Author: Lee Laughlin

The Dork at THIS keyboard

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With apologies to Oh The Joys, this post is in honor of Tanis, and in a few years, for my kids.

Me in 6th Grade
Me Circa 6th Grade

There was a time when I wanted to be “cool”. I wanted to look like the other kids and wear what the cool kids wore (In sixth grade I had to have moccasins, in 7th grade, a pair of dark blue Nikes with the light blue swish). In high school I settled into the band crowd and that mostly worked for me. I still wasn’t a cool kid, but I had “people”. In college, I realized that my different looks were an advantage. People remembered me (in a good way) and I started to use that to my advantage. It my mid-20’s, I hit my stride and never looked back. Like it or lump it baby, I yam-what-i-yam, ya know?

In honor of Tanis’s post about marching to her own drummer, I share with you what makes me, me.

I was a Mac user long before Apple was cool and during the years when Steve Jobs wasn’t CEO and everyone said they were done for. I tell people my blood runs in six colors and most people don’t get it.

My first car was a brand new mini-van, by choice. I miss the functionality and would get another one in a heartbeat if it was practical where we live.

I wore sneakers under my wedding dress and proudly showed them off. I live in Danskos in the winter and Crocs sandals in the summer. I think high heels are painful and high fashion is stupid. There are days when I dress to impress, but I refuse to be uncomfortable.

I loved Star Trek the Next Generation. I thought the Wesley Crusher was cool.

I love to dance, but am hopelessly uncoordinated. There has been at least one trip to the ER tied to my dancing.

Solid, three part harmonies bring tears to my eyes. Blue grass fiddles cut right to my soul.

I didn’t start listening to FM radio until high school. As a result, I know the words to way to many cheesy 70’s songs. This includes (but is NOT limited too), Daddy Please Don’t, Convoy, The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia Any Barry Manilow song from the 70’s, Dead Skunk and several Tony Orlando and Dawn Songs. Those are just the songs in my iTunes library. I spent the first two years of college listening to the classic rock station just trying to catch up. I never made it to the “cutting edge” stuff.

I like Nickleback too. I like, 38 Special Styx, Poison, Quiet Riot, Ratt, Twisted Sister and Night Ranger. Today, my tastes, are more country. Garth Brooks, Trisha Yearwood, Miranda Lambert, but don’t leave out Anna Nalick, Norah Jones, and Jason Mraz. In short, my tastes are all over the map.

I like Dolly for her voice (no, really!) and yes, she has awesome business sense.

I bought The Climb by Miley Cyrus because I liked it.

I danced to Celine Dion with my Dad Dennis at my wedding (Because You Loved Me). I can belt out a mean “Its All Coming Back to Me Now”. No apologies Tanis.

I recently discovered romance novels. I can respect literature, but can rarely read it. I like good stories, and symbolism can frustrate me.

I go to the movies to be entertained. Make me laugh, and please don’t make me think too hard. I do that in other areas of my life.

My actor crush growing up? Andrew Stevens How’s THAT for out of the main stream. Anyone else remember Code Red?

I get very wrapped up in TV shows like ER and 24, to the point where I don’t watch them because they stress me out.

I hate most sit coms and reality TV because I hate to see people make fools of themselves.

I love Big Bang Theory because while not nearly as smart, I identify with the geeks.

I like old George Carlin and think that Dennis Blair is one of the funniest men walking the planet.

I drink tea, not coffee and while I have been exposed to a variety of fine teas, many of which I have enjoyed, I can be equally happy with a cup of Tetley.

I love acapella music.

My 3x Bioptic Telescope from Designs for Vision

My vision sucks, but I will not miss out on all that is to be experienced in this world. I hold things close to my face to read them and my bioptic allows me to see things clearly that are at a distance. Yes, it looks odd and if I catch you staring at me for a long time, I will turn my scope on you. If you are curious how it works, just ask me nicely. I’m happy to explain and if you’re nice, I might even let you try it.

These days, I embrace my inner dork on a regular basis. If Oh The Joys hadn’t used it first, I would have used “The Dork at the Keyboard” in my blogging description.

My daughter is approaching the precipice of her teenage years with impatience, mixed with fear and anticipation. Thanks to this book we regularly have discussions about menstrual cycles and their, uh, accouterments. I dread the teenage years because like Tanis, mine SUCKED and I want better for my kids. Yet, I know that it is just something that every kid had to get through. Right now, my daughter seems to follow her inner spirit and I can only hope she hangs on to that guide as time passes.

In the mean time, I save this link to show her it could be worse, she could be her for a mother 🙂 And, I’ll gather more photos of me to prove to my daughter, no one survives unscathed, but we all muddle through one way or the other.

My display o'dorkiness

Steak Miraculous

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The master at work

I was a picky eater as a kid.  In those days, if it wasn’t hot dogs, plain spaghetti with butter, bread or a sugared cereal, I wasn’t interested. Dennis, usually made it home from work before my mom so dinner duty usually fell to him. In an effort to defuse dinner time tensions between my mom and I, he would endeavor to make a big deal about dinner preparation.  When he was trying to get me to try something new, he’d call it Gourmet by Dennis.  The man couldn’t wield a screwdriver to save his life, but he was master of all things grilled. Usually.

On this occasion, Dennis’ cousin Paul would be joining us for dinner. The meat selection for the evening was a round steak. Dennis prepared the marinade, and allowed the steak to bathe in some wine, garlic and spices.  He wrapped the beef in heavy duty aluminum foil  and slathered it with onions, mushrooms and the marinade and put the “Steak Miraculous” on the Webber charcoal grill to cook.
Throughout the preparation, he hyped this meal as THE most amazing ever.  He assured me my taste buds were in for a treat.  My picky eater, tween self was more than skeptical, but I had learned by then to keep my food opinions to myself, lest another tussel break out about my preference to live on bread and Coco Puffs.
The table was set, the salad made and the potatoes baked (in the coals of course). The hype continued to build. Steak Miraculous would astound and amaze.  It would change the way I thought about dinner in general and steak specifically. It would be THE gold standard of dinners.
There was much pomp and ceremony surrounding the foil packet’s delicate removal from the grill.  Glory Glory Hallelujah may even have been hummed.  My mom, Paul, and I were told to be seated while the delicacy was plated and prepared for it’s debut.
It was presented, and we diners offered up the appropriate amount of oohs and ahhs for such a momentous occasion. The steak was cut, er hacked, and served.  I delicately picked away the offensive mushrooms and onions (I know, I know, remember I was a picky eater.  I’ve since become a devoted worshiper of the sacred triad that is mushrooms, onions and garlic). Carefully, I cut a small bite.  It took some effort, but I managed to break away a minute morsel and get it into my mouth. I chewed and I chewed, and I chewed.
It was what I imagined it would be like to eat corrugated cardboard. Corrugated cardboard that was marrinated in red wine and garlic. I kept chewing.  Like I said, I was a picky eater and had already engaged in my share of dinnertime tiffs over what I would and would not eat.  There was no way I was going to be the first to offer my less than stellar opinion of Steak Miraculous.  Slowly, I lifted my head to gauge the opinions of my fellow diners.  They too were still chewing.  I looked from my mom, to Paul to Dennis unable to read their expressions.  My mother broke first with a snort of laughter as she continued to chew, and chew.  Paul was next and finally Dennis.  I eventually joined the gales of laughter.   We laughed so hard we cried.
Steak Miraculous was awful.
It wasn’t just awful, Steak Miraculous was quite possibly THE most miraculous disaster in the history of Gourmet by Dennis.  It was 100% completely inedible.  It was tough and tasteless and flat out gross.  It was a meal that would live in infamy because I didn’t have to eat it.
I’ve since learned that round steak is best suited for slow cooking and thin slicing.  To this day when I see it on sale in a grocery circular, I chuckle. I also came to learn that the more Dennis hyped a dish, the less confident he was in its success.  Still, he kept trying and eventually I learned that there was more to life than bread and Coco Puffs.
Thanksgiving Perfection
Monday would have been Dennis’ sixty first birthday.  By the time he died, we’d shared many more successful Gourmet by Dennis dishes including, Potatos Anna, Bowman’s Tower Chicken and even a grilled Thanksgiving turkey. He however, was never able to convince me that turnips were a food, but that didn’t stop him from trying.
This post was inspiried by Busy Dad. Go watch his tribute to beef and learn how you could win $100 Omaha Steak gift card courtesy of the American Cattleman’s Association and The Motherhood.
I am not being compensated for my words, I’m married to a serious carnivore and I really want to win the gift card 🙂
It is worth noting that I grew up to appreciate all the glory that is a good cut of beef.  I refuse to buy beef in the super market.  Instead, we get ours from a local butcher.  The cost is a bit more per pound, but I have him package our order in appropriate portion sizes, so there is very little waste and the taste is worth it!

Windstorm 2010

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Um, at the risk of annoying Mother Nature, I feel the need to point out that last week’s Wind/Rain storm was not the weather I requested.

*Sigh*  can you imagine if that rain had been snow ?!? Ok, in light of the 70mph winds, maybe that wouldn’t have been so cool, but oh to have THAT much snow. At the height of the outage, more than half of all New Hampshire homes were without power. This was the second largest weather related power outage in New Hampshire history. Second, only to the Ice Storm of 2008. As much as I love snow, I’m really glad we didn’t have to contend with freezing temeperatures this time around.

Governor Jon Lynch praised all the Electric utilies for their quick work restoring service and their imporved communication this time around. I love that I can now follow PSNH on Twitter or Facebook. My sincere thanks to all the utility crews who worked so hard to get everyone back on line.

I wrote a post about our storm adventure, but truly, it was fairly mild.  We were without power for a little over 36 hours, but we have a generator and that takes a lengthy power outage from unbearable to an inconvenience.

I’ve read reports and see photos of some outrageous damage, how did you fair?

Daisy Dog

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Daisy Dog

June 14, 1998 – February 17, 2010

We didn’t pick her, she picked us.
My husband always had dogs growing up.  I always wanted a dog. We got a cat not long after we were married and finally in 1998, we owned a house and had the space and schedule for a dog.  I would have taken a mutt from the pound, but A-Man had always had collies, so we located a breeder and went to see the puppies she had one fall weekend. The outside kennel was chaos.  There were dogs every where.  All very excited to see people.  We met many dogs that day, but one, a butterscotch colored female came over, and sniffed A-Man and then basically tried to sit on his head.  She was loving and affectionate from the get go.  She was ours, and we named her Daisy.
As I recall, her puppyhood was marked by ups and downs.  House breaking her wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t brutal either.  She was four months old by the time we brought her home, so I think that made it easier.  She chewed a pair of my sunglasses and I thought she ate a pack of my sewing needles. Turns out she had just nibbled the plastic. She took to a crate easily.  One night, my husband and I were watching TV and heard the door to the crate close.  She’d put herself to bed.
The cat had long since claimed the role of Queen and Daisy fell in line with the pecking order.  Even when the kids came, she adjusted fairly easily.  She learned to give toddlers a wide berth and later she would learn about the unwavering affection of older kids.
Daisy loved to go on long walks through the neighborhood.  She was friendly, gentle and loved people.  We had to abandon teaching her to give us a paw because when she raised her paw, she’d knock over the little kids trying to show off. Most of our neighbors loved her.  Danny the mailman brought her a little biscuit everyday and would stop to talk with her and pet her. Neighborhood kids would stop by to chat and pet her regularly.
She didn’t like riding in the car (she’d get sick) and she developed a passionate dislike for anything with a gasoline engine. Our lot was triangle shaped and she spent much of her day outside in a kennel that had road on either side.  She would have a fit every time a school bus or garbage truck drove past. She had that long collie nose that would sometimes get her into trouble and she had an uncanny knack for lying right where I needed to walk.
She wasn’t crazy about being outside at night.  She’d howl. We did our best to keep her in after dark, but by then we had our daughter and sometimes it couldn’t be helped.  One night, we came home and she was gone, her kennel door wide open.  She was located the next day, two towns away.  We could never prove it, but we’re pretty sure a neighbor took her for a ride and let her go.  After that, we locked her kennel and had her microchipped.  Now that I think about it, that was the about the time we started talking about moving North.
Daisy was thrilled when we moved to New Hampshire.  She had the run of two four plus acre lots and by then, my mother-in-law had adopted one of her distant cousins. Daisy was in her glories.
She was pretty good about staying close to home, but a few times, the wind blew something across that nose and she just had to follow it. It was thanks to Daisy that we met some of our new neighbors.  She once spent an entire day at a neighbors house playing with her dog and 3 kids.
The was never a doubt, Daisy was A-man’s dog.  As a puppy, she’d join him on the couch when he watched TV.  Later, she claimed her spot on the floor in front of the couch. She was right there when A-man sat down and took his shoes off.  She knew her loves were coming next.
In the new house, her dog bed (an oversized stuffed dog), was at the end of our bed and in her younger years, she’d come upstairs after us and lay down.  She’d let out a big sigh like she was deflating and if A-Man and I talked too long or laughed too loud, she’d groan like we were disturbing her.
Eventually, her hips and knees started to give her trouble and she slept on the first floor. Age was taking its toll, but she was still her loving, easy going self.
Last night, she woke my husband up whining from the first floor.  He let her out and she didn’t come right back. When he found her, she was clearly having a hard time breathing and in distress.  We called the local emergency clinic and made arrangements to bring her in.  We debated waking the kids.  Poor Daisy was in rough shape and we knew what measures we were willing to take. Things weren’t looking good.  Ultimately we woke Fish and had her say her goodbyes.
The initial exam showed a tumor on her spleen and the possibility of bloat (when the stomach turns upside down). Regardless poor Daisy was facing major surgery.  There were doubts as to whether she would even make it through the surgery, so we made the difficult decision to euthanize her.
You know when you bring a dog into your life, chances are good you will out live her, but still it is sad when they go.
Singer/Songwriter Scott Kirby says four good dogs are all you can count on in life.  Daisy was one of our four.
Rest in Peace Daisy Dog thanks for all the loves and the groans. We’ll be sure to look out for trucks!

I Can Haz a Snowpocalypse PUHLEEZE

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Have you heard?

A 9 foot Frosty and a 4 foot Santa (up to his shoulders in snow)
Chirstmas 2008
It’s going to snow AGAIN!
It’s going to snow A LOT again.
It’s going to snow a lot again, but NOT HERE!!
At least this storm is going to touch the Granite State. The Seacoast is slated to get 1 to 3 inches; Concord, should see a dusting to an inch, but anything North of the Lakes Region?  nothin’, zero, bubkus.
We’ve already established that I like snow.  The people in the Mid-Atlantic states, most of them, eh, they aren’t so keen on piles and piles of the white stuff. This morning I saw a Facebook update from a D.C. resident that mentioned “Snoverkill“. As an aside, I wonder if any entrepreneurial souls with snow plows have headed South to cash in on the White Gold rush? If so, I’d love to talk to you.
I like snow because lets face, it New England, winters are long and well, bleak. A new blanket of the white and sparkly stuff just freshens things up.  It hides the drab browns and grays and instead brings out the crystal blue and sharp white.
My kid in front of a snow mountain at least a foot taller than they are. Winter 2008
Snow Plow Mountain Winter 2008
When there is snow on the ground, we can get outside to slide, tube, ski or snowshoe.  Without snow, we are stuck inside, crawling the walls counting the days until spring. Yes, the ski areas are wise to Mother Nature’s game and have long perfected methods to keep the trails covered with man made snow, but real snow is just so much better. It is like margarine vs. butter.  Margarine will do in a pinch, but butter is soooo much better.
In day to day life, I function as a grown up.  I sometimes complain about the bad timing of a snow storm (or two), but the reality is, I’m a just an overgrown child who relishes in snow days. The year we had almost 120 inches of snow, I was in my glories, but like any authentic child, I grumped when school ran until June 29th.
The grown up understands it is the weather and you can’t change it.  The child goes to bed every night wishing for snow and this year, I am one disappointed kid

Found My Bliss At Blissdom ’10

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Images from the Blissdom'10 ConferenceI’m home, I’m jazzed and I’m really glad I went to Blissdom‘10 in Nashville.

I was fortunate to have an awesome travel experience. Unfortunately, some got stuck in Nashville unable to leave due to the massive storm that socked the mid-Atlantic region. Although I guess there are worse things than being stuck at the lovely Gaylord Opryland Resort, I know I was glad to get home.

Thanks to my roommate Jennifer Wilson. It was pure serendipity (and great luck on my part) that we ended up rooming together, but I couldn’t have asked for a more fun and considerate roommate. Jennifer blogs about digital scrapbooking here at Simple Scrapper and also about life and food at Midwest Neruotica. Pop over and see her and tell her I sent you.

At the beginning of the conference, Alli Worthington one of the conference organizers told the assembly of 500+ women “We decided to go big or go home” and I’m really glad they didn’t go home. Blissdom ’10 was a great event and their hard work showed at every turn. Hats off to Alli Worthington, Barbara Jones and Paula Bruno. Take a bow ladies, ya done good.

My roommate Jennifer came to the conference armed with a specific list of goals and questions. In hindsight, I did too, but I didn’t wasn’t conscious of them them in advance and they were more internal than external.

Of late, I have been feeling overwhelmed. I know I want to write, I know I want to blog, but making time to write, making it a priority has been a real challenge. As much as I was really looking forward to the conference, I felt guilty about going since I wasn’t blogging as much as I would have liked. I was also feeling put upon and weighed down by family responsibilities.

This weekend away surrounded by all things blogging, brought me to some important realizations. No one is going to make this happen but me and I really DO want to make this happen. No one is stealing my time to write but me. No one is asking me to put myself at the bottom of the list, but me. It was a disturbing, but freeing realization. Freeing because if there is one thing I am certain about in life, it is that I cannot change others, but I can change me. And, since I’m the one causing the problems, I can fix them too.

While I Blissdom, I generated a number of important questions about my blogs, and I also identified some next steps that must be taken. Lastly, I practiced some self care. I made sure I ate relatively well, I socialized, but I also snagged some alone time. Most importantly, to me, I exercised all three days. The first day, I walked in the gray 40 degree temperatures. I was nice to be outside with only a fleece. The second and third day, I swam in Opryland’s amazing indoor pool. It was an excellent kick start to the day.

Blissdom has given me tons of content for this blog. A few sessions provided some interesting writing prompts, which generated some writing that with just a little tweeting will be posted here. I met lots of awesome people some of whom I want to introduce you to. While I have a renewed focus my writing, there are still only so many hours in a day, and a large number of my hours are committed to nurturing my marriage, raising two beautiful kids maintaining our home, so I’m going to string you along 🙂 and share bits and pieces of information as I can.

Lest you think I am all talk and no action, I have made some changes. I committed to leaving the house twice a week to write. To that end, I woke up early Monday morning, early enough to dress, shower and even put on a little make-up before I woke the kids. I made conscious choices about the clothes I put on, maintaining comfort, but also insisting on style. I did the same things at Blssdom and felt like they were good habits to continue. After I put the kids on the bus I made a beeline to Starbucks. My husband did an awesome job holding down the fort while I was gone, but, there were piles on the island and laundry awaited. I was (still am) behind on my Facebook news feed and Twitter, not to mention my RSS feed reader, but I was there, at the keyboard writing and I can’t tell you how good that felt.

So, thank you to the producers of Blissdom, thank you to my tribe (more on that later) and thank you to my husband for his support. I am home, I am jazzed and I’m on it!

Blissdom highlights
Kevin Carroll’s inspiring presentation including:

  • “Your work can be your play if you always have joy.”
  • “How’s your want to? Can’t do anything with a broken want to.”
  • “Sometimes you need to resign from adulthood.”
  • I also learned the rules to the game toilet tag.

Learning the phrase “Brain Porn” from Megan Jordan.

The awesome media training session from Dan Barber at Fleishman-Hillard. I’ve been a part of media out reach campaigns before, so not all of his information was knew to me, but it was awesome to have all the important information included in one place and Dan related to the audience exceptionally well.

Bearing witness to a reader recognizing a blogger she reads regularly (BookieBoo) and smile of pride that crossed the blogger’s face when BookieBoo lavishly complimented her dress.

My awesome tote bag from Land’s End

My husband tweeting he wished I’d win a Roomba from iRobot.

The yummy Hebrew National Hot dogs in puff pastry (thank you ConAgra foods for your sponsorship).

I met LOTS of people.  I have a 1 inch stack of business cards to sort through, but it was cool meeting two bloggers I regularly read, Amy from Chicken and Cheese and Casey from Moosh In Indy IRL.

The pool at the Opryland hotel.

I had a “ME TOO” moment during the Striking Balance session when Megan Jordan admitted she was completely overwhelmed by the check list from the Building Community session.  I seriously gained some perspective when she explained what she was going to do to battle the overwhelm.

Watching Casey sit straddling a wall four feet high to get great shots of Harry Connick Junior.

All the cute babies that thankfully were not mine.

The flower arrangements for the arrangements Redenbacker pop corn break. The arrangements coordinated with the types of popcorn being served. (like Limes with Salt, or cheddar cheese).

The creative center pieces at lunch on Friday and discovering that I do like grilled eggplant. I might just have to go buy George Duran’s book. He swears I’ll like Brussels sprouts if I do. I’m skeptical, but after the eggplant, I might give it a try.

Southwest airlines calling ME to rebook my cancelled flights.

Watching Casey and Tanis sing redneck woman

Admiring all the little chubby cheeks and nummy toes but not having to deal with the smelly diapers or the cranky babies 😦

Watching Casey dedicate “I Want You To Want Me” to Heather Spohr (a.k.a Mamaspohr ) at Karaoke.  I don’t know the back story, but both of these ladies have been through there own personal versions of hell this past year and their friendship is inspiring.

I have a list of action items that I will be tackling slowly.  The truth is on a good day I have about 2.5 uninterrupted hours a day to work and very few days fall into the category of “good days” in that respect, but, I’m going to keep plugging away because I have recommitted to my passion thanks to the Ladies of Blissdom.

Feelin’ the LUV for Southwest Airlines

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Southwest Airlines Green Jet

I was not compensated in any way shape or form for this post.  I am just a satisfied customer. All images © copyright and courtesy of Southwest Airlines.

The snowpocalypse that socked the mid-Atlantic region this weekend impacted at least 3 major airports and snarled air traffic throughout the country. I’m sure there will be many stories of trial and tribulation that come out of this storm.

Mine is not that story. Mine is a story of AWESOME customer service.

I flew to Nashville this weekend for the Blissdom conference. Whenever possible, I fly Southwest Airlines. Due to childcare constraints, there wasn’t a lot of padding on the outbound leg of the trip. This is risky in February, the weather can screw up your plans in the time it takes to say total snow accumulation. Mother nature didn’t disappoint. My outbound flight was delayed, making my connection in Baltmore much tighter than I wanted it to be.

Southwest Airlines Agent Assisting customer.I was able to arrive a the airport early for my departure, but not early enough for one of the earlier itineraries to Nashville. When I checked my bags, I mentioned the tight time frame in BWI. If my flight was ANY later, there was no way I would get out of Baltimore to Nashville Wednesday night. My conference started at 9am sharp on Thursday. The agent’s response? “Let me see what I can do about that.” There was an earlier flight to Baltimore with plenty of room, so she moved me. I had time to spare in Baltimore and that was fine with me.

Come Friday afternoon, the trip home was making me nervous. I was watching the weather with a sinking feeling. My husband had already worked from home Thursday and Friday, and he had an important meeting on Monday. I HAD to be home Sunday night.

I was in conference sessions all day Saturday. I checked in for my flights via the web and the system still showed an on time departure even I knew that wasn’t true. I had plans to call Southwest during one of my breaks. I looked at my phone and saw a missed call from a 214 number. I only know a few people in the Dallas area and I couldn’t imagine why any of them would be calling my cell phone. When I checked the message, is was Southwest calling to tell me the initial leg of my trip had ben canceled. No shock there. A short time later, the phone vibrated and again it was a 214 number. I grabbed it, a pleasant automated voice told me my connecting flight had also been canceled. Then Lady Luv asked me if I wanted to speak to someone to rebook my flights. I briefly considered staying in my session and calling later, but then I thought if they were offering to connect me with someone now, I should grab that brass ring.

I figured, I would be on hold, so I slowly moved to the back of the room. I was wrong. I was immediately connected to Rae and she even had my itinerary right in front of her. Cue scurrying out of the ballroom and speaking in hushed tones. I suggested that if they wanted to route me through Chicago, Midway, I would be ok with that. Nashville, to Manchester, via Midway is a not standard route for Southwest, so Rae had to get approval from customer service. She got approval, but there would be a cost difference and the amount would vary depending on whether I wanted to take the morning flights or the afternoon flights. Wait, whaa? I’m cheap er I mean frugal, I didn’t want to have to pay to change the ticket. So, I asked Rae what was available on my original itinerary. How about departing Nashville Monday morning at 7:35 and arriving in Manchester at 1:35pm? Uh no, THAT wasn’t going to work either. Ok, Rae, get me a price to travel via Chicago. While she checked, I ducked back into my session. I didn’t even have time to hear the one question before Rae was back telling me that customer service had approved a courtesey waiver and there would be no charge! Wahooo!

I LOVE SOUTHWEST AIRLINES!!!

The flight home was utterly uneventful. I was sorry to leave the ladies of Bissdom’10 behind, but I was grateful to get home.

Thanks Southwest.

Finding My Bliss

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Blissdom Conference ~ Nashville ~ February 4-6 2010

I knew I wanted to blog the first time I visited a blog.  Eventually, I knew I had gone as far as a solo event planner as I wanted to and it was time to move towards a career in freelance writing.  I thought I’d start in September of 2009, but it is amazing how much you can’t get done with an active five year old in the house.
So instead, this year is a building year.  Two of the three blogs that I want to write regularly, are up and running in their most basic form.  The third will have to wait awhile until I feel this blog and This New Hampshire Life are getting what they need from me with regards to regular posting and finding their audiences.
This weekend, I am heading to Nashville for The Blissdom Conference.  I attended last year and I’m really looking forward to attending again. The content was just amazing and I had such a good time meeting people. There were over 200 women and the facility was overwhelmed by all the attendees, this year, the organizers stepped things up a notch and we are going to Opryland Y’all!
As a recovering event planner, I completely understand what it takes to pull together an event of this caliber for 500 women.  Hats off to Allison Worthington and Barbara Jones for all their hard work.
I also want to extend my thanks to ConAgra foods and all the other sponsors.  As a family we are not a huge consumer of pre-packaged foods, but a quick peek at the ConAgra web site shows a few brands that inhabit my pantry including Hunts and Pam and Hebrew National (except I keep the hot dogs in the ‘fridge).
I made the switch to Hebrew National a few years back during the Mad Cow scare.  I like that beef is the first item in the ingredients list and water is the second.  With the remaining ingredients taking up less than 2% of the hot dog.  I’m not going to tell you that hot dogs are a healthy food, but in my opinion, Hebrew National is a healthier choice especially when dealing with two picky eaters.
Hebrew National is one of the few premium brands I purchase (we call them tube steaks), but I think in this case it is worth it. Some weeks, my five year old’s only sources of protein are American Cheese and Hebrew National hot dogs. Thanks to ConAgra for the coupon for the free package of hot dogs!
I’m looking forward to the trip as a learning experience, but also as a get away from day to day life. Along with the educational sessions, there are several official parties and many being run along side the conference.  I’m leaving my options open but as it stands now, I am looking forward to some quiet time in between the learning.   I’m looking forward to meeting new people, but and uninterrupted hour with my laptop sounds mighty appealing these days too. I’m also hoping to squeeze in some time to exercise.  That’s a lot to fit into 3 conference days!
Hopefully you’ll see the results of my attendance in this here space in the near future. In the mean time, I need to pack!

Nine

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She’s nine.My nine year old sporting her snazzy new glasses.
Almost ten she reminds me frequently.  Soon to be double digits. Dear God, how did that happen?  A decade?  Really?
There is the constant physical growth.  She’s long and lean and it seems 2 minutes after I buy her new pants or shirts, she’s sporting floods and complaining because her belly button is hanging out.
She’s most definitely a ‘Tween.  I usually hate pop-culture descriptors, but this one is dead on.  She’s not a little girl anymore and she most definitely (and thankfully) is not a teenager.  Yet.
In recent weeks, she has informed me that she no longers wishes to eat from a kids plate, the character dishes kept in the lowest drawer for easy access.  No, she’s ready for the glass plates, that the grown ups use, and no more plastic cups or utensils either.  I am corrected, if forget. She is gentle, but she corrects, none-the-less.
Her room, she informed me, is just a little babyish for her, but she’s personalizing it to meet her needs, so it will be ok for now,  She says this as if to warn me that a redecoration will be necessary in the not too distant future.  I’m not ready to part with the light lavender walls or the border of large pastel flowers.
Last week was perhaps the the coup-de-grais of recent growth and development. An angst ridden conversation about why she can’t stay home alone. She IS nine after all.  Don’t we trust her? Sweet Jesus, her Dad and I are in for a long ride through the teenage years.
The thing is, at nine, she is responsible and the factors that prevent me from even considering the idea of letting her stay by herself for any length of time are external, and completely beyond her control.
First, SHE’S NINE!!!! Responsible or not, she is nine years old and dammit, that is just too young to stay home alone.  I mean there’s DSS to consider.  I don’t know anyone in Social Services, and frankly, I’d like to keep it that way.
Next on my list of reasons why Fish can’t stay home alone is location.  I grew up in suburban Philadelphia the houses were maybe 50 feet apart.  Many in the neighborhood worked, but by the time I was staying home alone, I knew lots of our neighbors (from my days peddling Girl Scout cookies door-to-door) and could have gone to many of them for help if I needed it.
If she’s at home alone and something goes awry, she could run to her grandparents, but there have been and will continue to be large chunks of time when they will be enjoying their retirement in locations nowhere near our home. If they aren’t home, we’re talking a quarter of a mile walk to a neighbors house that we know.  (Why yes, our zip code is EIEIO, thank you very much).
Aside from the foolishly practical reasons, there is the is the sentimental and emotional reason.  I’M not ready for her to stay home alone.  She’s my first and will always be my baby.  I know that I have to let her go.  I know she has to grow up and that she will do so MUCH faster than I am ready for her to do so, but still, SHE’S NINE!!!!
Despite warning me earlier in the evening, that she wanted to be talk to me about staying home alone, I was still unprepared when the conversation occurred.  I tried to reassure her that this wasn’t about trust, that her Dad and I did trust her and that she had been demonstrating tremendous amounts of responsibility, but my statements sounded weak even to me.  I tried to explain that is just wasn’t GAH “appropriate“ for a nine year old to be staying by herself.  I explained that her Dad and I could get in trouble for leaving her home alone. I could see in her eyes, that her innocence and age appropriate naivete didn’t believe me.  I’m secretly glad that she hasn’t had the life experience that will teach her that the world can be cruel, but still I don’t like being at odds with her.  Yes, I know on a logical level that if I’m doing my job right, I’ll be at odds with her frequently during her teens years.
I suggested we talk with her Dad about this.  He’s just better at explaining things that I am.  I’m much more the ”because I said so“ type and I know that doesn’t fly anymore.
At some level I’ve known this was coming.  I’m trying to prepare myself.  I’m reading Queen Bees and Wanna Bees to familiarize myself with Girl World as it exists now, but it is slow going because I just am not ready to go there yet.
The Red Cross offers a class that teaches teens and tweens about staying home safely.  The Recreation Committee has sponsored this class in the past.  I’m optimistic they’ll do it again. She also has the AmerIcan Girl Book about staying home alone.  I think I need to read it so that I can continue this discussion on her terms.
I don’t think I’ll ever really be ready, so I guess it is time to suck it up and plunge in, but, did I mention, SHE’S NINE!!!!

T U B I N G!!!!

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TUBING WAHOOO! YEAH!!
So, we’ve already established that I love the cold weather and the activities that it brings. Recently, we participated in another of my favorites, Snow Tubing.
We headed to Gunstuck for some family fun and adventure. We arrived early on a Sunday and while everyone else was jockeying for position in the lift lines, we made our way over to the tubing area.  There was only a handful of other people.  We took at least 10 runs in the first hour. Sometimes individually, sometimes as a foursome, sometimes racing in pairs. The conditions were awesome. The sun was shining it as just perfect.   I love to hear my kids giggle and scream with joy and excitement as we swoosh our way down the hill.
The staff at Gunstock is great about insuring everyone is safe and having a good time. They are more than enthusiastic about tubing and that adds to the fun. They’ll suggest differnt options and with your permission, they’ll give you a push or spin you around as they start you on your way down.
The second hour brought more people, so our total number of runs during that hour dropped from 10 to 7, but really, that was enough. We were all getting tired and ready for a break.
Gunstock sells tubing tickets for $16 for a two hour block (discounts are available for bulk purchases) and they limit the number of tickets sold for safety and enjoyment. According to their web site mid-days and Saturday nights are their busiest times. There also are height restrictions, so if you are thinking of going with small children, make sure you know the requirements beforehand.
When I awoke Sunday morning, I seriously considered staying in bed and going tubing later, I’m really glad we got their early and had more runs when both the slopes and us we fresh.
The colder the temperatures, the faster the runs, so if you are taking a less adventureous child consider going early afternoon on a slightly warmer day. Also, dress in layers because you may not think it looks as acitve as skiing, or boarding, but you can work up a sweat.
Here is a list of other restorts that offer snow tubing around the state. Have you been to any of these?  I’d like to hear your feedback.