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!)


Blissdom Musings

So last week was filled with a road-trip to Nashville for the Blissdom conference at the Gaylord Opryland Hotel. Not only did this mean getting to catch up with so many bloggers I know and love, many of whom I consider friends, but it also meant several days away from work, bills, and the crippling stress I’ve been feeling lately. In other words: I desperately needed this trip.

First: the location was beautiful. The Opryland Hotel is too amazing to be believed. There is an indoor river, people. AN INDOOR RIVER. It’s like Las Vegas in Tennessee. And the conference had a lot of great perks, including a private concert by Harry Connick Jr. on Friday night.

There was also the unexpected perk(?) of the National Tea Party Conference also being held at the hotel that weekend, including a guest appearance by Sarah Palin. Despite my having vastly different political views from the tea party attendees, watching Catherine (Her Bad Mother) discuss political science with men dressed as George Washington and Paul Revere was worth the entire trip. (Drunk on glory, Catherine!)

I didn’t approach Blissdom this year like I’ve approached past blogging conferences. While I still cared about what I wore, I wasn’t frantically rush-ordering new business cards or thinking about what kind of swag I could give out to be noticed. My game plan for Blissdom was simple: have fun with friends, maybe meet some new friends, and learn more about blogging and/or myself.

I succeeded in my plan.

I laughed more in that half-week than I have in probably a month or more. I filled my days with friends and fun. After four years of knowing her online-only, I finally had the chance to hug Amy, aka Mrs. Chicken, in person. And in meeting her, I was relieved that she was everything and more that I expected her to be. Spending time with her was like visiting with an old friend, because at this point she is an old friend.

At past conferences, I was often more aggressive at seeking out new people and “networking” to build my blog presence. However, I’m burned out on networking for the goal of building a brand or blog audience or popularity or whatever is the current buzz word of the moment.

So I took a more laid back approach. I was happy to fall into conversations when it was natural. I loved being introduced to women that my friends already knew – in every case, I saw why my friends liked them and found myself liking these women in return. But I felt no need to force myself into a conversation, and most of the time I forgot to even give anyone my card unless they gave me theirs first.

(Also? I used up the few leftover business cards I brought with me. I will have to get more for the next conference.)

As for learning more about blogging? I did a little of that, too. While I was tempted to go to sessions on monetizing your blog and growing your readership, I instead decided to stick with the basics of how to write a good story and how to let my voice come through my writing. I think I’ve been fairly good at those in the past, but of late my story has been getting lost. I want to find that story again, somewhere in the fog of working night shifts and sleepless days. My own days aren’t coherent, and as a result my story is disjointed and fractured as well. I think finding my story again will go a long way towards my 2010 resolution/goal/whatever of finding happiness again.

Oh, and I also learned that I can get up the nerve to sing karaoke without a single drop of alcohol in me in front of a room full of women I adore and admire. That took a whole new level of bravery, but I’ll say I had a lot of fun and will likely do it again. (Thanks, Casey, for helping me get up the nerve to do it, and Mishi and Heather for joining me on stage!)

After the disillusionment I felt after BlogHer last year, I’m now looking forward to BlogHer 10. Blissdom, this smaller conference that reminded me a lot of BlogHer 06, helped me throw away all of the stress of jockeying for position with my blog and simply enjoy the community and friendships I’ve made along the journey thus far.

Blissdom was truly bliss.

Photo by Heather, Domestic Extraordinaire



Moments in Time: BlogHer 09

“So is it really true about the screaming and hugging in the lobby on the first day of BlogHer?” Vanessa asked as we drove into Chicago.

“Oh yes,” I replied. “You’ll definitely see it.”

Not even five seconds after putting the car into park for the valet and opening our car doors, a screech echoed in the covered driveway as two women near the revolving door recognized each other, quickly embracing and speaking in high pitched tones about how thrilled they were to see each other.

“Wow, that was fast!” remarked Vanessa.

I walk out of the elevator into the hotel lobby, and am passed by several women, all carrying small brown bags – some with two bags – as they make a quick escape into the elevator. As I get closer to the Room 704 party, I see crowd swarming two small brown tables against the escalator. I stand near the back of the crowd, slowly being pushed upstream until I arrive at the front.

“I’m really sorry, but we’re out of swag bags,” Dawn tells me.

It’s 10:25pm. The party was scheduled to start at 10:30pm.

I look across the horizon of the crowd, and see more women leaving the party before it has even started, carrying their prized bags with them to their rooms. I see very few of those faces the remainder of the night. I grumble to Sleepy New Mommy and Karianna about how rude it is to grab free stuff from a party and then leave the party right away. Isn’t the point of this to talk to each other?

Pulling out my phone, I tweet: “I could make a joke about people who grab swag vibrators & run to their rooms, but it speaks for itself. #blogher09”

In the Expo hall, I see Heather. I try to tell her a story about how a post of hers has been saved in my feed reader, a post discussing what went wrong, and how I revisit that post often. As a new nurse, I read that list of contributing factors, and I ask myself, if I were in that situation, what could I do differently to make sure this never happens to a child on my watch? I’ve used her post to play through different code blue scenarios in my head, trying to keep myself mentally prepared for it.

Unfortunately, I am overcome with emotion as I attempt to tell her all of this, and it comes out in heaving sobs. Damn emotions. As I cry and hug her, her posse circles in closer, wondering if they need to protect Heather by dragging this psycho stalker away from her. She waves her hand and tells them, “It’s OK, I know Christina.” I pull myself together and let her get back to enjoying the Expo hall. I feel like a complete emotional freak.

At lunch on Friday, I offer to hold Ezra for Amy so she can have a few moments to eat. While he sits on my lap and gnaws on bread and chicken chunks, I perform the long-distance food spearing maneuver to get my food from my outside-of-Ezra-reach plate to my mouth. I’m well-skilled at this maneuver.

Yet somehow Ezra uses his Plastic Man reach to snag one of the croutons from my plate, and I laugh. He looks up at me with a goofy grin of accomplishment; suddenly I miss Mira.

I attend a swag suite and am overwhelmed at the crowd. I somehow make my way into the back of the room. At the same time, new swag arrives in boxes that are passed through the crowd. As soon as a box is opened, outstretched hands take everything before it can warm the table. I am handed a backpack, and before the next box is brought in, I start to feel claustrophobic.

“I need out of here. Right now. I feel trapped.” I tell Amelia in short, panicky breaths.

I try to look for an opening, but there are none. The room is packed with women shoulder to shoulder. I brought this on myself, I think. Greedy swag whore.

“Please excuse me. I just want to get out.” I repeat over and over as I squeeze and force my way past each person. I consider offering my backpack to anyone who will simply make a path for me to get out. When I reach the hall, I take a deep breath, and my heart starts to beat a little slower.

I later attend another swag suite, where I’m scheduled to have a meeting with one of the PR reps. After the first experience, I’m frightened to go in, but quickly find it to be a relaxing atmosphere, free of crowds and offering plenty of space to sit, chat and have a snack.

After my meeting, I sit and have a lovely conversation with Kristen, The New Girl, Liz and Susan. Margo provides the entertainment as we keep her from eating the plastic plant on the coffee table. This feels more like past BlogHer events; the time passes without notice as we enjoy the company and the conversation.

My roommate Amelia and I were decompressing after a long day on Friday.

“What’s been your best moment so far?” she asked.

“Meeting Mrs. Potato Head.”

I’m such a mom.

As I leave the Birds of a Feather lunch for parents of special needs children on Saturday, I find myself chatting with a woman in the Expo hall. I mention that I’m feeling a little under the weather after the Nikon party the night before.

“Oooh, you went to the Nikon party?” she asked. “I’m SO jealous! I wish I would have been invited! So, tell me: did they give you a camera?”

“Uhm, no, they didn’t.”

“No? You mean they were all exclusive and had all the security and you didn’t even get a camera from it?”

“Nope. It was just a party.” She was taking this revelation harder than me, clearly.

“Oh well, I’m glad I didn’t get an invite to it then.” And with that she was distracted and turned away to say hello to a friend walking past.

“I’m glad you didn’t, too,” I say quietly to myself.

As I wander the Expo hall, looking a little lost, I spot Janet and wave hi to her, thinking she’s too busy to chat with me. Instead she calls me over, “Hey, will you wait for me while I finish this?” We walk the Expo floor together, both feeling a little hungover and wanting someone to quietly talk with.

We’re approached by one of the sponsors, who asks to interview us for a video being made for their corporate executives. We agree, and do our best to give them our full opinion of their products, both good and bad. Actually, we’re both pretty harsh on them.

Just as I’m feeling like maybe I was being too Complainy McBitchy, Jaelithe appears to share some exciting news with us. Another company in the Expo hall – a company that listened to several moms a year and a half ago – presented her with their newest product: a product that was developed based on the feedback they received from the mom bloggers they talked to. I’m ecstatic and rush back to ask for my own sample of the product. I’m feeling proud of our accomplishments. (More on that product later, I promise.)

It’s Saturday night, and I’m hungry. I have yet to eat a full meal since Wednesday, and I’m really craving a large meal. I invite myself along with Stimey and her group of friends for dinner. We try for Gino’s pizza, but when the line is out the door and around the block, we settle instead for an English pub nearby. I devour my fish and chips, thankful for a quiet moment to talk with old friends and new friends.

It’s 9pm, and I’m perched on the edge of my hotel bed, a bed that is completely covered in swag. I sift through it, deciding what I want to keep, what I want to take home as gifts, and what I want to offer up to my roommates or throw away. The latter category gets a lot of entries.

I am reminded of an earlier conversation that day, when I said that the closing keynote subject was “Where are we headed?” and Stimey’s response was, “Where are we headed? To hell in a swag bag.”

I’m sitting in an oval soaking tub with Devra in the Presidential Suite of the Sheraton at the Cheeseburgher party. Someone comments on the acoustics in the bathroom, and one woman sings a line from I Will Survive. Suddenly the tune is picked up by Georgia and the other women in the bathroom as a spontaneous sing-a-long drowns out the chatter from the other rooms of the party. We erupt into laughter at the end of the chorus.

“THIS is what BlogHer is all about,” I declare to the room.

And it is.



Haiku Friday: Traveling Edition

Haiku Friday
On the road again
Tonight in Cincinnati
Tomorrow: Blissdom!

Two days of blog fun
in Nashville, then breakfast at
The Pancake Pantry

I’m really excited to be heading to a blog conference this weekend. Heather picked me up as she drove down from Cleveland, and tonight we’re staying with Shannan before grabbing Amy and continuing the roadtrip tomorrow. BlogHer rocks, but only once a year is not often enough. Blissdom will give me the chance to reconnect with old friends, see others I’ve never met in person yet, and meet new PR folks to work with. It’s technically work, but feels more like a vacation.

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!



Come Out, Come Out, Whoever You Are

Apparently today is Delurking Day, according to Rude Cactus and several others I’ve come across while doing my daily browse of blogs. This thing always sneaks up on me, kinda like the guy in the graphic.


So, um, if you read this, leave me a comment and let me know you’re here, OK? Especially if you don’t comment regularly – or at all. You can stay anonymous if you’d like.

Consider this the annual census of my blog. Only I don’t come knocking on your door at dinnertime to ask you how much you make annually and how many children you have. And feel free to drop any suggestions or praise you might like to share.

(As always, any complaints written in the message body of a $20 Amazon gift certificate e-mail will be read. All others will be ignored.)