Because it’s my blog and I’ll whine if I want too

I despise Monday. This Monday at least. I’m not really a fan of any Monday’s though.

-This morning, I woke up at 3am with horrible nightmares. The kind that scare me so bad, it then takes me two hours to fall back asleep. Then my son woke me up an hour later.

-I hate that my boss has this one thing that I managed to forget to do, so now I’m on her shit list. It’s not even like it’s a real thing. It doesn’t matter. It has nothing to do with the job. It’s her green M&M. You guys know that story right? The rock star who wrote into their contract that they wanted a bowl of M&M’s with all the green ones removed. It wasn’t like they cared about the green M&M, it was just a way to see how well one read the contract. It’s dumb. I am a great employee. I’m fast and efficient…but I don’t have time for her stupid green M&M.

-I hated leaving my son at daycare this morning. We only had two days together. They’ve been gone for two weeks. He was a clingy mess all weekend. I know he was fine the second I left. I know it because he is him and because I called to make sure. But leaving a screaming toddler is not how I wanted to start my morning.

-I hated leaving my girls at camp this morning. One clingy, the other quietly crying. It broke my dam heart.

-I feel like a moron. I’ve forgotten my allergy meds for two days. I itch so bad, I can barely stand it. My hands are huge and and feet itch. I just want to scratch my dam skin off.

-I read a post this morning. A post that made me realize I was a pain in the ass at BH. I want to email the person and say I’m sorry, I didn’t think about how hard that weekend was for you. But I don’t know if then, I’m just even more annoying than I’m sure I was then.

-I hate that my dam sprinklers are on again. Sixth time in two days. They are set wrong. I don’t know how to set them right. That is obvious. I’ll need to call someone else to do it. Or beg my ex.

Mostly though? I just hate Monday.

Anyone else care to share? Make me feel a bit less alone.

This much I know

A watched cell phone never texts.

Two weeks? One week too long.

Blog Her Blues, still not gone.

Professional worrying skills, keeps me awake.

Twitter and Facebook: follow suggestions suck.

My new iPhone? Named Potter Jackson.

Morgan, Bailey, Harrison: coming home tomorrow.

Liz, Jenna, Lu: Best friends. Love.

Missing my roomies: Kari, Stacey, iNater.

Want to do six word Friday? Here’s the link.

Thank you

I’ve always had trouble taking compliments. I have a theory on why, but let’s just leave it at, when you’ve been abused as a kid, you tend to think you aren’t worth much. Part of it, I think I’ve gotten better at. Some of it may be a life long struggle. I try, I really do, but I tend to think I fail.

When people say something nice to me, I tend to come up with a million reasons in my head, as to why it’s not real. I berate myself. In my head. Sometimes outloud. Although I learned long ago to keep most of that to myself, because people then get a bit yelly. It’s not easy. To take a compliment as just a compliment. To hear the words and believe what people are saying, when you sometimes hate yourself. I know someone will yell at me for that. But a lot of times I do hate myself. I feel that I’m worthless. I know logically why I feel that way at times, yet, I’m not always able to stop it.

This past week has been a challenge for me. To go to a conference and have people want to meet me. Little ole me. Just because. Last year, I was able to tell myself, well I did that keynote, so they know who I am.

Yet there was 2,400 hundred people at the Hilton this past weekend and some people wanted to meet me. For the key reason, that they just wanted to meet me. This year, people said hi to me in elevators. Just because. People hugged me in the hallway. Just because. I didn’t do anything special this year. I was just me.

Do you know how strange that is for me?

I’ve cried about 12 times this past week, reading re-caps. You know why? Because people have said nice things about me. People who didn’t manage to meet me have said, I wish I’d met you. Some people told me, I was a reason they had a great time, I made their experience better. It warms my heart to hear that.

It’s strange for me though. It’s awesome and I love it, but it’s strange. I don’t always find myself worthy of this community. I generally feel like I don’t bring much too it.

What I do know? These past few days, instead of reading nice things about myself through a filter, through my filter, I just read them. I absorbed them. They made me smile, they made me cry. I believed them.

Progress. Small progress. But it’s something.

This year? I see photos of myself and I think, I truly love that photo. I haven’t picked apart how I looked in any of them.

I just love them.

So thank you. You and you and you. All of you. Just….thank you.

Re-entry is just hard

I am sad. I am having trouble with coming home to reality. It makes it worse that my kids are gone until Saturday morning.

I was sad and lonely enough, that I went and picked up the dog. If you know me, you may find that funny, since I am not a huge fan of my dog.

I miss my friends. I miss feeling that supported. Four days just wasn’t kong enough to hold me over. Maybe it was. I don’t know. Maybe I just need a few more days and I will be okay. Maybe I just need my kids. Possibly I need to start planning my next weekend getaway.

The thing is, I met all of my closest friends online, so it’s not as if I’m not good at this way of friendship. Normally it works out okay. Normally I deal with it just fine.

Four days straight of hugs and conversations in person, though,  reminds me what I am missing. When I come home and don’t get invited to see a new baby in the family. Because its not my family anymore. When I go pick up my dog from a friend watching her, and my friend doesn’t even care enough to ask how my trip was. Because I’m not really her friend anymore.

It all reminds me that I have the greatest support system and the greatest friends in the world, they just don’t happen to live anywhere near me.

It’s hard, that’s all. It’s hard to be home. I had a blast, an absolute blast, but tonight?  I’m sad and I miss my friends.

Why you will see me at BlogHer11 in San Diego

First, hi. I’ve missed you all. I’ve missed my little spot over here this past week.

I had the most amazing four days. Truly. I figure, since I’m me…and I’m completely exhausted…I’ll make you all a short list of reasons why I will be at next years conference.

1. I have the greatest friends in the entire world. People like my roomies Kari and Stacey who make me feel like I’ve known them forever. People who I can’t imagine my life without. People who I was so incredibly sad to leave after four days. I am already planning out how to get to San Diego just to spend more time with them. This is why I will be there. To see them. To hug them. To spend days talking to them.

2. I met some of the most amazing people ever. Jill, Jodi, Betsy, Maggie, Kim, Jessi, Kat. I know there are so many people I will be forgetting….please to be forgiving me. But hugging in person, people who you talk to daily? Is just a huge reason I do this every year. People who crack you up. People who make you think. People who make you feel okay about continuing to do this. People who help you remember why you stay in this crazy online world, despite the drama that goes on. Each year the group is a bit different, but it so far has made me realize, it’s just a chance to spend time with new people.

Meeting people who you immediately wonder how you’d never run across them in the community. People like Lisa. Wendi. People who are so nice and funny and genuine and you wonder how in the world you haven’t been following them this whole time.

Finally meeting people who you’ve talked to for years but never gotten to meet before. Liz, Kristen, Carmen.

Meeting all of those people? So worth my trip.

Seeing, hugging, eating with people you already know? It’s why I keep doing this.

3. Meals that somehow just work out. Meals with ten people. Four who you invited, four more who others invited, two who you managed to pick up in the lobby. Meals that were planned by basically inviting people and then inviting more people, until you get the random amazing group who ends up going. Because we all know, people are busy. People are trying to fit everything in. Meals, where it’s great whoever shows up. Meals, that you aren’t wanting to end. Because the conversations are so stimulating. So fun. So entertaining. It makes it worthwhile. It makes you trip. Inpromtu brunches and lunches and dinners at new restaurants? Are why I do this.

By the way? Serendipity? A life goal I have now accomplished. Frozen hot chocolate? Worth the airfare to NYC alone.

4. Watching your friend give a phenomenal keynote and watching all the other amazing people up there share their words, their stories.

5. Late night conversations in bed the last night. Sharing secrets, sharing stories, catching up with your friends after the lights are off. When after 2am, someone finally says, no matter how late we stay up, we still have to leave tomorrow, so maybe we should get a bit of sleep.

6. Sparklecorn. MamaPop managed to out-do themselves this year. I love that party. In fact? It was the only one I actually managed to attend. I would like to RSVP for next year. Like now. Can I do that please? Tracey? Amy? What do you say? Ha. You all did an amazing job with that party. I can’t even imagine how much work went into it. DUDE!!!! That cake. So good.

I tried to get to other parties. Something about BlogHer though? You just have to go with the flow. The flow for me this year? Was just have fun. Not feel stressed. There’s just no way to do it all.

7. Conversations about you. Yes you. You too. Oh and you, hidden in the back. We talk about you. In good ways. We talk about friends we wish were there. Best friends who weren’t able to make it. People we met last year. People we love. Blogs we adore. Blogs we read every day. We talk about how we wish you could all make it next year. How we sometimes want to hug every person who is lovely in our comments, especially on hard posts. We talk about you. We remember you. We miss you.

8. Hearing a friend, someone who you adore say: I was ready to be done. But this has helped me see, I’m not done. That makes it all worth it.

9. A day spent wandering New York with one of your best friends.

10. Seeing a new city. It really is a fun thing to explore a city you’ve never been too. I’d never seen NYC. I have been to San Diego many, many times. But exploring it with my friends next year? Will be awesome.

BlogHer 10 was amazing. I loved it. I did what I wanted. Enjoyed my friends. Saw a new city. Had an absolute blast. I am sure there was drama, but I wasn’t involved in any of it and I’m not willing to give it the time of day. BlogHer is what you make of it. I made my BlogHer experience a great one. The staff of BlogHer did a fabulous job and I want to thank them.

So, yes…I will be at BlogHer11 in San Diego.

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What I’m not doing

I should be packing. I should be working. I should be doing a lot of things that I’m not doing. Maybe printing out all of the things I need out of my email. Folding laundry. Cleaning my kitchen. Taking out my trash. Locating my ear bud things for my iPod. Trying to figure out why I can never find those dang things, seeing how I know we must have twelve pairs in this house. Getting ready for BlogHer. Oh maybe even looking at the conference packet and deciding what sessions I may be interested in.

What am I doing instead?

Posting non-sense.

Reading blogs. Because I want my reader to be on zero when I leave. Makes complete sense, yes?

Editing photos in iPhoto. Just because I’ve been meaning to do that for a year at least.

Paying attention to Twitter. Because well, it’s more fun than working.

Checking FedEx every ten minutes. Just waiting for the, your new IPHONE HAS BEEN DELIVERED status. Yeah, so far no go. But it’s on the truck.

Sitting here, willing my suitcase to figure out what I want to pack and do it all for me.

Playing Bejeweled.

I *may* be a complete procrastinator. I work best under pressure. Something like that.

Getting to know you

Last week, I wrote about post about me. I thought this week, I’d do something a bit different. A get to know my readers post. This is really going to be a long week for me (two jobs, packing, BlogHer) and posting may be light. (It could also be normal, because I’m a big giant spaz, but who knows.)

Truly though, I thought it might be cool to get to know all of you. A lot of you have blogs that I read. You know, when I get around to reading blogs, which is rare these days. Some of you don’t.

If you think I’m being strange asking these questions, you should see the things I make my best friends do, when I’m having a bad day. I tend to call it, humoring Issa. See, aren’t you glad I don’t do this to you often? No need to answer that one.

Moving on:

1. Married? Kids? Names and ages? Animals? I mean if you are willing to tell me. I adore names.

2. If you could have any super power, what would it be?

3. You’re given 1 million dollars, what do you spend it on?

4. You are having twins. Congrats. What would you name them?

5. What’s one thing you miss about being a kid?

6. Where would you like to retire too, if money were no option?

7. Favorite cereal?

8. Autobots or Deciptcons?

9. Who was your first celebrity crush? Who is it now?

10. Do you have a best friend? More than one? What’s your favorite quality in each of them?

11. What is one thing you adore about each of your kids? (or spouse. or pet.)

12. What is your most listened too song on iTunes?

13. What’s a new blog that you love?

14. Ever been to NYC? What’s one thing I should see/place I should eat?

15. Are you going to BlogHer? Would you like to meet me?

Too quiet

So many days I crave quiet. My children are not quiet. Never. They even talk in their sleep. The dog? Soooo not quiet. She barks so much, that her nickname is barks-a-lot. I crave it. Quiet.  I wish for days of quiet in a row. I wish for days where I don’t have to pick up toys, clothes, yell at kids for leaving skates and cars and balls on the stairs. I sometimes wish for days where I don’t have to argue with kids to brush their teeth, beg them to eat just one more dang bite, explain why one must sleep at night. Yet here I sit, on my third day of fifteen with no kids and I’m wanting noise. Even the dog is gone, on a two week trial period at my ex’s house.

I haven’t tripped over a toy car in days. I haven’t stepped on a Littlest Pet Shop Death Trap in days. My wii remotes are next to the wii, my tv remotes on my coffee table. My couch pillows are all on my couch. There isn’t a single sippy cup on my bedside table. I Haven’t broken up a fight in days. There are no shoes to locate. No tiny underwears in the floor of the kitchen. I haven’t walked into the bathroom to see a single unflushed toilet in days. Haven’t heard my son scream, mine do it!!!!!

It’s too quiet though. Strange the things you miss.

They are having a blast. Almost too much fun to really want to talk to me. The phone goes from kid to kid in minutes flat, so they can get back to whatever they doing. Two weeks of being spoiled by grandparents. Two weeks of non-stop pool time. Of amusement parks and treats and the entire content of Target purchased for their benefit.

I remember weeks spent with my grandparents when I was a kid. Every summer, we’d go for three weeks. Grandparent time. I loved it. I always had a blast. I doubt I wanted to spend much time on the phone with my mother either. I wanted this for my kids. I know I’m blessed to have it. I know my kids are blessed to have two sets of grandparents who want as much time with them as humanly possible.

I will go see a movie today. I may read an actual book, that doesn’t involve Harry Potter or Percy Jackson. I will work. I will sleep in. Next week I will go to BlogHer and then the following Saturday, they will be home. It really is okay.

It’s awfully quiet though.

My pre-BlogHer, see how strange I am, post

I didn’t think I was going to be able to go to BlogHer this year. If memory serves me, I even posted in February saying, hey, just as an FYI, I’m not going. I did it to save myself the heartache of trying to go and not being able to come up with the money later on. I’m good at that. Setting myself up for failure. So, I thought I’d just say no and be done with it.

That very day, I received oh say, 12 DM’s from a very dear friend, Megan (Undomestic Diva) basically telling me that in no way was she accepting my no as an answer and it was obvious to her that I wanted to go, so I just was going to make it happen. The end. She’s demanding, that girl. But I love that about her. She was also very right.

The next day I was given an extraordinary gift, by one of my best friends, Jenna. She’d bought a BlogHer ticket and wasn’t going to be able to go and had tried unsuccessfully to sell it to someone. She gifted it to me. I tried to argue, to say I’d pay her over time. Have you ever tried to argue with a stubborn best friend? I don’t recommend it. She won, I gave up. I have thanked her so many times, I’m afraid this time, she may really throw a shoe at me, all the way from Oregon. However….thank you friend. You are the reason I am going. Without you, I wouldn’t have made the rest of it happen. Love you.

When my mom asked me what I wanted for my 30th birthday in April, I said, um…how about a plane ticket to NYC in August. She said, okay, I can do that on one condition. Her condition was getting to keep my kids for two weeks. Ha. A DOUBLE birthday present. I love my mommy. She is showing up today, to take them to the land of, Grandma is cooler than your mommy. It’s a very important and amazing place.

I found some amazing roommates. Stacey and Kari are two of my very favorite people in the world. The rest is kind of history. I’m going. I’ll be there. Megan was right, I wanted to go. I’m so thrilled that it all worked out. I can’t even tell you all how much of a break from my life I need right now.

So now, some weird things to know about me before hand:

-First of all, hi, I’m Issa. *waves* I know you all know that, but what people always ask is, how do I pronounce Issa? Well see my name is actually Melissa. Which I will totally answer too. Issa is a nick name for Melissa. The best way I can explain it, is this: Issa is Melissa without the Mel or Lissa without the L. (Try and call me Mel and you die. Am not kidding. I don’t find it funny and I DESPISE it. Try it more than once and I will most likely not speak to you any more.) There is no E sound in Issa. Got it? Please, don’t worry about screwing it up. Because honestly, I am probably going to look at you and go, and your Twitter/Blog Name is what again? Just ask, I promise I don’t bite and I’ll say Issa for you.

-I won’t be wearing much black, so I’ll be easy to spot in a crowd, in my colorful ass shirts. It’s not that I don’t like black, it’s that it makes me look too washed out. I am Polish Pasty. It’s a genetic condition.

-I don’t drink. Or if for some reason I do, it’s one drink. That is all. I don’t mind being around drunkards. It’s just not my thing.

-I once accidentally drank a wine cooler. I was ten years old. I had no concept of what it was, nor that it wasn’t just a kids drink, because it sure as hell tasted like one. It made me super sick. I can’t really drink sweet fruity drinks because of it.

-I will be the one wearing flip-flops the entire time. I did buy one new pair though. I luff them.

-I am a neurotic gum chewer. I have shitty teeth and I’m not really  supposed to chew it, so I chew a piece, spit it out after five minute and then get a new piece another 30 minutes later.

-I will confuse you by using my kids real names. Because in person there is no way I will say their fake names. I can type it without thinking, but I just can’t keep it up in conversation.

-I will try really hard to be outgoing. Please to be knowing, it’s not the way I am naturally….so it may seem forced at times.

-I am not now, nor have I ever been cool. I have one new shirt. Because that is all I can afford to purchase at this time. I am likely to wear the same clothes as last year. Same flip-flops too. I have an anxiety disorder. I’ve been through a lot this year and I’m prone to crying. Shrug.

-Unless your Twitter avatar is posted on your forehead, I may not remember your name. Even if we met last year. Please remind me your name. I do want to meet you. I’m just bad with names.

-Last year there were people I wanted to meet and didn’t. A few I never saw (Maggie Dammit) a few I did and chickened the fuck out (Mom 101 & Motherhood Uncensored). I regretted that. The seeing and chickening out. I mean what if that had been my only chance ever? It isn’t, it won’t be, I’ve promised both Liz and Kristen that I WILL MEET THEM THIS YEAR. But still. It could have been, you know? If you want to meet me and you see me, please come say hi. I don’t bite. Promise. No matter how I appear, I am just as socially awkward as the next person.

-I am a self proclaimed baby whisperer. If you’d like to test that theory out, I’d love it. I have serious baby wants in this moment.

-I am blind as a bat. I will run into walls; trip over absolutely nothing and look at my nose when I get too tired.

-I am addicted to Starbucks. I will likely be easy to find each morning, as there is a SB in our hotel lobby.

-I am really going to NYC to eat. Seriously. My list of things to eat is getting out of hand.

-My three best friends are not going to be there. Please ignore me being permanently attached to my cell phone. I text and email them often. I am a multi-tasker. I will try to keep it to a minimum. However, they are my life line. I make no promises.

-I am going to be helping out in the Serenity Suite a few times.  I will post when, next week, so if you’d like to come visit me then you can.

That’s all I know.

I told myself I wouldn’t do this

I told myself three years is too long to still remember. I told myself I wouldn’t say anything this year. I’d just ignore it. I’d stop thinking about it. I’ve put out too many depressing posts this year. There doesn’t need to be any more. For that, I apologize. I can’t seem to stop myself today.

Last year I tried to ignore it. I fretted before hand that I’d fall apart, like the years prior. I didn’t though. I didn’t fall apart. I also didn’t not remember. A lot of you saw me on this day last year. Twenty or so of us even had dinner on this date last year. See, last year I was at BlogHer, so it was easy to shove it to the back of my head. I cried a bit in a bathroom, but I didn’t say anything. Save for the four amazing people at my table that night who let me cry in public for a minute, and the one person who already knew, who squeezed my hand each time she saw me, I kept it quiet.

It made it easy to not think about the What-If’s all day.

It feels wrong though to not say something. To not remember. She was my baby after all. For 14 weeks, three years ago she was my baby. Until she wasn’t.

I have spent all day wondering. Wondering what she’d look like. What she’d be like. If she’d be girly, or more tom boy-ish. If she’d be a mama’s girl, or a daddy’s girl. Wondering if we still would have had Harrison. Wondering if we’d still be together if I hadn’t lost my shit. None of that is her fault, it just is.

They don’t prepare you for that, you know? Loss. Heartache. There is no rule book. No, how to, for dummies.

I have to remember. Till the day I die, I will always remember her, even when I one day, learn to stop mentioning it out loud. Because even though, she was never more than a few little plastic sticks with two lines and one ultrasound picture, she was still my daughter. My Piper.