Just Like The Number

Coming Alive at Blissdom 2010

Just a few short days ago I was surrounded by nearly 500 women who get me.  Women who know what social media is and aren't afraid to use it.  Women who blog, and who see their blog as their baby.  

I was at Blissdom, a blogging conference for women, and I was at home.  

It was my second time at Blissdom, and my third blog conference in all.  Now that I have a few of these things under my belt, I'm noticing a consistent progression of feelings that come along with subjecting oneself to a blog conference.

The first feeling is panic.  It didn't matter that this was my third time around, or that I'd been looking forward to this since the last Blissdom was over.  Once I walked in the doors of Opryland, the panic set in.  It's equal parts "I so don't belong here" and "Everyone will finally discover me for the true social reject that I am."  I fight every urge to run into my hotel room and spend the rest of the conference there in my pj's, raiding the mini-bar.

The second feeling is relief.  I always manage to stumble upon that one person in the room who seems as lost as me.  Then they turn out to be wonderful and charming and beyond kind and I wonder where they've been all my life.  Last year it was Amy from Outdoor Dogs.  This year it was Rebecca from Country Fried Mama.  Suddenly I can relax and soak up everything the conference has to offer.

The third feeling is euphoria.  Before I know it, I'm immersed in workshops and panels with people who know things and are willing to share.  I don't have to google them, or look for a Missing Manual, or wonder aloud to myself.  These people are here in real life and speaking a language I understand.  And it feels good.

The fourth feeling is overwhelmed.  The knowledge pours over me and the next thing I know I'm drowning.  I'm drowning in confusion and self-doubt.  Everyone seems so assured of themselves and their blog.  They know their passions and purpose, and oh God I hate the word so much, but they know their niche.  I'm floundering, not knowing which direction to go, what the purpose of my blog is, and why on earth anyone would ever want to read it.

It takes a few days for the last feeling to dissipate, but it always does.  I come home and I take a break from blogs, and blogging, and slowly it comes back.  My passion for this blog, for my words, for my pictures, for my readers.  My purpose slowly  becomes clear again and I formulate ways to make this space better - more me, which hopefully translates into a more authentic experience for you.

As I was sitting in one of the panels, this quote from Howard Thurman was shared:

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it.  Because what the world needs is people who have come alive. ”

That's the final feeling: alive.  New friendships, new ideas, new sights for my lens to find, new words for my fingers to convey: all ready to come alive.  To all my Blissdom friends, and to all my readers, thank you for giving me the space to come alive.  I hope a little bit of what you get here makes you come alive too.

That's Settled: I'm Over It!

So here we are, AFC Champions once again.  The last time this happened, Mike and I were there.  It was the most amazing sporting experience of my life.  That probably doesn't seem like a grand statement, but considering I've seen Mark McGuire in his record-setting season, an Olympic gold-medal soccer match, and been on the court for a Sampras-Becker tennis match?  Let's just say I've had some choices.  

I just don't think anything compares to seeing your team, the one you've followed in good times and in excruciatingly humiliating times, pull off a great win.

This year we weren't able to be there in person, but we did manage to get together with the same group we watched the last AFC Championship game with.  Not that we're a superstitious lot or anything, but who wants to live with themselves for an entire football season with the thought that you might have played some role in your team's defeat? Not I, said the Colts fan.

We did our part, Peyton and Co. did theirs and here we are, Super Bowl-bound again.

I'm going to enjoy each and every minute of these next two weeks.  If it's anything like last time, this city buzzes with pride and anticipation.  If something stays still long enough, it'll get plastered with a horseshoe.  It's been an amazing season, even with my disappointment in the end.  Who knows how many great seasons we have left?  If you're not the fanatic that I am, bear with me just a little while longer.  It's not time to retire my #18 jersey quite yet.  Hopefully, when it's all said and done, I can add a 2009 Super Bowl t-shirt to my collection.  And then I promise I'll talk about something else for a change, like what I ate for dinner, or my underwear.  

Until then: Go Colts!  Believe in Blue!

Getting Over It, One Game At A Time

I haven't really talked about my beloved Colts as much this year on the blog as I have in years past.  There was training camp, the pre-season game, and my personal favorite: Tom Brady-In-A-Casket.  But other than that I've been pretty quiet.  I realize that not all of my readers are quite as enamored with the Colts as I am, so I've tried my best not to overwhelm you with my obsession.

Up until December 27th, this had been the most magical season for me yet.  As my boys in blue marched through the regular season racking up wins, each game brought with it more excitement, screaming, and nail-biting on my part.  I think I may have worn a new traffic pattern in our family room rug from my incessant pacing in many a fourth quarter. 

The rumors swirled around Indy that the Colts would do nothing differently on the December 27th game versus the Jets than they did any other season when the playoff spot and home field advantage had been secured.  They would rest their starters.  Still, the city was buzzing that they would continue on - for the franchise, for the players, for the fans and the city that love their Colts.  Two more games, potentially easy wins, and we'd seal our place in history with the Dolphins and Patriots as the only teams to go undefeated in the regular season.

Even if you didn't see the game, you know what happened.  The starters were benched, and the Jets left with a win.  I've felt a lot of things when it comes to my Colts.  I've been a fan long enough to have suffered some pretty humiliating losses, to have been disappointed, frustrated, and sad.  That game, and the one against Buffalo that followed, left me with an unfamiliar feeling: anger.  Let me clarify: I wasn't angry with the players.  They did what they were told to do, and they did it (thankfully without any Brett Favre-like drama).  No, I was angry at the ownership and management, for not giving a flip about anything but their asses.  For calling an undefeated season "inconsequential."

We had the chance to do something unforgettable, something that would place us in a whole new category.  Was it risky? Absolutely.  Could we have ruined a chance at another Super Bowl with a season-ending injury to an essential player?  Of course.  But teams with balls go for it.  We just came across looking like the wusses that rest of the country believes us to be.  I'm sick and tired of being a "finesse" team.  I want to be the team that everyone is scared of, the team that will do anything to win.  Had we attained the perfect season and not made it to Super Bowl, I'm certain this city and its fans would have been proud of our Colts.  Disappointed, for sure, but the pride would have been a salve for that wound.  I can't say the same if we don't bring home the trophy now.  It's gonna get ugly.

So in the last two weeks, when I've normally been basking in the glow of a glorious season, talking smack right and left, I've been quiet. Stewing, if you will.  Not once have I worn my new horseshoe bling, my Peyton Manning earrings, or my jersey.  Like a jilted lover, I've been pouting, waiting for my beloved team to take me back, to offer a heartfelt apology.

Needless to say, neither Coach Caldwell nor Mr. Polian have me on speed dial.  Lord knows I wish Peyton did.  I took to heart his words in a recent press conference, though, pleading with the fans to put this all past us, to focus on the playoffs and to support the team.  

It starts all over this Saturday.  I'm putting the anger and the bitterness away, and hoping for the  sweet taste of victory instead.  One game at a time, boys.  Make us proud again.

Surprised

This is what 35 looks like.

Surprised.

Surprised that your husband would dare take a picture of you eating cake.  Even more surprised that you kind of like the way the picture turned out.

Surprised that the sleeping in on a frigid morning while your husband takes the kids to school might possibly be the best gift ever.

Surprised that your husband got you the Canon 50mm f/1.8 lens you've been ogling for the last 6 months.  Well, maybe not really surprised, but certainly touched and very happy about it.

Surprised that you are actually 35.  You swear it was just yesterday that you were 17 and the biggest concern you had was whether or not Brenda and Dylan would stay together and how your bangs looked.

Surprised that 35 bothers you just a bit.

Surprised by so many sweet gestures: unexpected Starbucks gift cards, phone calls from old friends, birthday tweets and facebook felicitations.

Surprised that I fashioned an entire post out of one goofy picture and the word surprised.  Surprised that you stuck around to the end.

Oh so happy that you did!

Project 3(Six)5

New year, new project, new blog (kind of).  I've been tempted to tackle Project 365, in which you commit yourself to taking a photo a day for a year.  Some people stick to a theme (self-portraits, kids, food), but I'm just hoping to make it out the other side in one piece, with 365 photos under my belt.

Nearly two years ago, I did 30 posts in 30 days.  It really pushed me to think about my days and I'd like to think it improved my writing a bit.  Looking back, I enjoyed having a snippet of each day recorded.  I'm hoping Project 365 will accomplish much of the same thing: improving my photography and providing a glimpse at a year's worth of the extraordinary ordinary.

I wanted to find a way to share the photos in my project beyond the handful of people who look at my flickr page.  Theoretically, I could do it here, but I didn't want to bog down this blog, nor change its feel, with daily photo posts.  Enter Typepad's newest service, the microblog.  Nothing fancy, just a slick little blog to quickly upload photos and perhaps a few words.  I call it 3(six)5.  My mantra for 3(six)5 is "More photos. Less words."  I'll let the pictures tell the story.

I hope you'll check it out now and then.  You'll always be able to link directly to it through the navigation bar at the top of this blog.  If you're feeling adventurous, you can subscribe directly to its feed.  There's a link on the sidebar of 3(six)5 for you to do just that.

Happy New Year!

Angie & Ana's First (But Definitely Not Last!) Annual Cookie Exchange

At the beginning of every holiday season, I like to take some time to think about how I want to spend these few magical weeks.  It's a yearly reevaluation of sorts - what did we do last year that we loved?  What have we always talked about doing but never attempted?  It's essentially trying on traditions and seeing which ones fit and become part of your family story and which ones become the equivalent of an itchy wool sweater passed on to Goodwill.  

For a few years now, my sister Suzan has hosted a cookie exchange that's become quite the envy of Coppell, Texas.  Unfortunately, we've yet to make Texas a Christmas tradition, so every year I miss out on the extravaganza.  This year I decided to take matters into  my own hands and host my own Cookie Exchange.  Seeing as how there seems to be a genetic predisposition to becoming a cookie diva, I enlisted my other sister, Ana, to co-host the cookie exchange.  With our fearless Texan sibling as our mentor, we went for it.

This Cookie Exchange tradition? It's no wool sweater.  It's cashmere, baby.  As long as cashmere sweaters go with elastic waist pants.  Because when you're done eating all the wonderful cookies our 19 guests baked? Those skinny jeans won't fit anymore.  Look at the pictures, though.  So worth it.  I'll work on my waistline in January.  For now, I'll just work on the six dozen cookies I scored when all was said and done. 

Happy nom nom nom Holidays nom nom nom!

C is for Cookie

Looking for me?  I'm not here today, but you can find me over at Inexpensively.  They asked me to do a guest post about my upcoming Cookie Exchange, and I was happy to yammer on and on about the big event and why you should host your own.  Come on over and say hi!  Extra points if you leave a comment over there about your favorite holiday cookie and the story behind it.

Hap, hap, happy Holidays

I really hope this isn't a sign of what kind of Christmas were in for.

Eli was so excited to see Santa.  Both kids ran up to him with glee.  Then Santa dropped Eli.  Twice.

It's kind of how I'm feeling.  I was so excited for this particular Christmas.  I was getting things done right and left.  We were going to have the most peaceful and "hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny effin' Kaye.*"

And then . . .

• My mom ends up in the hospital over Thanksgiving and the holiday just isn't the same without her.

• I seal and address over half of our Christmas cards before I realize our name isn't printed anywhere on the card.  Happy holidays from that family that looks vaguely familiar!

• There is an incident with our laptop.  I won't go into details, and I'm using it at this very moment, but the monitor has some interesting visual effects to work around.  Where is the Mac Book fairy when you need her?

• I step on the scale only to realize I've gained back every single pound I've lost since August.

I realize it's early in the season.  Therefore, I'm not ready to give in to my inner Scrooge yet.  I resolve to find the bright spots in an otherwise grumpy week.  This includes:

• Hearing Eli sing along to The Killers in the car.  And knowing the lyrics.

• Elena offering to set her alarm and wake up with Eli on the weekend.  She might not change diapers, but she makes a mean bagel and she knows how to work the TV.

• Seeing "New Moon" last Saturday.  Sparkly vampires and rock-hard werewolf abs can really elevate a girl's spirit.

• Wine and Graeter's Pumpkin Ice Cream.  Which very well could explain the recent weight gain.  Hmm . . .

Hope you're having a cheerier start to your holidays.  And if not?  Venting is always in season here at Just Like The Number.

*To paraphrase the great Clark Griswold, who also makes my holidays cheery and bright.

10 Books That Fundamentally Changed My Perspective

In an effort to procrastinate from doing something more productive, but ultimately less fun, I found myself rearranging the books on my living room shelves.  I read somewhere that it's visually pleasing to arrange your books by color, so that's what I did.  For the record, no one has noticed the change, not even my very own husband.  So if you're looking for something to do in your home that will WOW you?  That's probably not it.

On the up side, though, I was rewarded with a very enjoyable hour or so of sitting on my living room floor and leafing through some of my most beloved books.  I'm not a keeper of things in general, nor a book-buyer, so if a book is purchased and continues to live on my bookshelf?  It's a really good one. 

So many of these books were responsible for some really big light bulb moments in my life, so I thought I would share them with you.

10 Books That Fundamentally Changed the Way I . . .

Feel About Motherhood:  Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott.  Before reading this book I had all these conflicting feelings about how I thought I was supposed to feel about motherhood and how I actually felt.  Anne's essays on her first year of being a mother were honest, raw and freaking hilarious.  I laughed, I cried, I pumped my fist in the air.  I love everything by her, but this book will always be special to me.

Managed my Kid's Illnesses:   Smart Medicine for a Healthier Child.  Written about in further detail here.

Handled Birth Control and Geting Pregnant:  Taking Charge of Your Fertility by Toni Weschler.  After years of being on the pill, I turned to this book for a more natural method.  I know more than I ever thought I could know about my cycle and certain, um, fluids.  I'll have you know that both of my pregnancies were planned and conceived using the methods I learned here.  No surprise babies here.

Handle Money:  Financial Peace by Dave Ramsey.  The more recent Total Money Makeover is also excellent.  Live like no one else so one day you can live like no one else.

Educate My Children:  You Are Your Child's First Teacher by Rahima Baldwin Dancy.  I first read this when Elena was just a baby.  It opened my eyes to a different way of interacting with your child.  The author is a strong advocate of Waldorf  education, but her philosophies on education eventually led me to Montessori.  For that I am very thankful.

Thought About How My Kids Play:  Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv.  This book can be bit dry at times, but it's drastically changed the priority I put on getting my kids outside.  The light bulbs went off a lot while reading this one.

Read To and Choose Books For My Kids:  The Read-Aloud Handbook by Jim Trelease.  This book warrants an entirely separate post in the near future.  We've always been big on reading aloud to our kids, but this book helped me to see why it's so important - not just for little ones, but for big kids, too.  Great suggestions of books for different age groups, as well as tips for how to make the most out of your reading sessions.

Eat:  Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver.  I dare you to read this book and not want to start your own garden.  And raise chickens.  Mike is thanking his lucky stars I've only made it as far as the garden.

Discipline My Kids:  How To Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish.  I re-read this one over and over.  What can I say, I'm a slow learner and my kids misbehave A LOT.

Cook:  The Best Recipe by Cook's Illustrated.  This book was my gateway drug into the world of America's Test Kitchen.  I've never made anything from their vast collection of recipes that wasn't awesome.  Each recipe is preceded by an essay which explains the process involved in coming up with the best recipe.  It satisfies the nerd and chowhound in me like nothing else can.  When I grow up I want to be a cook in the Test Kitchen.

What about you?  Is there a book that opened up your mind to a new way of thinking?  I'd love to hear about it in the comment section. 

Indiana's Favorite Blog Contest

 

This little ol' blog has hit a milestone:  I've been nominated for my very first blogging contest.  Linking Indiana is hosting "Indiana's Favorite Blog" contest, and I'm nominated in the Family category.  I'm up against some stiff competition.  Which means to say I have about as much chance at winning as Jet's quarterback Mark Sanchez has at getting some cotton candy on the bench next Sunday. 

The good news (beside the honor of just being nominated - that's what I'm supposed to say, right?) is that I'm the leader in the Family category. Still, I'd love to give those sports guys over at The G2 a run for their money.  I may be a mommy blogger, but I cover sports, too!  Well, Peyton, anyways.  That's gotta count for a couple of votes.

All kidding aside, if you're a fan of Just Like The Number I'd appreciate you taking the time to visit Linking Indiana and voting for me (as a side note, the site does require registration to vote, but you do not have to be an Indiana resident to vote).  Thanks so much!