Sometimes when I think about the Internet, it reminds me a little of where the Munchkins live in the Wizard of Oz. It’s magical. It’s a techno-color version of real life, a place to escape and try to make sense of what hurts you and scares you. Sometimes I feel like Dorothy, standing wide-eyed, mouth…
My four-year-old son gently placed our menorah in the front window last week. He climbed onto the window seat, centered its heavy silver arms squarely against the glass, and hopped back down. “Look Mommy, it’s ready for candles! There’s the Shamash!” On a menorah, the center candle is called the Shamash. It’s the “helper” candle, the one that we…
This space has been kind of quiet lately. I’ve taken a step back. I came home from BlogHer12 with more questions than answers. When a friend asked me about my trip to NYC today, I told her the truth. I felt fulfilled by BlogHer, and yet it pulled back the curtains on some ugly truths. …
As 4,000 bloggers unpack their suitcases and settle into the laundry/write/prepare dinner routine across the country, the proverbial Internet river has suddenly swelled with “Post BlogHer Recap” posts. I’ve spent a few days on my little lifeboat, floating down the Twitter stream, comparing and contrasting my own BlogHer re-entry with that of other bloggers. What…
In the months leading up to BlogHer12, I pored over the internet in an attempt to find advice about what to expect. I wanted the truth about BlogHer. I wanted the outtakes. I wanted the dirt. The nitty-gritty. NOT more information about shoes, or outfits, or business cards. What I found were generalizations. “Be yourself.…
Too.much.stuff. Too many wardrobe options to pack. Too many things rolling around in my brain. Two days left, and then we leave for BlogHer 12. I have been listening carefully to everyone’s words of wisdom about bringing comfortable shoes. There are breakfasts and sessions and workshops and keynotes and parties and expos and parties and…
Friends, please say hello to “Safety Turtle”. He lives in the projector on Max’s nightstand, and is accompanied every bedtime by the sound of ocean waves crashing. Safety Turtle is my hero. Max was sleeping at 8:10 am this morning. And even though it’s only happened two three times recently, I am giving the credit…