It's been nearly two
years since I started Haiku
Friday on a whim

I'm feeling run down
thinking I need a break from
writing weekly 'ku's

It doesn't have to
end, though - any volunteers
want to take over?

I have loved doing Haiku Friday from the beginning. It's been a way to flex my creative muscles and try something different. But lately it's become a chore, and the last thing I want is for it to be a chore. It's not fair to those of you who enjoy playing along each week.

So I need a break. Not sure how long, but possibly a long break. (Note: I'm still blogging, just not in haiku form.) I'm happy to pass the duties off to someone else if they really want the responsibility. If you do, let me know - if more than one person wants it, I'll figure out some way to pick a host.

Thank you so much to everyone who has participated in Haiku Friday. You're all brilliant and talented poets and I'm grateful that you took part in my little weekly meme.


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!

So aside from going to BlogHer (which I do plan to get back to talking about soon), life has been more than a little crazy for me.

Right before BlogHer, I was offered the job I was hoping for. I'll be an RN in a labor & delivery unit at a small hospital in the greater Columbus area. I started the job on Tuesday, and while I'll be working night shift eventually, I'm on day shift during my training. The pay isn't as high as it is in the larger hospitals, but the atmosphere of this unit really called to me. OK, and the fact that they were the only ones to offer me a job. That helped, too.

I still have to pass my license exam, too. That's coming up August 17. So forgive me if you ask me a question and I rattle off, "Normal potassium levels are 3.5-5.0" to you. I'm only a little frazzled.

The schedule is an adjustment for me. It's been two years since I held a job I could explain to people in only one sentence. (So yeah, I work as a blogger. It's essentially a freelance writer, and I work from home and set my own hours and yeah, it's a real job. Well, sorta. It sometimes pays, but sometimes it's only from ad revenue. What's ad revenue? Well...) Working for 12 hours straight takes some getting used to, although that single-sentence description is quite nice.

And it's the first time that I'm spending a significant amount of time away from Mira. I quit my part-time job when she was born, not only for nursing school but to be with her, too. We had to put Cordy in full-time daycare at three months old, and I hated myself for those seven long months she was there. I felt like I missed seeing her grow during that time, and I vowed to never do it again. I got to spend all that time with Mira, however. And now she's two, begging to go to her summer camp five days a week. She's ready to venture out into the social world of preschoolers, and she doesn't need me as much. Which means I need to accept that and find a way to not need her as much, either.

That's not all the change that happened this week, though! Nooooo, not for Aaron and I - when it rains it freaking pours and hails and produces hurricane force winds here. For not only was I offered a job, but then a few days later, Aaron was offered a job! Hallelujah and rainbows and smiling babies!

Aaron's job offer was for an office job on the opposite side of Columbus from us. At first we were giddy with excitement - new job! They'd let him dress casual! We'd finally have a stable, steady double income! The pay isn't the best, but money is better than unemployment, right?

But wait - there's more! Then Aaron got an interview with a company to do freelance work! Much higher pay, too! At the interview, they really seemed to like him, and it's very possible he'll be offered a chance to do projects on a semi-regular basis with them.

Months of no job, and now suddenly job prospects everywhere. I've been waiting for change for a long, long time, and as you know this past year was a special kind of hell. Now that we've got our change, though, why do I find myself screaming, "Whoa! Too fast! Slow it down! I CAN'T HANDLE ALL THIS CHANGE!"

So we're now trying to process everything. That first offer for a job for Aaron has some trade-offs we're just now realizing. The hours would require a babysitter, and that sitter would need to work weird, sporadic times and need to transport the girls to their various therapies and activities. The cost for a sitter, along with gas for the 45 min. commute, would eat up much of Aaron's salary. Plus it's a 45 min. commute each way. Suddenly the giddyness is wearing off.

But the other position isn't a sure thing yet. And if it does become a sure thing, it's only freelance work - no amount of hours are guaranteed - making it not really a sure thing. But it would pay more, so we could budget appropriately for the lean times. Assuming he's offered the position, of course. Aaron would also be home with the kids if he took this option, making sure they get to therapies and school and whatever they may need.

If. Assuming. Possibly. The control freak in me is going crazy with the lack of certainty right now.

We have to make a choice now about which road to take. The riskier choice, which still has one parent home at all times, but no guarantees on any money greater than my salary (which is enough to cover bills and necessary items), or the stable choice, which could still result in no more money than my salary, plus needing a sitter, but a stable job with some chance for advancement and more money.

Have I mentioned I'm lousy at making decisions? I can't even pick the fastest checkout lane at the grocery correctly - how can I participate in making a life-altering decision like this?

Someone tap me on the shoulder after all of these changes pass so I can pull my head out of the sand, will ya?

"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.

While at BlogHer, my
husband is staying home with
our kids - what a guy!

Three cheers for Aaron
Without him, I'd never get
to have all this fun!

Everyone give a big thanks to my dear husband, who is spending his weekend alone with the girls wishing he was at Comic-Con while I'm at BlogHer. This weekend, he's truly my sponsor for BlogHer!

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!

Since tomorrow is the big day where I'm getting behind the wheel and making the drive to Chicago, I thought I'd do a small post to let those who I may be meeting in the next 24-48 hours know what to expect when they meet me.

I will stare at your name badge. Even if I've known you for four years. I'm lousy with faces and when people change their hair or gain/lose weight, it's like they're new people to me. So know that I'm just trying to jog my memory and not staring at your bewbs. Unless you want me to.

Want me to love you forever? Yell my name across the lobby (it makes me feel an eensy-weensie bit important), or come up to me and tell me you read my blog. You'll see me blush, and know that you just paid me one of the biggest compliments of my life by admitting you read what I write. (This probably goes for many bloggers.)

I suffer from an as-yet-undiscovered condition called BlogHer ADD. It means that in a large crowd of bloggers I get distracted rather easily, and if the room is extremely loud I'm known to zone out and not notice someone right in front of me. If I'm walking past you and don't notice you if you say hi, grab my arm or something - I'm probably zoned out and need something to focus on.

Speaking of grabbing my arm - I don't mind people touching me. Some like it, some don't, but I'm totally a hugger. If you're not, that's fine, and I won't be offended.

I'm a very casual person, so forgive me for any breaches of etiquette.

The dark circles under my eyes don't necessarily mean I'm tired. I've had them all my life - even pics of me at five years old show a kid who looks like she's been up all night. Pale skin and unfortunate cheekbone structure equals dark circles under the eyes. No amount of concealer can cover it up. However, if you assume I'm tired and offer me a coffee, I'll still take you up on it.

I'm dressing up for the cocktail parties, and feel free to get a good laugh at me in a dress. I dress up roughly twice a year, which makes me look all kinds of awkward in a dress and heels. The truth is, I LIKE dresses, I just think they're horribly impractical for everyday life. BlogHer gives me an excuse to be girly, although my hair and makeup will still be style impaired.

Of course everyone will tell you they're geeky (it is a blogging conference, right?), but I am truly geeky. Ever watched the TV show The Big Bang Theory? I'm Sheldon. OK, maybe I'm not quite Sheldon, but I'm close at times. I'll admit I'm not very funny, and my wit has a five minute delay. (You know - you think of the perfect witty response to something five minutes after it was said.)

I will talk your ears off given the right topic. Just ask Stimey - WhyMommy introduced us last year and I immediately held her hostage at the cocktail party for nearly an hour talking about our kids.

I'm not too proud to admit I LOVE swag. Free stuff is awesome. I love to try out new products, and all of the other little goodies make great gifts for my family.

I've never been in a limo before. It's true. And I just found out I get to ride in one at some point during BlogHer. I'm far too excited than I should probably be about this.

I graduated nursing school in June, and as soon as I take my license exam I'll be a registered nurse. No, I can't diagnose that pain in your side, but if you sprain an ankle in your high heels I can help you elevate it and apply ice.

My astrological sign is Gemini/Cancer - I was born on the cusp, leaning towards the Cancer side. Which means I'm normally a fairly quiet person who likes to stay at home, but deep inside I want to be a party girl. BlogHer is satisfying my Gemini desires.


Those of you who have met me before are free to add anything I've forgotten, or may not even realize about myself. We should be arriving tomorrow in Chicago mid-afternoon, barring any travel issues. Looking forward to meeting many of you!

Yesterday we spent a lovely day in the country. This is an annual barbecue where we get to see friends we never see enough of - some we only see once a year. The homestead of our hosts is like a Midwestern Neverland for kids - an enormous backyard of green grass to run barefoot in, a castle playhouse with slide, toys everywhere, and for the barbecue, an unlimited amount of food.

Proof of a day well spent:

Cordy's first favorite activity: eating

Finding the toys for the big kids

The makings of a perfect evening: a fire, good friends and marshmallows

Mira clapping along to the live music, face covered in dirt

Cordy and Aaron enjoying the fire & music together

All in all? The perfect day. These are the days I hope my girls will remember as they grow older. The days when the TV and computer are gone and we play outdoors with friends all day long until we collapse around the fire in the evening to sing and roast marshmallows with our dirty feet proudly displayed.

Next week, a big change
for Mira regarding her
summer camp schedule

Two days a week was
her old schedule, but she wants
more time at her school

Mira is our Little Miss
Independent, wanting more
time away from home

So next week, she will
attend five days a week, just
like her big sister

Mira is nothing if not independent. While Cordy struggles every day with going to summer camp, Mira dives right in. She's happy to be there, throwing her backpack at me by the time she hits the doorway to her classroom. If I stay and talk to the teachers too long, she will come back to me, look up at me, place her hand on my belly and say "bye bye" as she gently pushes me out the door.

But being there only two days a week is not enough for her. On the days when Cordy goes to camp on her own, Mira often throws a fit because she can't go with her. So after a lot of number crunching and a little help and prodding from family, we extended her summer camp schedule to five days a week for the last three weeks of camp. I think based on her results so far, she'll love it.

This kid will be trying to move out on her own before she's six.


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!

I woke up before dawn yesterday, and Aaron and I quickly ate breakfast before Cordy woke up. Because of her surgery, she couldn't eat or drink anything, so having any food in sight before we left would be a problem.

When it was time to leave, we woke Cordy up, dressed her, and got out the door quickly. She protested the entire time, saying, "I don't want to go to the doctor! I'm too nervous! I'm apprehensive!" (Thank you, Upside-Down Show, for enriching my daughter's vocabulary.) By the time we were in the car, she was crying, begging to go home and verging on a full meltdown. Aaron managed to get her calmed down again by the time we arrived at the hospital, and she walked to the surgery center with only minor protests.

In the waiting room, there were two other children waiting for surgery. The two started playing together, but Cordy was too distressed to join in despite our attempts to encourage her to play. After about 15 minutes, we were called back to the consultation room.

We met with the doctor who would be caring for Cordy's teeth. He was very friendly and way too cheery for 7:30 AM. He explained the entire process while Cordy tried to become one with the wall opposite him. She wanted nothing to do with this doctor, no matter how nice he was.

After we signed the consent forms he left and the anesthesiologist came in. Cordy retreated behind my chair, refusing to come out to meet this woman. We went over Cordy's medical history, and I mentioned her unreliable metabolism of drugs. It was about this time that Cordy poked her head out from behind the chair to tell the room, "I don't like her!" The anesthesiologist didn't seem fazed, but I still added, "Don't take it personally, it's because you're a doctor."

Aaron had to drag Cordy out from behind the chair so the doctor could listen to her heart, although she couldn't see into Cordy's mouth thanks to the unwilling (and strong) Amazon. After explaining the entire process to us, she told us it was time.

Cordy walked down the short hall with us, but as we turned into the surgery room, she saw all of the people waiting for her, and all of the equipment, and tried to pull away to make a break for it. Aaron managed to keep one hand on her, pulling her to the ground, then scooped her up in his arms as she screamed and flailed. It took three or four people (I can't remember) to hold her down on the padded table as the anesthesiologist placed the gas mask over her face. I couldn't hide the tears in my eyes as I saw Cordy wide-eyed in fear, her screaming muffled by the mask.

It took about 20 seconds for her to start getting drowsy, her eyes rolling around and finally closing. Aaron and I each gave her a kiss and were led out to the waiting room so they could put in an IV and breathing tube and get to work.

The entire procedure took a little over a half an hour, but it felt like hours. I had my mini laptop with me, grateful for wifi access so I could distract myself with reading blogs, Twitter, and mindless web surfing. My stomach was in knots. Some of the other parents in the room were making small talk, but I couldn't even muster that when I knew my little girl was breathing with the help of a machine while doctors fixed her tooth. (Yeah, I know - dramatic much? Now you know where Cordy gets her dramatics.)

Eventually, the doctor appeared in the waiting room and told us that everything was done and she did well. The cavity that caused the weakness was on the back of her tooth, meaning it would have been very hard for me to see. (Ha! So much for the guilt trip I got from the other doctor!) X-rays were taken and he told us that Cordy's other teeth looked great and we were doing a good job with them.

The tooth already had an inflammed nerve, but knowing we wanted to keep the tooth at all costs, he did a root canal and capped the tooth. He also cleaned all of her teeth and put a sealant on her other molars to protect them, and he smoothed out the chip she had on one of her front teeth. The doctor then asked if we knew that Cordy had a few wobbly baby teeth already. When we said no, he told us to expect one of her top front teeth to fall out soon! I wasn't ready to start talking about the tooth fairy yet!

We then were taken to the recovery room. Cordy was still asleep, eyes half open and mouth hanging wide open. The nurse immediately said, "This is normal - some parents are upset to find their kids looking like this." Looking at Cordy, I smiled and replied, "Actually, this is often how she sleeps at home. Not that different." The poor kid had been poked four times in attempts to find an IV site. She seems to have inherited my bad veins, too.

We were asked to not touch her or try to wake her. Kids normally wake up in 20-30 minutes, and waking them up too early can make them combative. While we waited, another child was brought into the recovery room and woke up very quickly. We kept waiting while the nurse went over the discharge instructions. After a half-hour, Cordy still showed no signs of waking up, so the nurse gently called to her and moved her a little. Cordy opened her eyes, tried to sit up, then shifted to her side and tried to go back to sleep.

Aaron picked her up and held her until she was a little more alert, and then we were free to take her home. Cordy couldn't walk - couldn't even sit up on her own - so Aaron carried her to the car. By the time we got home, she was talking non-stop, telling us her tooth hurt (NOW her tooth hurts?) and she wanted some juice. She was still too anesthesia-drunk to walk. We put her on the couch and gave her a little juice.

The nurse told us that Cordy would likely be drowsy the entire day due to the medication, and probably wouldn't have much of an appetite. However, about an hour after we got home she wanted to eat everything in sight, and had more than regained her balance, bouncing around the room like Tigger on speed. She was hyperactive the entire afternoon, and ate a total of four meals before bed. Typical.

The final result? Cordy now has healthy teeth, and won't need to see the dentist for another six months. And she's got some bling in her mouth now with a sweet silver crown:

(Ignore the PB&J leftovers around her mouth. She was an eating machine yesterday.)

Thank you for all of the good thoughts yesterday! (And for putting up with my neurotic obsessing over a little tooth.)

It's been such a busy 36 hours here, full of ups and downs and uncertainties. I've barely had time to sit down long enough to process it all.

The good:
Remember that job I applied for in a local small hospital? I got it! I'll be working in the Birth Center as a labor/delivery/postpartum nurse. I'm thrilled to be starting my nursing career in a specialty I'm interested in, and the smaller hospital size may work to my favor.

The bad:
It'll be a long commute - over 45 minutes. And I was a little surprised to realize that the starting pay is equal to what I used to make as a technical writer five years ago. Ah well, it'll be worth it to be working with mamas and babies.

The good:
After Mira's well-child check when she turned two, we were told to schedule an appt. with Children's Hospital for a speech evaluation. Mira had an evaluation with Help Me Grow last fall, but her pediatrician wanted to see a more aggressive therapy schedule. After waiting over a month, we got an appointment and Mira spent the morning with the speech pathologist today. She was amazed that Mira can speak in full 3-4 word sentences. We heard the word "gifted" again.

The bad:
Although she can speak in 3-4 word sentences, good luck trying to figure out what those words are. Mira is a smart little kid, but she was diagnosed with apraxia of speech. It means that somewhere between her brain and the muscles in her mouth, the message is getting garbled, resulting in poor muscle coordination with her mouth.

It's nothing that therapy can't fix, although I'm not looking forward to the fight we'll have trying to convince the World's Most Stubborn Toddler to cooperate in even more speech therapy.

The not-so-good:
Cordy's had a rough week or so. She's been extremely uncooperative, rude and had several outbursts when frustrated. The culmination was at summer camp today, when she freaked out at swimming time, refusing to go into the water, pinching another child, and then when she had a full-out meltdown, she kicked her teacher and then lost control of her bladder, peeing on her teacher. Not her best day.

The uncertain:
Tomorrow Cordy goes in for surgery. It'll be early in the day, and as long as the hospital has wireless I'll probably be tweeting to keep from going insane from worry. I'm sure her tooth has been hurting her - maybe it was the reason she's been acting out so much? - but the thought of my little girl undergoing general anesthesia is hard to bear. Cordy often has strange reactions to medications, and I don't know which way she'll react to what they give her.

I've had nightmares for days about something going wrong, then waking up in a full panic attack, trying to stop the tears. Were this Mira, I would not be as worried. Don't get me wrong - I love Mira just as much, but she's an amazingly tough kid. She's never seemed as medically fragile as Cordy. Ha, I can't believe I just called Cordy fragile. My Amazon warrior princess?

So spare a thought for Cordy in the morning, and hopefully I'll be reporting that her surgery was quick, routine, and we'll be home in time for her to watch Word World.

Note: I wrote this post last year, but didn't see the sense in re-typing all of it again. Enjoy this recycled post with a few edits to make it more relevant to this year.
--------

Can you feel the tension and anxiety building in the blog world? Nearly one thousand (mostly) female bloggers are a week and a half away from traveling to Chicago for BlogHer 09. The posts about what do I wear? and will anyone talk to me? are already in full swing as some newcomers start to panic and wonder if they'll be mocked if they don't have a laptop with them or don't say the right things.

Relax. Seriously...relax.

This will be my fourth(!) year of BlogHer, and thank god I get to escape flying this year and be a part of the GM carpool. (Hate. flying.) I'm ready to see old friends, meet new friends, and party until I drop. However, I was a member of the nervous newbie club once, too, so I know how some of you are feeling. Allow yet one more person to give you a little advice on surviving your first BlogHer:

Hit the parties: There are a lot of parties planned this year. More parties than one person can possibly attend without some kind of time control device, and most are open to anyone attending BlogHer. Go to the parties, especially the Thursday night parties! This is your first chance to mingle and socialize in a low-stress environment. Even if you have a hard time making the first move to introduce yourself to another person, I promise that someone will ask you who you are and will want to get to know you.

Prepare for short attention spans: At the same time, expect most people at these parties to behave as if they have some kind of attention-deficit disorder. It's only natural - for those who have been to BlogHer before, they'll be bumping into lots of people they haven't seen since last year. And others will suddenly turn and see one of their blog friends standing right in front of them for the first time. So don't be surprised if you're talking with a group and someone disappears or squeals and runs away. It's not you - she was probably overcome with happiness to see another friend. It'll happen all night, and as one person disappears, others will appear to join in on the conversation. It may even be you doing the ADD-wander-off.

Expect happy surprises: Don't be surprised if others come running to you, too. At my first BlogHer, I felt so lost when I was checking into the hotel. There were women everywhere - many were clustered in groups, and I was far too shy to approach one of these groups to find out if they were bloggers I knew of. I remember walking past everyone, dragging my suitcase behind me, anxious and feeling like I wanted to hide in my room for the next three days, when I heard, "Is that Christina? Hey, woman!" It was Izzy, and she was the first shout out of many I got that night. I was also invited to dinner with Mayberry Mom that night, too, which further helped to calm my nerves.

Hand out your card: If you don't suffer from debilitating shyness, be sure to introduce yourself to as many people as possible. Have business cards if you can. They don't have to be anything fancy: name, blog name, URL and e-mail address are plenty. You might think you don't matter enough to have a business card, but you're wrong. That card will help people remember you, and will help them find your blog after we all leave Chicago. Without cards, I never would have remembered the blog names of everyone I met at BlogHer, many of whom I now read.

Be unstructured: Once the conference begins, you'll meet even more people at the panels you attend. These panels are wonderful, with lots of information for beginners as well as advanced bloggers. But you may occasionally find you need a break, or find a session that doesn't have any panels you want to attend. That's totally OK. There's no rule that you must attend every session - hanging out in the hallways chatting with others is often just as valuable or more valuable than the sessions themselves.

Expect to be photographed: There are cameras everywhere. You're probably bringing one, too. Remember that everything said or done at BlogHer is on the record, so be prepared to end up on Flickr. This especially goes for those who like to drink, but can't hold their liquor. (However, if you do want drunken antics to show up on the internet, drink away!)

Branch out: You're going to find bloggers in your niche, but you'll also encounter bloggers on nearly any topic. Take some time to get to know women outside of your niche, too. Surely you have interests beyond being a mom, right? Mommy bloggers are lovely, but there are some awesome craft bloggers, too. And pet bloggers. And life bloggers. And food bloggers. And shopping bloggers. If you can't find someone who blogs about one of your secondary interests, maybe you need to start a new blog, eh?

So what I'm trying to say is don't stress out about coming to BlogHer, because you're going to have a good time. It's a crazy, chaotic few days, where you'll meet new friends, rub elbows with blog "stars" and maybe even find out that someone admires you, too.

Dress in a way that makes you feel comfortable, and don't worry so much about your hair and makeup. After all, it can't be as bad as my hair disaster from '06.

And if you need someone to give you that initial boost of confidence and support, come find me. I love meeting new people and I'm always available for a hug. At my first BlogHer several friends held my hand and made me feel comfortable, and I'm happy to return the favor for others.

Now tell me, who will I be seeing this year?

The messages pile
up in my Inbox. Do I
owe you an e-mail?

If so, I'm sorry.
Life gets in the way at the
worst times, doesn't it?

Cordy's tooth, job hunts
and summer chores have taken
over my brain now.

I've stopped starring all of the messages I want to reply to in my Gmail inbox, because it was simply too many. I'm spending the next 24 hours playing catch-up, hoping to make a small dent in the flood of correspondence I need to respond to. And then once I've tackled part of that mess, I can turn my attention back to everything else taking up my time at the moment. Why must the summer months always be the busiest?

But on the bright side, I'm glad it's all e-mail and not paper mail. Just think of what a mess that would be.

(And oh! my lame haiku today! Next week will be better!)


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!

Thanks to the broken tooth, Cordy had to break her string of only visiting the doctor once a year in order to get a pre-surgery physical. I'll admit that I was nervous, expecting a meltdown or at least a lot of non-compliance from my doctor-phobic daughter. She's never liked going to the doctor, and has never let them do a full exam without a lot of screaming and being held down. We still don't know her blood pressure, as a cuff has never made it around her arm yet.

But yesterday was a new milestone. She was mostly agreeable. When the nurse asked her to step on the scale, she did it without argument - a task she refused to do at the hospital over a week ago. I'd like to think that part of it was my different approach this time: instead of asking her to see how big she was (which she always replies "I'm four and a half big!"), I instead told her to step on the scale so we could make number appear. Ah-ha! Appeal to her love of numbers! Why didn't I think of that before?

After the scale was out of the way, and my eyes came back into my head after seeing she weighs 50 lbs. (before you think it, she's not fat. 50 lbs is reasonable for a 4 year old who is getting very close to 4 ft. tall), we then went into an exam room. The nurse wanted to get Cordy's pulse, but Cordy did not like this woman touching her wrist and holding it for a long period of time. We tried asking Cordy to count to 15, count the fish painted on the wall, etc., but we never got past 8 seconds. The nurse gave up at that point.

When Cordy and I were alone in the room, she scanned the room quickly and found a magnetic drawing board. Suddenly she was happy as she drew pictures of grandma, complete with her trademark circled X, H, and an outline of her hand. We didn't wait long before the doctor came in.

This was our first time seeing this doctor, so I didn't know what to expect. But she was soft spoken, young, and seemed to understand Cordy well. She asked me several questions first, not directly confronting Cordy so that Cordy could get used to her in the room. Then she started off with simple questions for Cordy, asking what she was drawing, how old she was, does she have a sister, etc.

When it came time for the exam, I was prepared for the worst. However, Cordy willingly let the doctor put her stethoscope on her chest and back, even taking deep breaths when asked. She opened her mouth and said "Ah" on command, and didn't complain too much when the doctor looked in her ears. She even laid down when asked so the doctor could feel her belly. I sat there the entire time, grinning like a fool in amazement, and at the end told the doctor that this was the first time Cordy has ever let someone examine her willingly. She was pleased to hear that.

The verdict: Cordy is fit for surgery. Other than low muscle tone (which we already knew about, and seems to be common in kids with autism spectrum disorders), Cordy has no medical issues.

I was so thrilled with Cordy's performance, I agreed to get ice cream afterward. The two of us enjoyed our ice cream together, until about half-way through when Cordy bit down into an M&M and got that worried look on her face. "Does your tooth hurt?" I asked her.

"No, it's OK!" she tried to reassure me, but the worried look remained.

"Your tooth hurts, doesn't it? It's OK, you can be honest."

She shook her head yes for a moment, then shook it no. "No, my tooth is OK. It doesn't hurt. But can you pick out the M&Ms from my ice cream, mommy?"

So her tooth still hurts. Next week is her surgery.

At the grocery this evening, I waited in line at the self-checker while three early 20-somethings unloaded their cart. In it were two bottles of vodka, a 6-pack of beer, and some Red Bull. They also asked the cashier to fetch them some cigarettes. He slowly shuffled off to get their cigarettes from the locked case after checking IDs.

I heard the three of them talking to each other in hushed, urgent voices. Finally, one of the two women said to the guy with them, "I said I don't know! I'll ask."

She then turned towards the cashier and loudly asked, "Hey! Can I use my food stamps to buy this?" as she gestured to the Red Bull with one hand and held up her food assistance card in the other.

The cashier looked up with a bored expression, as if he had heard this question several times. "No," he responded.

The three 20-somethings sighed in defeat. "Damn - I told you. Just pay for it already," the other woman said. They paid for their items and soon were out the door.

As I stepped up to the self-checker, my eyes met those of the cashier. "You know," I offered, "They actually can buy Red Bull with food stamps."

"Yeah. I know," he replied with a smile. "But if they don't know that, I feel no need to tell them they can use assistance to buy that junk."

I stifled a giggle. Sure, he was probably wrong to lie to them, but I wasn't going to correct him while they were still there, either.

(FYI - They get a booklet when they get their food card telling them what they can and cannot buy.)

Independence Day
is nearly here - but tonight
the skies light up here

In C-Bus, we have
Red, White & Boom: fireworks
before July 4.

But I avoid the
crushing crowd and watch from my
back bedroom window

For the July 4
fireworks, we need only
shift to the front yard

One advantage to my house is that it's in an ideal location for watching fireworks. We can see the downtown fireworks out of our back bedroom window, although it is a long way away. (And I'd rather do that rather than go downtown early in the morning to stake out a spot and guard that spot all day long.)

For our community fireworks, we need only bring the camp chairs out to the front lawn. They are launched just across the road from our neighborhood, giving us a close-up view without the long traffic snarl afterward.

Have a great holiday weekend, US readers. And non-US readers, umm, I'm sure there are plenty of YouTube videos of fireworks out there if you want to join in the fun.


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!

For my first attempt at a garden, I think it's going pretty well. My mom wouldn't even let me plant-sit for her when I was younger, knowing I'd kill everything on accident on the first day, but now I'm keeping plants alive! And hey, it isn't even quite as hard as keeping children alive!

My garden today: (click any photo to see it larger)

Broccoli

Thankful for the cool weather & rain - finally!

Future cucumbers

A garden friend

Future green peppers

We've already had several harvests of the broccoli, and it's delicious. My lettuce has also been harvested and we have plenty of basil and cilantro to spice the neighborhood. I can't wait until the zucchini, cucumbers and green peppers are ready to eat.

Thus far, I'd have to say that starting my own vegetable garden was a very good idea.