Coffee in my new favorite mug, a freebie from PBS Kids Sprout at BlogHer.

I'm playing along with Nie Nie's weekly show and tell at BlogHer - this week? She wants to know what you're doing right now :)

Posted by Jenny at 11:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Honestly, I don't know whether to lay my head down on my desk and weep with relief, or continue the Bollywood-style dancing that spontaneously broke out in the middle school parking lot as my oldest disappeared from my sight.

I'm really bad at that sliding your head from side to side part, but I'm good at jumping around, I'm discovering.

Yesterday, the two younger kids went back to school - delighted to be in 2nd and 5th grade this year.

My oldest is starting her Junior High years today, and I'll admit that she and I are both equally nervous and excited about it. I remember starting sixth grade. At least I think I do. I had blue pants and a new top and was quite pleased with my "look." I also had my sister starting at the same time, and so I had a built-in friend.

My daughter said, just before we parted this morning, "In Kindergarten, you could just say "let's be friends!" and then you were. I don't think that's how it works in sixth grade."

Maybe not, but here's hoping.

When I wandered out to the kitchen this morning, she was already up and dressed, with her backpack by her side. Now, mind you, her school day starts at 9 am, and it was barely 6:15. I greeted her and started some oatmeal, got the other kids up and ready and then she walked along with us to drop the other kids at school for their second day.

After getting then to their classes and heading for home, she got a little antsy, and began throwing out random facts about animals and climate control. Did you know it is legal to own a Fennick Fox in Oregon? Now you do.

As we got closer to home she had descended into her time-honored keep your mind busy so you don't freak out dialog about The Future, in which she will be converting a swimming pool to a koi pond. She practiced introducing herself in Japanese. She brushed her hair and checked that her (clear) lip balm was applied evenly.

Finally, we headed out for the annual picture by the tree, and then drove to the school.

When we arrived, we were met by a big sign that says Students Enter Here. After introducing myself and my daughter to the principal, he asked who her first teacher was. We dug out the information from her backpack and he said "Follow me, I'll show you the way."

Here is where I had a moment of indecision. Do I go too? Am I ALLOWED to go? Do I just let her go? Does she want me to go? I grabbed her for a quick hug and kiss and watched as she trotted off after the principal.

And, exhale.

I ran into a mom I know from the elementary school (Hi, Toni!) and we chit-chatted for a few minutes about the school and the kids and the whole time I was trying to sneak a peek of where my daughter was standing, who she was talking to, if she looked like she was freaking out.

I didn't see her, and although I'm sure it was a little scary and awkward to be surrounded by a whole bunch of new faces, she only had a few minutes until the first class was to begin.

I said goodbye to my friend, and walked alone to my car, sliding my head from side to side and jumping around to a Bollywood beat that only I could hear. And then I sat in the car, quietly panicking. Should I run back up to the school and try to find her. Should I have stayed with her until the moment she needed to walk inside the classroom.

And then I remembered how it went down in Kindergarten. She squared her shoulders, entered the room and never looked back, leaving me and the hubs bouncing around outside the classroom windows, hoping to catch her eye. She made friends by simply announcing that she was open for new-friend-business. I cried my eyes out that day, not from sadness, but in reaction to the passing of time.

And here I am again, quietly wiping tears, unsure that I did a good enough job but trusting that she'll be fine.

Posted by Jenny at 9:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

When my family dropped me off at the airporter bus, they didn't just drop and run. No, all three kids and the husband ran orbits around me and my luggage as we waited for the bus. All three kids plastered my lips with spitty kisses (my favorites!) and I finally boarded the bus to screams of I LOVE YOU MOMMY!

Mind you, they do not demonstrate their love like that most of the time. Perhaps the thought of a week without my gentle, loving care was driving them to it? Or was it an offensive strike, knowing that I would be in New York, land of Lollipops As Big As Their Heads? The jury is still out, although I believe they missed me quite a bit. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I'm a BlogHer Veteran.

From 2005's magical conference where I was blondish and full of badass (with Donna, Jenifer, Jennifer, Meghan and Mindy):

(via http://www.flickr.com/photos/slolane/30424681/)

To 2006's weird hotel but awesome friends who made me laugh like a hyena (with Tracey, Kari, Tracy and Julie) :

(via Karianna)

To 2007's Chicago stop where I was all strapless dresses (and sitting on people) all the time (with Dawn, Jennifer, and Izzy):

To 2008's awesome event in San Francisco where I signed books and drank lots of fancy drinks (with the lovely Schmutzie):

To 2009's return to Chicago, where there was a whole lot of this (with Jenny On The Spot):

To this amazing, amazing year... 2010 in NYC, where I wore feathers in my hair and laughed until I was hoarse. Again. Like always. (with my homegirls Jenifer and Yvonne.)

The Sweet Potato Queens talk about revirgination. You know, you end a dating relationship, and you are magically re-virginated before your next relationship. For me, in a lot of ways, each BlogHer was like that. I had the time of your life, left invigorated, but by the next year, doubts and insecurities would start creeping back up - am I too fat? Will people like me? Will I say stupid things?

And then I'd arrive, meet up with a few friends, old or new, didn't matter, and I was right back in the saddle.

Wow, could I mix my metaphors any worse?

This year was something special, even with all the wonderful conferences we've had over the years. This year, most of the faces in the crowd were new to me, and there was a definite excitement and charge in the air. Attendees were passionate, the parties were so fun. Even the sponsor area was electric.

I've got lots of things to say about BlogHer, but suddenly find myself tongue-tied. Probably over the evolution of my hair and outfits. From blond to feather-head. What will I be wearing in San Diego? You'll just have to plan to meet me there to find out.

Posted by Jenny at 8:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

008, originally uploaded by mizzjenny.

My 2 month old nephew is positively edible.

That is all.

Posted by Jenny at 5:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

T-minus two hours until I climb aboard an airporter, bound to the airport and then on to NYC. As you might expect, I'm still not 100% packed, my kids are running around in their underpants, smeared with ice cream and bubble solution, and my mind is wandering.

Just now, for example, I was thinking about something that I can't remember, that somehow led me to consider those artists who paint clothing on naked models. I mused on whether that would be comfortable or awkward. It turns out really great on those swimsuit model types.

And then, as I packed all the Spanx I own, I mused on my own possible body painting looks.

I'm thinking I could do an awesome face on my torso. Like this:

Also:

Just... What?

So yeah, let's all be glad that someone with my attention span is not flying the plane tonight.

Posted by Jenny at 4:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

My husband slapped his alarm off at 5:30 am and crawled out of bed. I burrowed back under the blankets, exhausted from a night of horrible dreams and apnea-interrupted breathing. At 7:30, I reluctantly gave up trying to sleep and stood balanced on the balls of my feet in the kitchen, dreams about garter snakes loose on the linoleum keeping me leery and unwilling to stand flat-footed for some reason.

Two weeks ago, he was in Rhode Island for business. This week it was Massachusetts and Connecticut. And maybe New Hampshire? In the early days of our marriage, I always knew where he was at any given time. Now, I'm like, see you Thursday? What time does your flight land again?

In between these two trips, we shoehorned our annual camping trip. Next week I'm off to NYC. This weekend, we'll be taking the kids to an amusement park. I know there are people who are constantly on the go like this all the time, to which I say OMG WHY. GO TAKE A NAP.

Anyway, when he travels, I sleep with my cell phone on my bedside table because I figure if there is a problem, he'll call that number instead of the house line to avoid waking the kids. He never does call in the middle of the night, but I like to be prepared.

At 3:30 yesterday morning, a text came in. I woke up, and saw that he was letting me know he was boarding his flight, and it felt like the middle of the night for him. I texted back that it IS the middle of the night and made a few more snarky observations and then went face down on the mattress once again. He did it again at 5:30, and I tried to ignore it, but my phone kept chirping.

I finally got up. No point in sleeping when your man keeps texting just to say "on a plane!"

He got home around 1pm our time, I think. Maybe it was 2pm. I was still tiptoeing into the kitchen, sure I'd see snakes. (No snakes, thank goodness.)

When I knocked off work at 5, we took the kids to the pool for a couple hours, and then hit up a Vietnamese restaurant for dinner. The restaurant had the X-Games on, and we discovered that is it just as much fun to
critique skateboarders as it is to be all judgy about olympic divers and gymnasts.

Back at home, we all collapsed in bed early. More crazy dreams last night - my psyche must be pretzel-shaped.

Posted by Jenny at 8:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I pulled myself out of bed this morning around 4 am, and stumbled to the kitchen, scrubbing at my eyes and not wanting to wake the kids. Since giving myself that raging sinus infection, I've been leery to use my stupid breathing mask thing. As a result, I've been suffering through some of the weirdest dreams ever.

I dreamed that I was being forced to adopt seven kittens and while I was stressed about the logistics, the thing that woke me in a cold sweat was the dream-kids fighting over what to name them.

I dreamed that my entire extended family except me had been turned into zombies, and I was stressed about the logistics, but the thing that shot me awake with a pounding heart was the fact that I was (in my dream) behind on emails for work.

I also dreamed I had a tail, and my tail had a rash. I woke up itching. It was blue and spiked. The tail, not the rash.

The weather has been chilly, but today enough sun broke through that I felt justified in taking the kids to the pool for an hour. They jumped right into the cold water, while I basked in the sun like a lizard, trying to absorb some warmth.

Back at home, I noticed that while my legs remain ghostly white, my face has now taken on a ruddy tone, perfect for all those BlogHer photo opportunities.

That reminds me of another weird dream. I was being held against my will in some sort of prison camp, and I woke up because I couldn't remember all the words to a song I was trying to sing in the dream. I woke up totally irate, but couldn't remember what song it was.

Yeah, time to brave the mask again, methinks.

My oldest has been obsessed with her upcoming start of middle school. She's so ready for this show to get on the road. She wants to shop for school supplies right this minute, despite the fact that we still have a ton of supplies, and we don't know what the school recommends or requires. She has also spent quite a few days planning possible outfits, all of which look like something out of a Japanese anime. I'm not sure how to break it to her that she'll be wearing jeans and tees, not thigh-high platform boots and cat ears, but maybe the lack of these items being available in the mall will resign her to a more 6th grade friendly look.

My son hasn't grown, and since it is summer and I can scarcely keep a shirt on him, most of the summer tees and jeans I bought him at the end of the school year still fit perfectly and look like they are new. Or that faux-aged look that we pay good money for.

Oh my GOD. I just aged 30 years by saying that.

He's never shown any inclination to follow a certain style. He likes striped shirts the best, but I think that is from all the Blue's Clues we watched back in the day. He just wants to be comfortable. And I can work with that.

My youngest is reaping the benefits of having an older sister and has a ton of hand-me-downs she's just now growing into. I'm still going to get her a new outfit or two to start school. It's not a need, but I want to do it, so she'll feel special and so the back to school photos will be cute. Really, it is about the photos.

Every year, we've hauled the kids out into the front yard and posed them under the tree in their new outfits, lunchboxes and backpacks in hand. But this year, my oldest starts her new school the day after the littles go to their first day. I'm left with a dilemma - should I dress her up in her new outfit and make her pose with the kiddies? Or do I do a shot of her first day separately?

Yes, I'm thinking about this three-weeks early. My time would be better spent obsessing about what to wear to BlogHer. But the truth is I'm going to wear a handful of dresses and maybe some shoes. No, definitely some shoes. And I'll probably do some panic shopping on Saturday. Do I need to do this? No. I have a ton of stuff to wear in my closet. Will I do it anyway? Yes.

I went into the BlogHer offices last week for a visit, and half the staff was discussing how they had scheduled hair and nail appointments for the week before the conference. I am overdue, and luckily was able to con my stylist into working me in this Saturday. Now, I too will prance into the conference like a My Little Pony named Dazzleberry, gray roots banished.

My husband will tell you this hair baloney is not a necessity, but my gray roots are probably going to be the next thing that jolts me awake from a dream about being shipwrecked or something.

That's sort of my pattern this year - yeah yeah, major bad things are going on in the world but my kids have cabin fever and THAT is what is jolting me awake.

You can call me the the queen of minutia. Or Dazzleberry. I'll answer to that, too.

Posted by Jenny at 6:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)