Have You Seen My Brain?

The jet lag, she is a wicked mistress.  Jack keeps saying "Mommy? Do you need some coffee?" .  But it's not just the time difference... I am feeling the void that my girls left behind.  And nobody in my house can give a proper accessory critique.  I have worn flip-flops for 3 days now, and THEY ARE LETTING ME GET AWAY WITH IT.  If this keeps up, I will be busting out the banana clips and skorts in no time.  Save me!

It's so surreal, the being back home and doing of housework.  Oh, and lest I forget, the changing of diapers.  How lovely was it to wipe no behind but my own for 4 whole days, you ask?  SO LOVELY.  But all that was (nearly) forgotten the moment two sets of pudgy arms wrapped around my kneecaps.  It's a fine line to walk, this place between carefree city girl and pony-tailed, yoga-panted Mom.  

And I left my creativity swirling around in the ether, up with the foggy blanket over San Francisco.  I like to think it's just marinating there, soaking up a bit more of the melancholy of the bay.  Perhaps it will return to me once it is fully saturated.  Until then, I can always just post more photos of my dog in funny hats, right?  Or I could, um, plagiarize myself and take my email ramblings and put them up as today's post.  Which do you think I chose? (Mocha knows.)

And now off we go for the pre-kindergarten physical.  There will be shots, and so also tears... and then ice cream. 

This Is Not The Post You're Looking For.

No Jedi Mind Trick intended.  Seriously. This is not the post you are probably expecting.

See, the thing is, I am still working on processing the events of the past 4 days.  This conference, this Mythical THING that I attended, is still being digested.  It's a bit like the old saying about eating an elephant: one bite at a time.  

Here are a few quick bullets.  Think of them as a quick snack, with the more filling meal to follow.

* MochaMomma and Mallory the Magnificent were quite possibly the best roommates in history.  I felt like I was part of the world's most awesome sleepover.  Also, they swear I didn't snore AT ALL.  I suspect they're either sparing my feelings or just really, REALLY heavy sleepers.  Either way? Rule.

* I am officially in love with The Redneck Mommy.  I mean, I already had total girl-crushdom on her, but now I officially wanted to put her in my pocket and take her home with me.  I don't think she would have minded, but when I gave it more thought I realized that I don't really want to bring someone so obviously hotter than me home to meet Big Daddy.  The man might get ideas, and in my currently delicate condition I might be too slow to successfully beat his senses back into him with my ham sandwich.

* My one big regret of the conference would have been missing the Mighty Haus launch party but, after shaking my oh-so-pregnant groove thang for hours at the Ruby Skye party, I headed to bed just in time.  By the next morning my pelvis was creaking and it took me a good half hour to relearn how to walk properly.  So, yes, I missed my chance to give a heartfelt fangirl shout-out to Dooce and many others.  I did manage to steal a brief moment to chat with Mighty Maggie after her panel, though, and she was as lovely and gracious as I imagined she would be.  Also, she brought the leftover Krispy Kremes from her party to give out after her panel, and thereby purchased a special place in heaven.  (nummmmm, Krispy Kremes. Remind me someday to regale you with the glorious tales of Friday nights and a dozen fresh Krispy Kremes back in the glory days of a little site called Kozmo.com).

* People I am happy to have finally met face-to-face, however briefly:  Redsy, Velma Smeddling, Fluid Pudding, Oh, The Joys,  Amalah, and others I know I should remember and will look like a loser for forgetting to mention but oh mah gawd I am so tired and please forgive me and comment and remind me that Hi! We met, and I said it was great, and now I'm acting all aloof and do you want to break up or what, because we should totally meet up behind the gym after fifth period and have The Talk or whatever.  Also, most of the people I DID remember to mention will likely be all "MeL WHO, now?".  Oh, and I also met Bossy, who I was somehow unaware of until her Excellent Road Trip Adventures.  Her blog makes me laugh with regularity.  She is much taller than I expected, and also I might have accidentally almost strangled her with her scarf while attempting to dance with her at one of the parties - so basically SHE will remember me, but only as the insane pregnant woman who attempted to suffocate her with her own accessories, the end.

The posts I will write later, the ones brewing in my impish head, have less to do with the adventures of BlogHer than with the ideas that were planted in my head there.  The conversations were multitude, and I have been thinking through several essays on topics raised there.  So keep your eyes open for coming-soon posts on topics like Body Image, Why I Write, and MommyBlogging as a Radical Act.  These things require further percolating.  For now, then, I will continue to digest and maybe post some of the few photos I remembered to take.  

Also, I have to catch up on the latest episodes of Avatar, So You Think You Can Dance, and Monk.  Because, you know, Mama needs her stories.

Be Sure To Wear A Flower In Your Hair.

San Francisco.  The city is the same and different all at once; it's foggy and cool here, and the view from the 32nd floor party room was spectacular.

So far I have:

*Unwittingly snubbed a fellow BlogHer (sorry about not being more chatty on the shuttle! I was, um, sweaty. and tired. and didn't realize I probably came off as an unfriendly whore until much, much later.)

* Been screamed at by an Angry German.  Apparently I was supposed to print off the confirmation email to prove I had prepaid for my shuttle ride.  I didn't realize this, and I wasn't about to fork over another $20 (which I didn't have on me, anyway).  My apologies to the people who had to wait in the shuttle while I called my husband to get the confirmation number, and then while Mr. Angry German tried to call it in to confirm.  Also, apologies on his behalf to the people who got stuck behind the blue van because Mr. Angry German had parked illegally.  

*Attended 2 parties.  I met and molested several notables: Redneck Mommy? As UberHot as she appears in photos.  Oh, The Joys? Shorter and even more adorable than you thought.  CityMama?  I almost peed my pants when she looked at my business card and said "Hey! I know this blog."  

And now? Now it is approximately 11pm California time. That's 2am EST for those of you keeping track at home.  My head is going to explode any second, so I'm off to sleep.  I'll wave at Mallory for you; MochaMomma? She's still out painting the town somewhere.  That woman? Knows how to party.

To be continued, my friends.

Things You Should Know.

In just over 24 hours I will be heading to the airport for my 4 day Girl Extravaganza at BlogHer 2008.

If I didn't already have bladder control issues (thank you, pregnancy) this would likely send me running for a dry pair of granny panties.  I'm looking forward to meeting, in person, people who I have learned to adore on the internet.  I can't wait to put names with faces and grope give hugs to people whose words have alternately entertained, inspired, and elevated me. 

This woman is all big and important and, in case you haven't heard, an INTERNET PHENOMENON, etc, etc, etc.  When I stumbled across her, however, she was my first brush with a "mommy blogger" and her words helped me laugh and cry and find solace in some of the darkest days of my post-partum depression.  I had no idea she was a "somebody", but in those difficult days she never knew that she was the girlfriend who sat and had coffee with me and said "I've been there, and this will get better. You will get through this."  Also, she is a keynote speaker at the conference this year.  That feels like something coming full circle for me.

So, yeah, I have a lot of expectations about this conference.  And I'm hoping to meet a few people who can tell me Where To Go Next, because I do have the desire to branch out and maybe take on a few assigned pieces for other sites or something to that effect.  Because - all evidence to the contrary - I AM interested in writing about things besides the kids, my dog, my breasts, and the voices in my head.  So there's that.

In the interest of full disclosure, then, there are a few things you should know about me before my grand "coming out" at BlogHer.  

1) As I write this, I am sitting in my favorite multi-purpose item of maternity clothing: a shapeless, black, stretchy cotton housedress thing.  When I arrive in San Francisco with my multitude of carefully coordinated outfits, complete with matching jewelry, shoes, and purses, please recognize that I am not actually That Put Together.  It's a carefully crafted illusion, and when I get home I will probably take entirely too much joy in placing my fancy kicks back up on their shelf and slipping my feet into my fuzzy pink house slippers.

2) I am a drinker.  I am NOT an alcoholic, but were it not for the small resident in my uterus I would take great pleasure in joining you for a cocktail or three.  That said, my family has a talent for acting like a buncha drunks without the aid of alcohol.  Don't believe me? Just ask any of the many guests who asked, rather doubtfully, after my wedding if I was SURE my mormon family members weren't sneaking drinks behind the curtain.  Surprisingly, an overabundance of personality can be achieved without the aid of alcohol.  So if I appear a bit tipsy, rest assured it's just my natural exuberance.

3) If I remain sitting to talk to you, it's because my feet/back/pelvis/(insert other appropriate body part here) is aching from carrying the weight of another large baby.  Please don't think I'm rude, it's just that I'm quite ponderously large.  Also, I am not due until September so PLEASE don't ask me if I'm sure there's not twins in there.  I really am that big; I really am having just one; I'm really not due for another few months.  So glad we could get that out of the way.

4) Feel free to rub the belly, unless you are creepy or certifiable.  I am a firm believer that the buddha belly is good luck, and if spreading a little luck around will come back to help me out... well, my karma can always use a boost.  

5) Bonus points to anyone who says things like "You only had one dessert; now you need to eat one for the baby!" or "But you look too fantastic to be having your THIRD baby!"  I'll know that you're lying, but I'll love you anyway.

6) If I swap my fabulous shoes for a pair of flip-flops sometime during the afternoon, please pretend not to notice.  Pregnant women? Our feet swell in the summer.

7) If you recognize me, PLEASE come and say hello!  I may act skittish and awkward, but that's just because I'm not used to it yet.  I made an art form of being invisible for most of my adolescence, and breaking out of that mold is not the easiest thing to do.  

8) When I get nervous, I tend to talk faster and faster until I may appear to be speaking a foreign language.  I'm working on it; please forgive me.   

9) In attempt to curb inappropriate language use in front of the small humans I have developed a whole host of "alternative curses" which may include such phrases as "Jimminy Christmas!", "Son of a biscuit!", "Frickity-fricking-FRAKK!".  Please avert your eyes and understand that I am aware of my own weirdness.  I'm quirky - let's just accept that and move on.

10) I really suck at keeping lists, being on time, and pretty much anything that involves minute-to-minute organization.  If I stumble into a session 10 minute late, please smile encouragingly and offer me the open seat next to you.  I promise it will be worth your while; what I lack in organizational skills I more than make up for with charm... and chocolate.  Also, I usually smell very nice.

So there we are.  I'm sure there's more that you should know about me, but that will give you a good base.  Well, that and a fair warning that I have a habit of smacking people I find charming on their bum.  Like I said, I'm a little quirky.

I'm not sure how much time I'll have for posting while I'm on my adventure; I do expect to twitter at least intermittently, so you can look for me there.. but just in case you're not going to be in San Francisco this weekend, let's plan to meet back here on Monday, shall we?

Rejected but not Dejected.

So to the surprise of exactly nobody, I was not selected to read at the BlogHer Community Keynote.  However, that said and my minor disappointment aside, quite a few people whom I alternately admire and adore were, indeed, selected. I will live vicariously through them and also probably give them some of my drink tickets so I can watch enviously as they sip the martinis I wish I could have.

Although technically my drink tickets don't belong to me and I'm really giving away her drink tickets, since as my room mate she has already staked her fair claim on them.  

But I digress, and y'all can fight her for them later.  Seriously. I'll make a fortune selling tickets to that spectacular, which is much more reasonable than my idea for the Pregnant Caged Death Match - Me vs. Amalah.  Because everyone knows pregnant women don't do caged death matches.  At least not when there is a buffet in the vicinity.  Unless they're fighting over the last slice of pineapple upside-down cake.  MMmm.... cake.

But, er, BlogHer is only a week away, people!  My head is aching with the sorting through my rapidly dwindling selection of "cute maternity clothes that still fit my enormously bulky girth" and the choosing between money for groceries or a new pair of lust-worthy shoes.

So dedicated am I to this whole proposition that I even managed to give myself a pedicure today.  Imagine sitting on a kitchen chair with a yoga ball strapped to your stomach. Good. Now try to lean over and reach your toes.  Yeah, that's a fair approximation of what I just went through.  But I managed it, and my feet are velvety soft and the french pedicure even came out respectable.  You may now marvel at the greatness of my accomplishment.  Me? I'll be over here snarfing down more cake.

OH! And speaking of cake... (smooth transition, right?!)

Happy 30th Birthday to Big Daddy!

We celebrated the occasion early - way back on the 4th - so that he could be surrounded by loved ones when he came to terms with his mortality blew out his candles.  I even got a cake with appropriately funerary festive black roses, because I'm thoughtful that way.

Mmm... cake.

Does not look 30.

So today he is OFFICIALLY 30, and we celebrated again with a Funfetti cake expertly crafted with the help of the small humans.  Also, he received new boxer shorts and Hanes undershirts as gifts because, obviously, I am the best wife EVAR.  

Actually, his real gift comes this weekend when he heads out to the wilds of the New River for a weekend of camping and whitewater rafting with the proverbial "guys".  I'm not sure what all this weekend entails beyond probably head injuries, possible drowning, and the odd weenie roast. (Not a euphemism... so far as I am aware, anyway).  I'm guessing there will also be mass quantities of beer and maybe some manly chest bumping.

So Happy Birthday, Baby.  Enjoy all the opportunities for untimely death and male bonding.  Just be careful, and remember that you're not as young as you used to be.  You know - like, yesterday.

No One Expects The Spanish Inquisition.

Wow. I mean, just... wow.

I made it through to week 20 of this pregnancy without puking. NO VOMIT. I may have mentioned this before, but I really hate throwing up.

So finding out that Big Daddy's food poisoning incident on Tuesday was not, in fact, food poisoning... was not a good thing. Especially not good was finding out this vital piece of data at around 10pm on Wednesday, when my crushing headache suddenly turned into nausea and ferocious projectile vomiting.

Followed by raging diarrhea. (And.. you're welcome.)

Violent fluid loss in all possible ways from my body pretty much sums up the activities of the subsequent 24-hour period. Let's not even talk about the clean-up that was required, and just say that my husband is a raging candidate for sainthood. He's really earning his 30th birthday present (whitewater rafting with "The Guys" in July.)

The one bright spot in the clamoring chaos of the past week?

I have reserved an hotel room at the Westin St. Francis, San Francisco, for BlogHer. This room, where I anticipate late nights of giggling and intermittent weeping to take place, will be shared with This Lovely Lady... on condition that I promised my husband not to start a torrid affair with her. I did, however, receive permission to smack her on the bum with wild abandon. Also, since she is somewhat infamous for her wild abandon in bestowing random acts of licking, there will be a detailed diagram of "places I may be licked by mochamomma without having to confess and repent to my husband after the fact". Good thing I kept all those blank anatomical diagram sheets from nursing school. heh.

So I return you to your regularly scheduled programming. I, for one, will now commence laying prostrate on the sofa waiting for my strength to return.

California, Here I Come.

Well, y'all... I went and did it. I got myself registered for BlogHer '08!

After much hemming and hawing (I'm not sure exactly what that means, but in my case it involves eating a lot of fudge and chewing my fingernails) I finally decided to go ahead and do it. SO! I'm going to San Francisco in July. I'll arrive a day early so I can hopefully catch up with a few folks I haven't seen in a while and maybe I'll finally take that tour of Alcatraz. I hear it's pretty spiffy.

Who am I kidding? I'll be shopping and wandering my romantic, misty city by the bay in my full pregnant glory, probably mugging small children for their candy outside of Ghirardhelli Square. And I'll be Kid. Free. For 3 whole days. Won't you join me for (cooked) sushi and a (virgin) cocktail, internets?

So now I can begin to formulate my brilliant plan, wherein I ensconce myself in the midst of some of the beautiful, brilliant blogging women whom I worship admire. Or, I might just attend the sessions, take lots of notes, and end up feeling like I'm back in high school, reading Nicholas and Alexandra at my locker during lunch. Either way, there is much to be learned, there are sights to be seen, and there are cocktail parties to attend. Of course, I won't actually be able to enjoy the cocktails, but at least now I have an excuse to wear the completely non-sensible shoes in my collection in the company of the women who can enjoy a few appletinis, or whatever it is the kids are imbibing these days.

Next problem: Finding a roommate so I'm not forced to pawn one of the children to pay for accomodations.