I Love The Internet: The Mom 2.0 2014 Edition
The first rule of blogging conferences is to post about the last blogging conference before you go to the next one. I’m off to BlogHer next week, so here we go. (That’s not really a rule. I totally made it up to get myself to finish this post that I’ve had half finished in my drafts since May. Don’t tell.)
I could tell you how Mom 2.0 totally ruled. I could tell you all about everything I learned and how I’m such a better blogger because of it. Or something. But, May was a long time ago and what really lasts from these conferences (all of them) are these incredible connections we make. Yes, some of those connections are with brands. But mostly with each other. This community carries itself. We carry each other. And at the conferences, we have the chance to meet and laugh and dance and get to know each other better. Or, corner each other on a bus and ask them all the questions about their faith (I have a faith question problem. Sorry Jenny!). Or, you know, take all the selfies.
This week’s I Love The Internet is a collection of posts from all those I took selfies with at Mom 2.0 back in May. Some are great friends I can’t live without. Some I am just getting to know. All write in such a way that inspire me regularly and make me better. As a writer, as a person, as a parent.
Because I’ve been working on this post since May, some of these posts featured are older. Even if you’ve read them before, read them again. Blog posts don’t have to just live in the moment and die as they so often do. It’s important to remember where we were. Or just to pay attention to each other. Because that’s where the beauty lies. We do the work in our writing, but we also do the work in supporting each other in all of this.
“I never experienced motherhood without the Internet. When I became unexpectedly pregnant at the age of 19, I used the university’s Internet service to research pregnancy and birth and baby care. By the time my son was a few months old in early 1998, we had a home dial-up connection and I spent naptimes and late nights chatting with mothers in forums, email lists and chat rooms. If I had a question, I always had someone to ask. If I was having a hard time, a listening ear was never more than a click away.”
Read more of Could The Internet Have Saved My Mother? on Huffington Post by Meagan Francis of thehappiesthome.com.
“The more we discussed his privilege the more I realized that in being so quick to point out his, I was completely ignoring my own.”
“In that room, I think we all felt an overwhelming sense of empathy and connection. I fought the urge to try to fix things, and instead to just sit with them and empathize and listen. We reiterated that we felt it was not fair that such disparities exist based on where we were born. They seemed relieved to hear us acknowledge that. I think we all sat in that room feeling that we are so much alike. I couldn’t help thinking that it is women who really need to rise up and help one another. These girls are our sisters, born into different circumstances, and doing what they need to do to survive.”
“As someone who identifies as a Boston lifer, April 15, 2013 changed how I feel about and experience this city; I’m sure that’s the case for many. In the immediate days following the Boston Marathon bombings, I experienced many moments of clarity and dissonance. And every day since, I have experienced small touch points (e.g., errands on Boylston, communication with family in Watertown, runner friends training for April 21, my own modest runs) that make me think about the tragedy and its intense, penetrating ripple effect.”
“I love summer because the chaotic schedule loosens up. I love summer because it is warmer than January. I love summer because it means there is more time available during the day to spend with my kids.”
“I keep not wanting to write about the pigeon, but I can’t seem to write about anything else while I’m actively not-writing about the pigeon. I have started about seven different posts over the last few days, but it all keeps coming down to this damn bird, even when I’m trying to write about houseplants, and I have to stop and get up to wander the apartment or eat toast so I can think about something else. I feel stunned by heartlessness, like I am a child who has been knocked upside the head for being stupid.”
“The giant crabapple tree in our backyard is finally in bloom — a month later than normal, granted, but in bloom nonetheless, its delicate white flowers wafting their subtle fragrance through the weekend air, shedding their petals slowly onto the lawn.
So of course what the boys are doing is whacking away at the tree with a garden rake and booting a soccer ball in amongst the branches in an effort to knock down as many petals as possible. They have a friend over — another neighbourhood kid — and he is helping with the flower massacre when he is not trying to set the deck on fire using the sun’s rays and a magnifying glass.”
“I have a bad habit of engaging in what I call “stinkin’ thinkin’”; I’ll be anyone else’s biggest cheerleader, but will often naysay myself right out of whatever brilliant idea I had. As soon as I realized I was headed down that path again, my word for the year swam into mind: MOVE.”
“I have been making writing here a priority every week day. That means: show up, write, mark the day. Too many days go by where I skip saying or writing anything because I have mismanaged my time or I feel like I have nothing of value to say. Value? Writing is something I do everyday for work, but it is a different muscle to do it for myself and unless I show up here it will continue to be bumbling and awkward when I really just want to meander and dabble about the keyboard.”
“Life IS heartbreaking. Losses like mine (infant death) and so many others (stillbirth, miscarriage, childhood death, etc) aren’t supposed to happen. At least that’s what our brains and hearts tell us. Life IS beautiful and heartbreaking. Just like there is beauty in death and loss. It’s not able to be seen at first, and honestly can take years, but there IS beauty in death.
I don’t understand why these things happen.”
“There are multiple way in which we all advocate for our kids. They’re usually big gestures like pushing up hill for educational evaluations and testing modifications or advocating for medical testing or treatment that could change the course of a disease or symptom course.
What about the little things though? Every single day there are small ways in we can advocate for our kids in their day-to-day living that may make their lives easier.”
Blogging rules. Keep supporting each other. I love the internet.