From the monthly archives:
I’m just a walking pregnancy cliche.
And if you’re like me, with no real desire (or money) to shop, check out my local tips for staying stylish while being frugal in this month’s Mindful Metropolis. Your wallets and husbands will thank me.
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I recently interviewed national and local experts for Chicago Parent magazine on how to raise socially and emotionally balanced high achieving middle schoolers (whew!). I’d better start prepping my three-year-old now.
And, I’m over at Chicago Moms Blog talking about trying to keep my friends who moved to the suburbs.
Happy reading!
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Even though I swore up and down that I’m “over” BlogHer and the swag and the parties, I can’t stop thinking and reading about it all – the bag of stuff just sitting under my desk, the pocket video camera that was the “sought after” swag to get at the parties. (Which, I “called” and “took” from my friend as we were divvying up the goods. I can’t believe I actually did that and then joked about it. )
It all is just not sitting so well with me, so in a moment of materialistic Zen, I decided to do something a little rash (for me at least.) I’m auctioning it all off on eBay for charity (The Chicago Abortion Fund.) If you’re pissed you didn’t get Crocs (which aren’t in the bag, btw because I knew I wouldn’t wear them although they looked comfy), or you really want that Little Giraffe neck pillow, or you’re yearning for some more zip drives, PLEASE BID.
Oh yeah, and that Kodak pocket video camera is in there as well.
It’s all going to a better cause than for my personal gain. I do appreciate what all the sponsors were doing for us, but I know someone out there will use what’s in the bag more than I and I want to give back a little something to a dear friend and a woman’s right to choose.
Here’s the link to the auction again:
Please help me spread the word!
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I’ve never been on The Price is Right or Wheel of Fortune, but after my whirlwind experience at BlogHer, I think I’ve had enough “brought to you by…” to last me a lifetime. Last time I went to BlogHer, there were sponsors and swag to be found, but this time around it felt more like a game show than a conference.
Fortunately, there’s only so much swag a pregnant achy back can lug around, so I mostly ignored all the “paid for,” “sponsored by,” and “here here take my business card and my giveaway from my sponsor,” chatter. Of course, like she said, not all bloggers are like that, and not all parts of the conference were like that. And the time I spent away from the Expo Hall in the hallway outside of the actual sessions with my blog BFFs and at the two parties I went to made all the crazy sponsorship-advertisement-self-promotion hell disappear like all my business cards did in those giveaway bowls. (I didn’t say I didn’t want to get some free shit.)
I even shared some of my free shit with her, Marketing Mommy (R). But I kept the Kodak thing-y. Cause I got there first, ya know.
And of course BlogHer wouldn’t be BlogHer if there wasn’t some controversy over something. Put thousands of women together and the claws come out. This year, it was bringing babies to parties, bars, events, sessions, what have you. Of course, the only baby I brought was the one that was pressing on my bladder the whole time and well, I don’t think it bothered anyone except the hotel bathroom which I visited too many times to count.
Speaking of people, because I was a lame-ass attendee who couldn’t drink and a D-List blogger (don’t worry kids, I haven’t forgotten about you), there were so many people I wanted to talk to but didn’t get a chance to and those I got to talk to but not for enough time. (Wow, that’s a lot of linking for a D-lister.)
If this woman, A Hen and Two Chicks (c) can put up with my bathroom habits, I can put up with her yummy baby.
Ok, now, back to the swag and all the crap I tried to avoid but nonetheless acquired in less than 24 hours of schmoozing and not boozing at SponsHer. Like back in ‘07, I set out not to accumulate things I didn’t need, but somehow I ended up with two huge vinyl bags of stuff that was mostly for girls. I left too early to donate it to charity like she suggested, so it ended up in the wondering hands of a three-year-old who thinks there are actually presents sitting in such bags that he’s actually going to like and use. Oh, how naive he is. If I was richer, I’d give it away to the D-listers, but really, I’ll end up losing my savings in postage fees.
The swag's so good, I haven't even unpacked it yet.
But I’m not down on SponsHer. I get why they need the sponsors, I can see why some events didn’t want babies, and as a former event planner, I know how hard it is to pull something like this off. Plus, I heard the keynote was kick-ass and I’m kicking myself for missing it. Maybe next year I’ll skip the sessions, the swag and just hang out in the lobby the whole time. And call it BlogHer once again.
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It’s a dilemma that comes up only once or twice a year, around the time certain conferences are scheduled, or I have a psuedo-business meeting. It’s the dreaded feeling of guilt, but of the non working mom kind. Like, the kind that says, do I really need to spend $300 to attend a conference for no other reason than it provides me a good excuse to get out of the house and interact with other like-minded women?
Yes, I do need that. But the other, Jewish-guilt ridden part of me feels badly that my son has to miss camp class and a swimming lesson tomorrow because I don’t want my part-time sitter to drag him around town. Or that my IRL friends are making play dates and movie dates and are wondering why I can’t join.
To escape from my household routine for only a mere 24 hours now seems like trying to arrange a ride on the space shuttle. When I was working, it wasn’t so logistically challenging or gut wrenching to leave. It was the norm. One-and-a-half years later, and my three-year-old keeps asking me where I’ll be tomorrow (a meeting.) Or why we needed to run to Fed Ex Office late yesterday to pick up stickers for “my party.” (This one was harder to explain.)
I know come Saturday, when I’m exhausted from parties and adult chatter and I have to entertain my child at ungodly morning hours these feelings will all be but a blip on my non-working radar. But right now I’m just feeling the pain of all moms. Guilt.
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At first, I was going to write this post about all the scary things I’ve been reading about regarding endocrine disrupting chemicals and their affects on unborn fetuses. I mean, Dr. Karp told me personally to avoid nail polish and other beauty products in order to avoid being a phalate-carrying menace. Boy did that put me in a bad mood. Double-whammy for me is that this crap really matters in the first trimester, and since I’m almost at month 6, well, hell, I’m going to get my feet rubbed and scrubbed. (In all seriousness, though, Nicole of Nine Naturals did send me a link to this site, which is pretty helpful.)
But no, not even after trying to find a safe, toulene-free nail polish (although OPI brand does not use formaldehyde anymore), I gave up and started worrying about something else entirely.
I’ve lost the desire to shop.
It’s scary, I know. I have no interest in perusing stores, browsing online or gasp, even going to the low-hanging shopping fruit known as Target.
I should have known something was amiss on Friday, after I got my haircut downtown and had no desire to make the three block walk from my salon to H&M. I always like going to H&M.
But the pregnancy hormones have overtaken even my frugal shopper hormones (remember when I was supposed to be all about being frugal here?)
I’m not even a frugal shopper anymore. I’m an abstinent shopper. I don’t have the drive or the will. (Or the money.)
Maybe the winds of Fall will also bring my shopping mojo back again. But until then I’ll be high and dry and wearing my old, elastic waist duds.
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