Thankful for Seven Years

It was seven years ago on this day that I created a blog on Blogger and typed out my first post as A Mommy Story. It was definitely nothing for the memory books, just a “hey, I’m here!” post, my first time with a fully public blog after spending a few years with a LiveJournal account that was semi-private.

I’m still here. Things have changed dramatically from where they were seven years ago, but I still keep coming back here and writing my thoughts when I get the chance.

Seven years ago I was a first time mom with a 14 month old who was my world. I was still caught up in the honeymoon of parenting, still swooning over all the firsts and panicked over every little detail that could affect her health, safety and happiness.

Blogs at the time were my source of commiseration and education – I found others who shared similar parenting philosophies, those who were in the same stage that I was, and those who were beyond my stage but were models to aspire to. After commenting on many blogs, I decided it was time to start my own, to share my stories in my space going forward that might help or inspire others. Or maybe just make them laugh every now and then, sometimes not intentionally.

Now, of course, I’m a more…ummm…seasoned mother. The story has changed through the years, and my available time has diminished, but I’m still here. I couldn’t imaging stepping away and cutting myself off from the friends and community I’ve found through this blog. 

So today, on my seven year blogiversary (it’s totally a real word), and also being Thanksgiving, I’m thankful for all of the people who have shared this space with me. Thank you for reading, for sharing your thoughts in return, for the occasional emails, and for sticking with me even when the story goes through a slow period. Thank you for being so friendly and kind when we’ve had the chance to meet in person, for helping me when I’ve reached out to some of you for help or advice, and for looking past my flaws and my serious lack of attention.

I’m also so thankful for all of the opportunities this blog has given me. Without my little corner of the internet, I never would have been on local TV a few times, never would have worked for Disney for a little over a year, never would have traveled to so many cities for conferences, never would have walked in a fashion show, never would have fallen into the amazing job I have now, and I would have been completely lost when Cordy was diagnosed with autism.

Most importantly, this blog has helped introduce me to so many amazing people, both via our blogs and in person, some of whom I’m honored to call friends.

So happy Thanksgiving everyone, and thank you for being a part of my life via this little blog. Today I’m thankful for these seven years and for all of you.

Except spammers. I’m not so thankful for you. Although the latest spam comment of “Hello, all is going nicely here and of course every one is sharing information, that’s in fact excellent, keep up writing.” kinda makes me feel all warm inside, in a bad-grammar-compliment kind of way.

Here’s to another seven years. That is, in fact, excellent.



Double Agent

As I prepare for BlogHer this week, I’ve been bubbling over with excitement about seeing old friends and immersing myself in 5 days of IRL blogging heaven. This has occasionally resulted in my having to explain my excitement to those around me, followed by not taking their strange looks personally.

It’s hard to be a blogger, yo.

I often feel like I’m living two lives. One life is a nurse, working a steady full-time job, going to the grocery, picking my kids up from summer camp, sitting through business meetings at work, doing laundry, keeping strong opinions to myself, occasionally meeting up with friends, and watching TV with my husband in the evenings.

But then there’s my other life. In that life I write about my inner thoughts on the internet, converse with friends I know in person and those I’ve never met across the globe, share openly my struggles with ADD and my daughter’s autism, attend conferences of like-minded geeky people who like to talk with each other on the internet, leverage my virtual soapbox to give my opinion on products and services and provide feedback directly to big companies that otherwise wouldn’t notice me, occasionally discuss money, politics, religion or some other topic we’re not supposed to discuss in polite company, and freely dance my way across social media platforms, interacting with those who cross my path.

My other life sure seems like a lot more fun sometimes.

I often look at my two separate-but-not-equal lives and wonder which one is the real me? Or are they both different parts of me, like the Freudian id and ego?

My daily life requires me to constantly censor myself to fit in, molding every action and word to fit in with what is expected of me. Some of it is the real me, but parts are an act, an elaborate character I play when the need arises. Stick to the superficial when interacting with others in public, bury deep your true feelings so as not to offend anyone, try to blend with the crowd. And for goodness sakes, don’t talk about your blog or anything geeky, lest you be branded a complete weirdo!

In college, I was praised by my sorority (wha? yes, I was in a sorority – stop laughing) for being great at the small-talk required during rush. But small talk was easy; scripted conversation starters with a mental list of how to respond to various answers made it a game. Ask me to have more in-depth conversations, though, and the conversations quickly deteriorated as I lost my ability to be chatty and instead panicked.

Online I still must censor myself, but in a different way. Here I hide specifics of the superficial details: my daily schedule, where my children attend school, details about my job, etc. Yet here my inner soul is on display, and writing serves as an outlet for that part of me that is kept bottled up every day. My interactions here are with people who I share something in common with on a more personal level, instead of the superficial level of proximity. On my blog, I don’t feel the need to hold back on my opinions – anyone who reads them is here in my space and free to leave if they disagree.

So which is the real me? Blogging conferences always put this to the test. My online self is on display in person, interacting real-time with those I enjoy talking to online. Only without the luxury of taking the time to craft a thought-provoking or witty response. (There’s no backspace key in real life.) I always worry I’m going to disappoint people who know my online persona once they meet the physical person. Depending on what point of the day you meet me, I could be shy or very outgoing – it all depends on how overwhelmed I am at the moment.

But thankfully, most people attending BlogHer will be feeling the same way. From past experience, I know that once the initial nervous jitters pass, I find it very freeing to let my two halves loose at the same time. BlogHer makes it possible to be yourself – whichever blend of “you” is the one you feel most comfortable with.

Hopefully I’ll be seeing some of you there this week. If we haven’t met yet, I hope we’ll find the chance to say hello at some point.



Social Media Introduces, BlogHer Unites

Disclaimer: if you didn’t attend BlogHer, I apologize in advance for the love fest about to follow. It doesn’t mean that you aren’t special to me, too. You just need to live closer.

I think that not only do I need a disclaimer to my BlogHer recap every year, but I also need my own personal disclaimer when I return from BlogHer. Something like Disclaimer: Expect me to be moody, pouty, low-energy and have at least one explosive crying fit post-BlogHer. Placate with kind words and chocolates for one week until back to normal.

Because honestly? After spending several days with friends – many of whom I only get to see once a year – I’m often hit with a mild depression when it’s over and I have to return to my normal life.

This year, on the last day of BlogHer, I sent out a tweet that simply stated: “I don’t want to go back to my real life tomorrow. I like my virtual life & friends too much. #BlogHer10” 

Soon after, one of my twitter followers responded with, “@mommystory That’s kind of a sad commentary on social media.”

I was puzzled. Clearly he didn’t get it, and it forced me to think about what I had written and why I felt that way.

It wasn’t a sad commentary on social media at all. Instead, it was a sparkly, shining example of the good that can be found in social media, all brought together in one conference.

My “real life” is filled with a lot of ordinary, with a smattering of extraordinary here and there. I do a lot of mundane tasks each day: I go to work, I do chores, I drive my kids to and from activities, I buy groceries, etc. I don’t get the chance to talk to representatives of major corporations or government agencies on a regular basis. When I buy my groceries at Kroger, the cashier doesn’t care what I think of the store’s expansion of their organic section. I doubt my daughter’s school principal will want to make a video of me sharing my views of the district’s special needs program to then present to the superintendant.

But with social media, my little voice is given a megaphone to be heard loud and clear, and no louder than at BlogHer, where companies and bloggers come together. I was interviewed by three huge companies at BlogHer this year (two of the videos are online), and had the chance to speak with several more. My feedback (along with that of other bloggers) a few years ago helped guide a company to create a better product that they presented to us last year at BlogHer. When Aaron was laid off in 2008 and we found ourselves without health insurance, CNN contacted me and our story was one of several that would be an early warning of what was to become the recession.

Our voices do have power, especially when used together. At home I may be a shy nurse, going back and forth to work and quietly raising my daughters in Columbus, Ohio, but with social media I have the opportunity to yell and be heard around the world. I am a smart person with good ideas (not trying to brag, I swear) and my voice shouldn’t be limited to Columbus, Ohio. With social media, it doesn’t have to be.

As for missing my “virtual” friends, I’ll just say that it’s very possible to miss someone you see once a year just as much as someone you see every day. In my “real life” I do have a few best friends and several other good friends that I share many interests with. But the majority of my real life connections are based primarily on geography. The pool of potential friends and acquaintances is limited by distance and location.

I grew up in a small Ohio town and making friends in my early years was terribly hard. I had little in common with my classmates and just didn’t fit in. But what could I do? There weren’t that many other kids my age, leaving me with a couple of friends who had some shared interests and otherwise a class full of people who simply didn’t understand me.

Online, though? My social net is so, so wide. You can bet that I’m going to find other moms who understand what it’s like to have a child on the spectrum and who also have a love of showtunes and Lady Gaga. (And maybe have even dressed up in renaissance clothing, too.) The pool of like-minded (or at least complimentary) individuals is exponentially larger. I can find my tribe beyond the boundaries of city limits and miles.I now have friends in California, Florida, Massachusetts, Minnesota, Canada and everywhere in-between.

When I’m at BlogHer and can’t make it across the lobby of the hotel in under an hour because I keep running into people I love, I’m reminded of how thankful I am to social media for introducing me to these intelligent, interesting and strong women (and a few men). The hugs I gave out were absolutely genuine and from the heart. I treasured each spontaneous conversation I participated in, soaked in my time strolling New York with women I usually only see through a computer screen. When my schedule forced me elsewhere, I felt awful saying goodbye to whoever I was with, worried that we wouldn’t get another chance to chat that weekend.

It didn’t matter that we met online – in person we were like old friends, completely comfortable with each other with no pretense of formality. After all – we’ve already bared our souls on our blogs, right? If anything, this was a chance to deepen friendships, sharing personal stories that are too personal even for our blogs. And once those connections are made – sharing love, heartache, tragedy, hopes, fears – you don’t want to let go.

So yeah, I didn’t want to leave BlogHer. I didn’t want to put down that megaphone. And I didn’t want to leave good friends behind with only the hope that we would see each other again soon – maybe next month if they live in or near Ohio, maybe at another conference, maybe next year or longer.

I only wish I could find a way to merge my virtual life into my real life, but I doubt I can put up a good enough argument for everyone to move to Ohio. These voices, these personalities – who would want to leave them all behind?

So maybe my twitter follower misunderstood me. I do love my friends and family in my “real life” and I’m glad to be back to some of my routine (not the chores, that’s for sure), but four days is not enough time to cram a year’s worth of opportunity and friendship into face-time.

It was an awesome BlogHer. And I can’t wait to see all of you again soon.

Photo credit: Jenna Hatfield

  Photo credit: Michelle Lane

 (and everyone else I didn’t get photos with!)


Blogger Flu

It seems that along with the swine flu, there have been several outbreaks of blogger flu going around the internet. I’ve been feeling particularly out-of-sorts myself, and I’ve read at least 15 posts from other bloggers having similar issues over the last month.

Symptoms of blogger flu include, but aren’t limited to, feeling down or overwhelmed, trouble putting thoughts to the keyboard, difficulty in organizing coherent posts, and a generalized worry that no one would want to read about your boring life at the moment anyway. It’s not quite to pandemic status yet, but I wouldn’t doubt its ability to mutate.

I’ve wanted to write several times in the past week, but when the time became available, I sat down to the computer and my thoughts took on the consistency of pea soup. The harder I tried to craft a post, the more difficult it became. But then when I went back into my blog reader and started to catch up on the thousands hundreds of posts I’m behind on reading, I noticed I wasn’t alone in my writer’s block. It seems a lot of people are struggling with what to write, wondering if they’ve lost their blogging mojo. Some are dealing with a lot of heavy life issues, some are crazy busy, and some are feeling depressed. (And some are dealing with ALL THREE. And while there’s no “I” in “some”, there’s definitely “me”. Ahem.)

So I’m not going to stress out if the words aren’t there. Because I know it’s just a temporary illness and soon I’ll be back. And I’m certain the words will yet again flow freely instead of being dragged from my head by force. I’ll rest, regroup, conserve my strength, and come back better than ever.

Anyone else out there want to admit to a touch of the blogger flu? I promise I won’t make you wear a mask.



What is a Blogger Worth?

When I was at Blissdom 09, one of the hot topics was monetizing your blog. If you were following along on Twitter, you might have seen a flurry of women trying to figure out how much the panelists are making from their blogs. Was there a certain threshold of blog traffic needed to start monetizing? Are ads the only way to make money? How do we deal with PR people wanting to work with us, and do we charge for product reviews?

Yes, it’s been two weeks since Blissdom and I’m just now getting to the topic. I like to take my time thinking these things through. Here are my thoughts:

[Before we go any further, I’ll add that I’m NOT an expert by any definition.]

1. Blog primarily because you love the subject.

Making an income should be your second priority. Write what you know and give something useful to your readers. Care about the community you’re in.

I’m hoping that the majority of these women already had their own blogs, writing about topics they enjoy. Because I think the first lesson of monetizing your blog is to be writing for the love of the subject. If you start a blog with the intention of only making money, you’re likely to get burned out quickly. Have a plan that doesn’t involve money – I write this blog because I love writing about my family, and I have my reviews blog because I love trying out new things and sharing my opinion with others.

2. Use your traffic and your influence to determine your worth when approaching or being approached by advertisers.

Once you do feel you’re ready to add some advertising or reviews to your site, where do you begin? How much do you charge? I remember when I received my first request for a private ad, I had no idea what to charge. Is $5 a month good, or am I selling myself too cheap? If I ask for $25, will I be laughed at?

Thankfully, Dawn from KaiserAlex recently cracked the DaVinci code and revealed a formula you can use to get an idea of what you should be charging. It’s such a simple formula – I wish I had it a year ago! The formula is based on your traffic, and while it’s not perfect, it’s a very good start.

Speaking of traffic: traffic is an issue that many people feel touchy about. Kim Moldofsky recently wrote about being asked for her traffic numbers from a PR company, and how bothered she was that they started this new relationship with a demand for her traffic numbers. It’s OK to protect your traffic stats – you shouldn’t have to give them out to everyone who asks. (Obviously, if you’re joining an ad network or specifically asked to be a part of a PR campaign, you will need to supply your traffic numbers.)

I’m not one to go shouting my traffic stats to everyone, mostly because I feel there’s more to me than the numbers Google Analytics shows me. My reach as a blogger is not completely based on numbers – anyone can have a high traffic month from dumb Google searches for “Paris Hilton naked”. My traffic may be lower than some, but I may have more dedicated readers than someone with lots of traffic.

I also have a decent number of subscribers who read but may not always click through. And beyond my blog, I have other outlets that increase my value: I have a decently large following on Twitter, I use StumbleUpon, I network on Facebook, and I write for other blogs. I also attend blog conferences that give me the chance to network with others and share what I know.

So what am I worth as a blogger? I still don’t know for sure. I’ve figured out an advertising rate I’m comfortable with, and I know how much I’m paid to write at SavvySource. I occasionally am paid for the time I put into product reviews, but that payment is usually an Amazon gift card, and often I’m given nothing more than the product itself. I’m comfortable with the rules I’ve established with PR companies. (Note to self: publish my PR guidelines on my blog soon. Do as I say, everyone…)

3. If you want to make this a full-time living, consider looking for paid blogging positions.

Several people at Blissdom wanted an idea of how much money can be made by blogging. No one was willing to share specific income numbers, and since income is still very much a taboo subject to talk about in our society, I wouldn’t expect them to do that. I actually told everyone on Twitter how much I made in 2008 – not because I wanted to show-off (and it wasn’t an amount high enough to even call showing off), but because this isn’t full-time for me. If I was making my primary living from blogging, I might be a little more cautious about telling the world, too.

I’d also caution readers that I think very few people can make a decent amount of money blogging just through advertising and affiliate programs. I’d bet that many who do make a full-time income writing are making a large share of their money through being paid to write for others. My ad income is enough to pay one utility bill each month – but I make more than double that by writing for others. Mir has pointed out more than once that a lot of her income is from her freelance writing, not directly from her blog.

Problogger has a good listing of paid blogging gigs, but often the ones you’re likely to enjoy the most come from contacts you already have. I found my SavvySource job because I already followed the hiring editor – CityMama – on Twitter. If someone is looking for bloggers in your content area, you’ll find out first from those in your niche.

4. If all you think about is new ways to attract readers for a larger payout, you may have lost your purpose in blogging.

Why did you want to start blogging? What are you giving back to readers? Do you need to step back and reconsider your goals?

You can easily spot a blog that only cares about making a buck – you feel no connection to it, and you are likely to not return. Even some blogs that write about “making money from blogging” are good reads – they offer something valuable to the reader, and care about keeping their reader interested. If I’m not happy with what I’m writing and my heart isn’t in it, I have to wonder what’s wrong. If it’s simply a lost muse, I can wait it out until she finds her way back. But if it’s because my focus has shifted past the writing of my blog, then it might be time to rethink what I’m doing.

So what do you think? Am I way off on this? I’d like to hear your thoughts on the topic.