Entries Tagged 'dreams' ↓

Flashback to the summer of 1994, I went to pick up the schedule for my senior year only to discover the front office had it mis-filed. It wasn’t really their fault, I had skipped my junior year and with thousands of kids in a school, how high should our expectations be? After a stressful couple of hours everything was straightened out and I was placed in the right homeroom and given appropriate senior privileges.

Ever since then, before every major milestone I am plagued with dreams of having to go back and retake my senior year.

The end of the book is in sight, just a few more chapters and I’ll be working on rewrites and edits. Naturally I am spending my nights trying to find my locker, trying to make the kids behave as I take notes, and wondering why we look so old.

When I was a little girl, I used to think that becoming an adult meant the voice in my head would change. I must have read too many coming of age novels, where the phenomenon was stark, always a before and an after. I assumed the essence would change.

Sure the voice is a little wiser, can grok bigger concepts, and has a little more patience and courage, but the old one lurks just underneath.

I don’t talk about Aidan’s education much. We are using the state funded k12 program; it’s a home-based charter school that gives us an amazing amount of flexibility with our schedules. This morning I was reading BuzzMachine, a blog by Jeff Jarvis, when I came upon this statement in TedxNYed: This is Bullshit:

We must stop looking at education as a product – in which we turn out every student giving the same answer – to a process, in which every student looks for new answers. Life is a beta.

I can’t begin to wrap my mind around the idea of the amount of information at my fingertips.  What I’m doing at Home Ec 101 isn’t creating information, it’s simply listening to the questions people are asking and distilling the information into a form some people find more palatable.

Do I know what the kids will end up doing or being?

No.

I want to teach them to find the information they need, to vet it, process it, and perhaps share it in a new form.

My stepdaughter went to her first formal, she had no idea her dad would be in town to see her before she left. Oh yeah, he knows it all starts now.

Whether it’s a simple blogger meet up over a burger and a meal or a conference, I always have high hopes of coming home and shutting myself away for a few moments to explain the impact these moments have on my life. The funny thing is, that those moments are all I get. I’m in the middle of the busy years and someday I may be able to recap things, but right now to steal any more time away has a cost I’m not willing to pay. At this moment I have a few moments before the Benadryl kicks in (thank you springtime) and the kids are in bed. These years are finite and I’m aware that I should be greatful for the the freedoms I do have. As an introvert, these events are fulfilling, but exhausting. As a parent, I’m required to play an extrovert, even on those days I have the urge to spend tucked away in solitude.

I want to explain why I love hanging out with Tee Morris, but really all I’ll be able to say is a total fangirl “SQUEE!” Today I met authors and got a realistic look into what to expect if I ever go forward with my hopes of being published. I don’t have aspirations of being famous, but I would like to be validated. I met a lady whose books I will buy the next time I can justify a splurge at Barnes and Noble or on Amazon. I think I have a new author, Tiffany Trent, I can share with my stepdauther 

Today, I spent time in geek heaven. There was talk of memes, cultural revolutions, trending, early adopters, and social media douchebags: all of these are key words, words that let me know I don’t have to explain every obscure reference that may come out of  my mouth. I was able to get excited and talk about things that matter to me, transparency, online presence, honesty and authority and no one gave a verbal headpat.

I’m greedy because I want more. 

I hope what I take from today is the encouragement that comes from mingling with peers and use it to define and make progress toward a goal, whatever it is.

Before I turn in, I want to thank all of those who took the time to drive up to Myrtle Beach to be a part of CREATE South, but I would especially like to thank Greg Pittman, Chris Gallagher, Dan Tennant, Jared Smith, Chuck Boyd, and Raymond Owens for participating in the Community track of the conference.

Sometimes you don’t need words to tell the story. To think, this is only the beginning.

Seven kids, seven days. Tim’s cousins were in town and we were glad to have them. Even though the kids were good, that was exhausting. It’s the constant movement and the noise that wears me down. I’d like to crawl into bed for two days with some good books and bad TV, but I don’t think it’s an option.

Several weeks ago, Mark threw a cup of water and destroyed my laptop. I have been slowly learning how much a person depends on saved passwords and email address. It’s been a rude awakening from which I am recovering. If I was supposed to respond to an email, please resend it. I believe I have caught up on everything, but it’s hard to tell.

Always back up your address book. Always.

I miss my photo-editing software.

I have agreed to head up the building community track for this year’s CREATE South. I’ll be filling 3.5 hours with presentations, at the moment I believe I’m leaning toward three individual presentations of 30 – 45 minutes and one panel. This could change depending on my success or failure with securing speakers.

I have returned to the gym. I have also joined an online group of ladies whose goal is to lose 15lbs by June. 15lbs would put me right at my target weight, but as I do lift weights that is not a hard number. I need to figure out my BMI so I have a concrete target, but there is effort involved and do I really need to go there? I plan on entering at least a 5k in April and I am considering the Cooper River Bridge Run. My last two runs have been fairly decent 3.5 and 3.65 miles in 45 minutes. However, I still hate running, but I’m starting to hate days I don’t run a little more.

Are my kids the only ones who seem to go through periods of extreme klutziness? We have not scheduled family portraits, so I cannot figure out the cause. The 5yo has rug burns on his forehead and nose, very attractive I might add. The baby tipped over on the tricycle skinning her upper lip and forehead. Then yesterday she wiped out and hit the bottom rung of a chair splitting her lower lip and bruising her gums. It breaks my heart to look at her right now.

Home Ec 101 will be mentioned in the May issue of Woman’s Day. I can’t begin to say how much this excites me. Don D. Lewis will be here on Tuesday to begin shooting video for the site.  I’ll be starting with basic knife skills am I’m thankful to know Don well enough to know he won’t hate me for being nervous and flubbing takes.

I did not get the job, but my resume is polished and will soon be posted on HeatherSolos.com, well, as soon as I get around to loading a platform.

I’ve been researching marketing while I try to figure out how to expand the reach of Home Ec 101 without throwing away cash.  Social media is extremely useful and as I watch our numbers grow, I think we are doing at least a few things correctly.  Ivy and I are patient, so we can deal with building readership in a slow and steady manner.

What baffles me are the plethora of self described social media marketers, SEO specialists.  There are probably thousands of these sites I have wandered across all with the same content, just small variances in tone and word arrangement.  It feels like the Amway of the Intertubes.  What I have yet to figure out is exactly what these people are selling.  Through the noise certain words pop up over and over contacts, client lists, expand your customer base.  Yet, I never see exactly what it is these people are selling.

Additionally whose idea was it to sell these crappy e-books?  I haven’t bought one, I’m just assuming from the general level of the associated blogs that the e-books contents are along the same lines.   (There may be some good ones out there, I just see no reason to buy an ebook on say drinking water daily for $7)

These people are definitely enthusiastic and excited, I just have yet to figure out what it is all about.

All of this said, we’re plodding along, trying to build a resource people will enjoy and return to not only for Home Ec questions but for interaction with others struggling along the same path.

Oh and I have to boast a little.  We launched just over 10 months ago and other than hosting, some art, and of course our fantabulous t-shirts, we haven’t spent anything. I’m sure if we hired professionals it’d have been less stressful, but I truly love what we are doing. Slowly we are finding our way and as we go, we’re meeting a lot of people.   I’m excited about ’08, there will be conventions, both in April and October.  It’s going to be a lot of fun.

We hit 100k visits on New Year’s Day.  Hopefully it’s just a sign of things to come.

I have always been prone to nightmares; I wake up covered in sweat, heart pounding, unable to move nor speak. These dreams come in cycles sometimes a year or two will pass without a visit from the Old Hag, but when life has its way with me, she’ll pay a call.

This pregnancy, aside from a few lingering symptoms, still seems unreal. After struggling with infertility with our first and fearing the same with our second, it did not seem possible to suddenly find myself pregnant, but that is where we stand. Fourteen weeks in and my dreams have yet to come to terms.

Several nights ago I found myself in Publix wearing a paper gown. I was sitting on a gurney in the canned vegetable aisle under the fluorescent light. I sat there waiting for my doctor, studying my hands, wishing for something to read, and just hoping for the appointment to be over. My doctor appeared; she pulled up a stool, looked at a chart while shaking her head, “I’m sorry” she said.

“What do you mean?” I asked, not really wanting to know.

“You’ve lost the pregnancy and failed to miscarry. The baby has been dead for weeks,” she looked at me sadly and wandered away, leaving me holding an ultrasound picture of an unrecognizable blob.

I shouted after her, “But we saw the heartbeat!” She was gone and I was sitting by the canned peas in my socks, as my neighbors filled their carts. I looked for my clothes, but they were gone. Carrying the picture and fighting back tears I began to walk to the front of the store.

“Miss! Miss!” a woman standing by an operating table gestured wildly at me, “You have to come over here.”

I told her I wanted to go home, sobbed that I couldn’t find my clothes or my keys. She grabbed me by the arm and ushered me to the table. I was too weak and heartbroken to fight as she strapped me down. People I barely knew walked by staring with pity in their eyes as a machine hummed and a metal bowl on the floor was filled with what had once been my child.

I awoke fighting my blankets, still hearing the machine, and begging her to stop.