or people who you’re pretty sure don’t know you. In situations like this I immediately become that little girl at a new daycare, watching the other kids play, barely able to speak above a terrified whisper in response to even the friendliest of overtures. It’s hard to push that aside. But I did. And I had a wonderful time, getting to know lovely new friends and spending some time with others I admire but have never had the chance to meet in person.

I spent the rest of that afternoon doing another shift in the Serenity Suite, eating cake pops, catching up with more friends I had not yet seen and NOT being shy around the “big name bloggers” hanging out there. Then trying to introduce myself to Nie Nie at her panel – only to have one of those horribly awkward high schoolish moments when you realize that you’ve approached someone at the absolute worst time and inevitably find yourself standing there like an idiot while you watch them talk to other people. Basically, I thought she was surrounded by other admirers, when in fact she was having a last minute chat with her fellow panelists just before they went on stage. So I didn’t get to meet her. But I was brave about trying – and that counts a lot for me! And of course, I got to hear her speak…

All of that not being shy will take it out of you. And make you hungry. So I was feeling very ready for a relaxed group dinner:

Issa, me, Renee, Stacey, Christy, Megan, Chrisy, Galit and Zak


Thanks to Kim for taking that picture (she’s behind the camera)! And for the life me, I can’t remember why Jen and Joy weren’t there… But this is a good representation of the group I kept coming back to over those few days.

While there were still a couple of evening parties on the schedule, this was probably last time I really sat and talked to people. And after a couple of margaritas, I had a lot to say. That seems to be a pattern for me when cocktails are concerned: share now, cringe later. All worth it though.

I honestly can’t believe that I put on another dress and heels that night (yeah – no, I don’t have pictures – we’ve been over this right?) AND danced. My poor feet… But again – worth it. Especially since the dance floor is where I met yet another charming lady. She saw me speak at Listen to Your Mother (more on that in a minute) and the fact that she made the effort to say hello made me want to cry. Why can’t real life be like this?! I mean to this degree. It’s so incredibly heartwarming.

I don’t even remember the next morning and slept through most of my 6:00 a.m. flight so I think I’ll just stop there. For this post I mean.

I’m going end here and write a separate post on my two favorite moments/events at BlogHer. I attended both the Voices of the Year keynotes and the Listen/Letter to Your Mother open mic salon. And I’ve been thinking and talking about them ever since. And if I’m going to write about that, it will require a separate post. One with very few links because I am LINKED OUT.

Sorry for the abrupt ending but it’s late and I need to get to bed. I’ll try to wrap the next post up all pretty-like with a yellow grosgrain ribbon. Until then!

Flies Like a Butterfly and Stings Like a…Cicada Killer? (AND BlogHer ’11!)

6 Replies

I’ve written recently about our front lawn and all of the varieties of butterfly bush we planted. And not much has changed. Our foliage is still attracting more bees than butterflies.

Luckily they’re mostly cute, fuzzy bumblebees. But still – our front steps are flanked by insects that sting. So that’s not really ideal.

Then a week or two ago, we acquired a new mascot that may just be the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen in my life:

Can you imagine if that thing buzzed around your head every time you left the house?! I think it’s close to two inches long!

I’ve had to be brave for the children and try to keep it busy while leaving the house, so they can make a hasty departure behind me. But I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t scare the bejeezus out of me.

And it doesn’t help that it literally stands sentry – perched on a particular bush, and zooming over to check out anyone walking up or down our stairs.

Also? It looks at you. With those hideous red eyes.

It’s an intelligent monster.

Chris said that he was pretty sure he had seen pictures of this thing before and that it’s called a Wasp Killer: a wasp that looks like a bee and kills other wasps. I assume this means it kills other types of wasps and not its own kind. Aren’t all species hard wired to preserve their own bloodlines while they systematically exterminate everyone else? One would think this applies to Wasps Killers as well.

ANYWAY – one morning Chris sent me an e-mail asking me to take a picture of it so he could show a friend. A super fun activity, since another Wasp Killer had apparently challenged our guy and they were locked in mortal combat right in front of our door. I hid behind the screen door while poking my camera out to snap pictures every time one of them would land on the bush.

Oliver tried to step around me to get a better view and I shoved him back so hard you would think a great white shark had just chewed its way out of the concrete in front of us.

No kidding – even the bumblebees looked scared.

But I did manage to capture the two images above. They don’t really convey the sense menace we all feel in this bug’s presence…but they do provide a good representation of its appearance.

Later on I got a reply from Chris telling me that we are not in fact being terrorized by a Wasp Killer.

His friend, Blake saw the pictures and immediately recognized the beast as a Cicada Killer. He, said that when he first saw one, he ran screaming like a little girl. But later he found out that they look scarier than they actually are.

Not at all dangerous to humans, the males are aggressive when defending their territory against other males, but have no sting. The females do sting but only as a means of paralyzing cicadas. They rarely sting people – and only if they are “grasped roughly or stepped on with bare feet” [as if someone could miss one of those dinosaur-sized bugs!].

So it appears we are currently hosting a male. One who is just defending his (our) territory and can’t sting us anyway.

That does give me some peace of mind – and little inclination to call an exterminator… But really, couldn’t we just have a BUTTERFLIES guarding our front steps? It’s not like we planted a bumblebee bush or a Cicada Killer bush. Sheesh. On to happier subjects though – I leave tomorrow for BlogHer 2011!

I attended for the first time last year, and wrote a pre-conference post that pretty much holds true for this year as well. So I won’t duplicate that. Instead I’ll list a few things that I wouldn’t miss for the world – just in case you want to find me. These would be good places to look:

My two Serenity Suite shifts: Friday 12-1 p.m. and Saturday 2-3 p.m. I did this last year too and it was definitely highlight. It was so nice to have a quiet place to hang out with people – catch up with friends and meet new ones… Even though I’m scheduled to be there each day, I’ll probably still drop by if I have some free time.

The Friday 1:15 p.m. session: From Page to Stage.  I can’t wait to hear more about how the speakers used their written work as inspiration for stage shows. And if you bring a post or something else you’ve written, you can read it there and get their feedback. I’m definitely volunteering. Why not? Everyone can benefit from public speaking training – and this would be a good opportunity to get a few ideas about your strengths and areas that need improvement.

Voices of the Year keynote. Everyone goes to this – but I mainly want to be there to hear a good friend (and fantastic writer) read one of her beautiful pieces. Last year I knew THREE out of the 15 readers and this year there is another friend to support. And I’m all about feeling special by association…

Listen to Your Mother open mic event later that evening. This may be the one thing I’m most looking forward to. A few years ago when I first read about BlogHer and saw pictures of the “Community Keynote” (as the VOTY keynote was previously called) I envisioned something like an all-day salon where anyone could get up and read. From someone quietly slipping in to listen for a while – to groups of friends daring each other to “get up there!” A bit like karaoke? I’ll put my name in the hat – but assuming that there will be many of us, it’s likely that I won’t make it out of the audience. That’s okay though – I’m far more interested in listening than speaking at this. And of course, when it’s over, I’ll just make all of my friends sit down outside the room and listen to me. I’m calling it “Voices of the Lobby.” I think it’s really going to catch on…

The Conference Receptions – particularly Sparklecorn and Aiming Low. Last year I overdid it and was too tired the last night to dance. This time around I know better and plan to take it easy – maybe even sleep in. No drifting around fun parties like a zombie!

And finally – I will definitely drop by the Queen Bee Market taking place at the Bayfront Hilton all day Saturday. Support Handmade! [insert fist pumping here] Soooo looking forward to discovering new artists.

Of course I’m going to a few private parties and have various dinners and lunches planned with friends – but I wanted to steer clear of any name dropping this time around. There are too many and I can get a little link crazy.

If we haven’t met before but you recognize me from my profile picture, please say hi! I’ll admit that I don’t look like a real sparkler – but that’s just a mild case of chronic bitch face. I’m actually very friendly. And I’ll appreciate it since I have a shy streak and am subject to inconvenient bouts of insecurity. I talk a good game on my blog – but I do my fair share of time travel back to high school. And you know what they say about BlogHer…it’s a lot like…

Anyway – if you’re going, I’ll see you there! And if you’re not, you’ll be missed! And if you have no idea what what I’m talking about – maybe it’s best left at that.

See you next week!

The Good News and the Bad News (New Writing Opportunity and BlogHer 2011 VOTY)

10 Replies

First, the good!

I’m going to write regularly (twice a month) for a new website, HealthNews. And no – I don’t have any knowledge of or experience in the health industry. Unless you count two maternity ward stays and a hernia repair surgery in the hospital. I haven’t confirmed this, but I actually don’t think that counts… There is a blogger community growing there though – people who write about all things parenting. And I DO have knowledge of and experience in that!

I’m honored to be part of this, and just posted my first article: I Didn’t Know.

Here is the beginning:

I have three children and my oldest, Oliver is six. He is a big boy – tall and strong – and all boy. He climbs trees and hurtles into swimming pools. He loves nothing better than a good patch of dirt. We jokingly call him Pig Pen since he will often return from such a spot, haloed in dust – his clothes emitting puffs of dirt with each step. Ice cream cones are a full body experience. Napkins are a joke. This degree of messiness requires a wash cloth at minimum. His requests to “come look at this,” often involve a worm.

These are some of the qualities and quirks that come to mind when I think of Oliver. They are so defining. And they are almost all related to sensory integration disorder. Which includes auditory processing disorder…which translates into significant language and communication delays. It also affects his motor planning. My amazing son who can walk a balance beam like a gymnast – who taught himself to swim – who can carry a full basket of folded laundry up the stairs…can’t hit a tennis ball. He can’t follow simple directions to touch his left hand to his right ear and his right hand to his left ear. He can’t process that kind of information – hear it, understand it, do it. It gets scrambled. For all of his strength, coordination and love of physical activities – he can’t play sports. Or even tag.

This can change – but it will take time. And hard work. And money. And a label recognized by the public school system.

It’s both encouraging and daunting.

Having a special needs child is not something I ever thought about when I was pregnant with Oliver. Everyone knows that it’s possible, but I think we tend to see that possibility the same way we do car accidents and winning lottery tickets. We know it could happen, but we don’t expect it to happen to us.

And many of us don’t even know that it’s happened to us until our children are long past the early months of worry. The more serious worries over SIDS and their “ability to thrive,” and the less serious (but all consuming) concern about sleep schedules. Oliver was two when we discovered his delays.

Click here to read the rest…

So that’s exciting…

In other news – meaning “the bad” – I got my “thanks for submitting, but…” email from BlogHer for this year’s Voices of the Year today.

And just like most others in the same boat, I find it more disappointing than surprising (if that makes sense). And a small disappointment at that since I saw submitting my work more as an act of self validation than a request for recognition.

You see – I’ve already thought it through. Last year in fact. And I wrote about it then. I’d like to repost (most of) that here so anyone feeling rejected or slighted (or generally shitty about things) might drop by and feel validated by me. For having the courage to put yourself out there. To think you’re worth recognition, and to let others know about it.

Anyway – here it is for what it’s worth:

BlogHer Voices of The Year Were Announced Today! My Reaction: The Good the Bad and the (Sad But True) Ugly

First the good!

When I glanced through the list of finalists this morning, I was thrilled to see that some of my very favorite bloggers (and even friends) will actually present in a couple of weeks at 2010 BlogHer Voices of the Year. I can honestly say that I’ve read pretty much every post from some of these writers (I mean – since I’ve been blogging…their pre-2008 material is before my time), and to think that they have been honored for words that made me laugh and/or cry makes me feel part of something bigger than my own little piece of Internet real estate.

So the very first thing I want to do is congratulate…

[blah blah blah – love her – link – blah blah blah – love her – link…]

I can’t wait to hear them read their words on stage AND to see the art that will be auctioned off reflecting each piece.

[blah blah – friend contributing her photography for the auction – link – blah blah… seriously – I am congratulating my ass off here…]

But what about the bad? What could be bad about that?

Well – here’s the bad.

One of MY nominations that I was so confident would be in the top 15 didn’t get picked. But it’s not all bad…

[blah blah – that friend and some others WERE actually in the top 75 and would be recognized at the reception – blah blah – GO TEAM!]

So yeah – many wonderful blog friends have been recognized in one way or another. I’m really happy for them – and can’t wait to tell them so in person.

But.

There’s the ugly…

I’m sorry – but I’m trying to keep it real here because…well no reason really – I just feel like it today. And lucky you – you get to hear about it!

Before I get into the muck and grime, I’ll start with a little tale about a three year old angel of a girl named Eleanor. Eleanor is a delight. She’s lovely and full of fun (and – cough, cough – my daughter) – and she is at a very impressionable age.

The other week, we were in California on vacation with my in laws who had a fantastic time being a very bad influence on my children. Late night baseball game outings…unlimited snack food that they never get at home…special presents just because they want them… You know – grandparent stuff. And one evening my sweet little girl was lucky enough to have their undivided attention. They played a kids’ bingo game with the odds drastically stacked in Eleanor’s favor.

And then the sh*t talking started.

Mama Sue: Eleanor – we’re not going to let Papa win! YOU’RE going to win.

Eleanor (very much liking this line of thought): Yeah! YOU’RE not going to win Papa. I’M going to win. You CAN’T win!

And so on and so on and so on [insert uproarious indulgent grandparental laughter here].

SO CUTE, right?

I actually thanked them at the time for my own future hell to come when faced with the next preschool gaming situation.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, and we are playing another bingo game at home (what is it with us bingo anyway? We may as well hustle on over to the community center for seniors’ night out this Friday…) Anyway – we were playing a very fair game that included Eleanor, a semi-involved George and a completely disinterested Oliver. Eleanor immediately started in with her “I’m gonna win” talk, even though her brothers couldn’t have cared less. Since no one was getting special treatment, George (who may have been in the kitchen looking for snacks at the time) won.

Chris said, “Hey look! George is the winner!” And…Eleanor fell to pieces. She really believed that she would always win. No one ever talked to her about the reality of losing. So after some piercing glares and and semi-subtle head tilting from me, Chris took Eleanor aside to talk about what it means to lose.

And as I listened, it occurred to me that the bottom line is the same for everyone regardless of age. If you lose – you have to keep trying. Don’t get mad – just try again. It’s not anyone’s favorite answer. In fact, it’s tedious at best…but it’s very simply true. You really can’t win them all. In fact you might lose them all – but you have to try to have a chance.

SO that brings me to the ugly involved in this year’s BlogHer Voices of the Year selections. As much as we are over the moon excited for the winners – it’s unavoidable that some others were very disappointed.

Because you know what? I’m one of them. And I’m hideously embarrassed to admit that.

When a good friend asked if I’d like her to submit anything for me, I honestly hadn’t considered even trying. I mean, I like what I write, and my small circle of friends and readers give me positive feedback – but I’ve never been the one picked out of the crowd. Always a bridesmaid and never a bride and all that… And really that’s been kind of fine with me because I’ve always felt far more comfortable in the faded perimeter of the spotlight.

But just the idea of submitting something of mine gave birth to “what if.” And that is a very powerful concept. So for once I was bold and asked for recognition. I forwarded two links to posts that mean a lot to me – ones that fill me with emotion when I read them – and said “send them in.” Doesn’t sound like much – but it’s a BIG deal for a mild mannered girl such as myself.

Then time passed and my “what if” was put into the proper perspective. It was a “wouldn’t that be nice – but it’s highly unlikely” (the overcompensating, insecure hope of “what if”).

Most of the time, I really didn’t consider it, but every once in a while something would be mentioned about Voices of the Year, and I’d notice that pretty little “what if” sparkling on my right hand ring finger. I’d taken it for granted, but was happy to admire it now and again.

At some point last week, I read that the 75 finalists as well as the 15 winners would be announced today. And I did something previously unthinkable.

I hoped.

I dreamed.

I even planned.

Why not? I typically live so small – what would it hurt to think big for a little while. Even knowing that disappointment was probable, couldn’t I weigh the universe in my favor with my longing? The Secret said it totally works! Ah well…I think we all let our imaginations get the best of us sometimes.

Last night when I was talking to Chris about BlogHer and the agenda (he’s in the conference planning world, so he’s actually interested), I explained how the Voices of the Year session was planned. I mentioned that I had a couple of posts submitted, “but – they’re two out of a thousand – so you know…”

His reaction was a little more positive though. He said “why not you?”

And that small part of me that wants to be bigger than I really am thought, “that’s right! Why NOT me?” So for one whole night I believed in myself. Not just “what if” – but “why not?”

Well – I don’t need to give too much detail on the obvious outcome. Even if you’re not familiar with the list of finalists, you can pretty much guess that I wasn’t one of them.

And I was disappointed. Not so much that I wasn’t one of the top 15 (remember – I like the peripheral area of the spotlight), but more so because the words that once poured directly out of my heart weren’t even an almost.

It’s not pretty – but it’s the truth. And we’ve all experienced this at some point in our lives, so I’m not afraid to put it out there. I would be very surprised if there was anyone who couldn’t relate to this on some level.

But you know what? I don’t think disappointment or jealousy or envy are so bad. They’re just feelings. And at the very best, they are a sign of trying. Of wanting. Of putting ourselves out there and risking rejection. There is honor in that. And I’m proud of my battle scars.

Envy isn’t a particularly attractive emotion – it’s even classified as a sin (one of the top seven!). But a little green eyed monster never hurts anyone if kept on a short leash (and kenneled as quickly as possible). At worst – it shows our ugly. At best, it keeps us real.

So for anyone else who felt a little “why not me” today (or even “why never me?“), I’d like to honor you for trying. It takes courage to try. You’d be surprised how many people never do.

And in return, I’d like to ask you one thing. Please read my own small attempts:

I Never Thought I’d Wear Sunglasses (Alternatively Titled: Shooting Practice Starts Tomorrow)

I am so proud of those words. This blog is the first real writing that I’ve ever done outside of work documents and personal e-mails. I always lived so small – never tried to be noticed. I had ideas but didn’t bother to recognize their value.

Then I started a blog. A small thing really – but so big in my own cautious little world. Putting words online is literally putting yourself out there. Asking to been seen and heard – and it’s opened my eyes to endless possibility for me.

I may never win anything – but I’ll keep trying. Because “what if” holds far more power then “why bother.”

And what about you? I want to hear your voice too. Did you submit something there or elsewhere? Did you find out that a friend did so for you? OR did you not even try for fear of disappointment or exposure? Send me a link to the words that make you proud, the ones that make you believe in yourself – or should. I will read them.

I still believe in myself. And I’ll probably submit something of my own next year. I hope you do the same.

Have courage. Be bold. Keep trying.

Hey – it worked for Susan Lucci.

So that’s what I had to say about BlogHer VOTY in 2010. It’s how I still feel in 2011.

And you know what? I totally submitted that.