Mom 2.0 Summit: Insight and Inspiration

Mom 2.0 Summit brings together a variety of moms, dads, bloggers, brands and social media experts.

This was my very first blog conference.  I had no idea what to expect.  I was open and willing to learn everything and anything that it had to offer.

Needless to say, I was blown away.

The first event was the White Party.  Attendees and brands networked and got to meet one another.  The crowd was lively and we all had a fabulous time.

Of course being in Miami, it was Mojito central!!

I die for baby toes! 

These cute little toes belong to Jane Maynard's of Daily Buzz Moms baby! 

Image via Mi Caminar

White Party at The Ritz-Carlton

I got a whole lot from this conference, probably more than I bargained for.

Here's my under $50 outfit for day 1 of the conference.
All except for the shoes are from Goodwill!

Top: Loft- $3

Necklace: Vintage-$8

Skirt: No brand-$4

Shoes: Zappos $30

Lunch and Dessert was sponsored by Aldi on Friday.

At one point during the conference I felt a bit overwhelmed.  I was worried that a slight little panic was going to rise in me.

It was not because of the amount of people, rather more because of the amazing speakers and breakout sessions.  The breakout sessions were individual blocks sectioned off for the attendees to get more out of the conference, i.e,. 'improving your blog through social media', 'discovering the right direction for you' or 'standing in the spotlight', just to name some.  

Note to self:  A tab bit of over excitement can bring on a migraine.  Just remember that.   

The highlight of the event for me was listening to the amazing Brené Brown speak. 

WOW.

Amazed.

Inspired.

Moved.

Brené brought pure heart to the entire conference.  Her words were uplifting and her spirit was exactly where she puts her message into—Compassion.  

"We have to normalize discomfort"-Brené Brown

 I was thrilled to personally meet and have her sign one of her books for me.  It was awesome.

"Tell the story of who you are with your whole heart"- Brené Brown

If you want to hear more from Brené, watch her Ted Talk here. 

It was also very exciting to meet some top bloggers that I read and follow.  I also met the editors of the site I contribute to, ShePosts.

I mentioned to one of them that while social media is an amazing platform, nothing can beat the face-to-face connection that's made when you meet someone.  There is a void that's filled.

I'm all for social media but I also know how important it is to connect face-to-face with people.
Just grateful I was able to do this... 

Kristen Howerton, editor of ShePosts and author of Rage Against the Minivan. 

That's us at the Versace Mansion Party! 

What I learned from Kristen? Write what you're passionate about even if it's controversial. 

Gabrielle Blair of Design Mom 

I briefly met Gabrielle while she was trying to eat.  I kindly asked her to pause for a photo.  

She was generous and sweet. 

What I learned from Gabrielle? Take risks! 

She and her husband and six children moved to France almost on a whim and they love it! 

I admire this spontaneity... 

Cecily Kellogg of Uppercase Woman and Babble's Mom Crunch 

was my bus ride buddy to the Versace Mansion.  

Don't you just love her bold pink hair?! It was great to chat with her.  

Made some West coast buddies! Alexis Gentry (middle-from Seattle) of Design Sundries

and Cathy Pollak (wine maker from Oregon) of Noble Pig

Another big plus for me was meeting and connecting with local Miami mom bloggers! 

Alexis (far left) of The Exhausted Mom and 

Caroline (on the right side of me) of Smarty Pants Mama

Both amazing women! 

Simply thrilled to have met all of these awesome mamas... 

I'm still feeling the effects of the positive energy and inspiration I got from the Mom 2.0 Summit.  

The fact that I went and made such incredible connections reminds me that we're all striving to inspire the many that come to our blogs, read us, follow us, comment and share the love. 

If you blog, continue.

If you comment, continue.

If you read, continue.

If you have a passion, continue.

Nothing can stop you from achieving your dreams... 

So. Worth. It.

My girl, one day...

My girl, she carries her little heart on her sleeve.

One day, she'll carry her heart to her first love.

My girl, she illustrates her emotions with fine lines and colored pencils.

One day, she'll sketch a drawing for her lover with oil pastels.

My girl, she feels deep empathy for those in need.

One day, she'll hold her hand out to help the elderly.

My girl, she speaks truth and her voice echos like a symphony.

One day, she'll stand before crowds of people and inspire peace and love.

My girl, she can gather the authentic nature of individuals.

One day, she'll embrace those that share a common love with her.

My girl, she is my mirror and my teacher.

One day, she'll learn what I have learned from being her mother,
  

and she'll see the wonder that she cultivated in me...

Scribble me down...

The keys I strike.  Photo credit: Hubby (EJ)

Right here, in this space and section of this vast world wide web, I scribble.  My thoughts, my dreams, my fears and joys are scribbled.  I scribble my life in bits and pieces because bits and pieces of my life is what makes up my living kaleidoscope.  Shards of hope and love and dreams.  A collage of colors, emotions, tears, breaths, beats, giggles and smiles make up the tiny and enormous parts of my world.  I scribble the mundane moments in motherhood and the moments I'd like to sometimes forget.  I've scribbled myself to sanity and calmness and bravery.  I scribble because I CAN, because I NEED to and because it's a driving force that bewilders and frightens me.

I don't know whose really 'reading' or feeling along with me at any given moment.  I know that each time I scribble, I'm resting my heart on my sleeve when I share my stories and fears and possible side effects of my encumbered emotions.  I don't know what I'm doing half of the time because I'm perplexed about feeling too deeply, too much or too hard.  But I continue to do it.

I get scared and recoil because this is what happens when 'fear' and 'doubt' peer their snares at me and gloat about creeping into my thoughts.

Then I return and become brave again and strike their snares and gloats down with each key and each sentence I complete.  I return to a place of solace and comfort in this small but far reaching space because I know that someone is bound to 'listen' and feel and engage along with me.  No matter how many times 'fear' and 'doubt' sneak up on me, they will never scribble me down because only I can scribble them away.

Because it heals me...

Tonight, while I changed the sheets on my daughters' bunk beds I couldn't help but remember moments of my turbulent childhood.

I was mindful of how I tucked the fitted sheets on their mattresses because while I did so, I vicariously tended to the bed I would have slept in as a little girl and added the attention I needed...

It healed me.

I was mindful when I spread out the wrinkles on their flat sheets so that they may sleep comfortably because my childhood sheets were often tangled up from my having to wrap myself up so tightly like a burrito to secure the safety of my little body...

It healed me.

I was mindful in making sure that their little pink glowing night light was plugged in and working properly so that they may not fear any 'imaginary' shadows even though the one 'real' shadow that lurked in my childhood bedroom was not scared away by pink night lights...

It healed me.

I was mindful in adorning their beds with their favorite stuffed animals and decorative pillows I sewed for them because my childhood bed was absent of dolls or anything dedicated to me by my mother...

It healed me.

I was mindful in re-taping the pictures they had put up on their walls of their daddy and I and others of themselves with their sisters because my childhood room never reflected any images of a memorable moment captured by the click of a shutter...

It healed me.

I was mindful in reminding myself that this life I chose, this life I've created, this life I am living and these daughters I am raising and loving and proud to call myself their Mama IS what heals me.

They heal my sorrow.  They heal my pain.  They heal the neglect.  They heal the absence.  They heal my fear.  They heal my heart and soul and mere existence.

I partake in all the mundane, all the wondrous, all the exciting and draining and joy and love and disappointment and anger and beauty and sadness and all the other things in between mothering my three incredibly inspiring daughters...

Because THEY heal me...

**I'm proud to announce that this post is syndicated on BlogHer**

Ode to my little band-aid

My three year old daughter is obsessed with Band-aids! 
She 'needs' one for just about every mundane thing that happens to her.  
I even find them on her furniture because it got a 'boo-boo'.  
It's quite cute but she's breaking my band-aid bank! 
What is it with toddlers and band-aids?! 


I was inspired to write a little 'Ode', you know, in celebration of her little obsession.  Enjoy! 


♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥


O little band-aid, what would I be without you?

I tear you apart but you stick to me or even my shoe.

Mama complains about your super sticky glue.

I just think it's so untrue.

O little band-aid you're still the one I turn to... 

especially when I have the flu.

O little band-aid thank you! I'll always be your stickiest fan!

Oh! and I love that you come in a variety of 

my favorite characters that look great on my hand. 

You're never bland but always grand. 

O little band-aid you make a stand!  Without you, I'd simply fall apart.

I thank you little band-aid from the bottom of my heart.

You've taught me to appreciate fine art... 

a poem...

March 2003: Pre-wedding photo

(for EJ)

Only if...
If you were yarn, I'd weave you into a beautiful scarf and then you'd always keep me warm...

If you were a button, I'd sew you to my favorite blouse and then you'd always keep me from falling apart...

If you were shoelaces, I'd thread you into my toughest sneakers and then you'd always keep me grounded...

If you were reading glasses, I'd wear you even if I didn't need to and then you'd always help me to see things for what they are...

If you were a linen cloth, I'd fold you neatly, tuck you into my purse and take you out in moments of joy or sadness because then you'd always dry my tears...

If you were a gentle breeze, I'd stand outside and wait for you to caress my cheek, like a wisp of hair and then you'd always remind me of the simple yet beautiful things in life...

If you were a rain droplet, I'd hold my hand out and allow you to fall into my open palm and then you'd always know that I too could catch you when you fall...

If you were a fallen leaf, I'd gently pick you up off the ground, tuck you into my favorite novel and then every time I'd open that book, you'd allow me to remember that you were once a beautiful, vibrant and living treasure...

If there were one thing that I no longer had to wish for, it would be to wish for you... because you see, you are all of my dreams, desires, joys and all the mundane in between...I love you more and more each day...

vj
2.4.11

(poem to my husband...)

March 2003

Pitch & {Wait}

My writing tools...good ole' cup'o coffee missing

When I was in graduate school pursuing my MFA in Creative Writing, the last thing on my mind was one day getting 'published', seriously.  My focus was simply to learn the craft of writing and honing my skills (or lack thereof).  My passion lies in expressing myself (duh!).  I discovered my passion for poetry and chiseled out the 'writer from within' during my three year study.  And yes, I pursued a Master's degree with two toddlers and, at the time, one more baby on the way.  And yes, I was NUTS...  Luckily, I had an incredible fan cheering me on, my darling husband.  Thank you babe, I love you so much! 

Before all that had taken place, it took me a while to realize that 'writing' was something I wanted to actually do as a career.  Of course, I knew that it entailed the possibility of never ever being acknowledged or even noticed in the world but I didn't care.  My reasons were not 'ego' centered.  The fact that I felt that I had a 'voice' worth sharing with whomever wanted to listen (even if it was just me or a handful of loved ones) was good enough for me.  So my studies came and went.  I wrote a novel as my Master's Thesis and that was that.  

My Thesis

Six months after I graduated, I mustered up the courage (yes, courage because you need it when you put yourself out there, vulnerable, scared and doubting yourself 'all the time') and I strung a small article together.  I had been lurking and reading a few of my favorite parenting websites for a while, you know, getting a feel for their audience's taste and their particular 'voice' style.

I wrote a short and humorous article about kiddie parties and I how I felt about them (somewhat). 

When I wrote it, it felt easier for me to come across as a parent who was completely 'over' the entire party thing.  Bear in mind that I LOVE parties and I always try to think of new ways to celebrate my girls' birthday celebrations as uniquely as possible.  It was a fun project for me, nevertheless.  

I took a leap of 'I have no idea what I'm doing but here I go' and I pitched my very first parenting article.

I took a deep breath.

I bit my lower lip and squinted my face and....

I clicked send.

Then I closed my computer.

And I never thought about it again.

Until...

Three weeks later I received a very short email from one of the Babble editors.  Waaaaaaa??!!!!!  I was in total disbelief! Seriously, I was giddy that someone had actually responded to my FIRST PITCH!

*A complete RARE occurrence* (from what I've been told in the writing world).  

After several e-mails back and forth and finally a contract, I landed my first published article with Babble.

I love their site and their content is informative, entertaining and inspiring among other things.  

Of course, I always like to pay respect to those that took some credit in helping me meld my ideas together through an online course.  I'd like to thank Mediabistro for offering a 'Writing about Parenting' course with author, Christine Coppa.  Thank you Christine for your input, advice and chats.  You rock! 

I look forward to continuing to pitch ideas and articles to my favorite parenting sites and/or mags and I'll take the rejections with grace and learn from each and every one of them.  I'll keep my eyes plugged onto my lap top screen reading away while thoughts prance through my head, as well as, my fingers clacking away at the big and small ideas that infiltrate my mind.  The one thing I can only hope to accomplish from all of this one day is to join one of their teams as a 'paid' fellow mom blogger (a mama can dream can't she?!)  

Until then, I'll continue to string my words together to form content 'worth reading' and pitch and wait... because 'good things come to those who wait' and because I have a great big fan rooting me on, no matter the outcome...my darling hubby...you are my hero...thank you, my love...

If I were a {crayon}

image via 'mental floss'

The girls decided that my husband and I should dress up as Crayola Crayons for Halloween.  They thought it would be funny (and cool) so we inevitably obliged their request.  I wanted to pick my own colored crayon costume but the girls had their own ideas about this as well.  Ultimately, they picked 'Tickled Pink' (which definitely was not my first choice).

So this whole 'crayon' thing got me thinking...Hmmm...if I were a crayon, what color would I be?

I thought about it for about one minute.  At first, I was between colors but then, it came to me.

Orange.

Orange is the color I would be if I were a crayon.

Not 'Burnt Orange' or 'Mango Tango' or 'Outrageously Orange'

No, just Orange.

Why orange?


According to how I view myself is how I came to my conclusion:

Orange is a warm color.  It reminds me of the sun and it's powerful properties.  It's positively enthusiastic, bravely bold and contemplatively creative.  (It's no wonder I choose the color orange for my creative space in my home).  Orange is curious and thoughtful and makes it's mark where ever it's splashed, brushed on, held, worn or admired.  Orange stimulates the appetite both for food and learning.  It holds a spiritual connection as it is a holy color in India and Nepal.  It is powerful and at the same token it can be gentle when it's shades are toned down.  An earthy shade that is seen and vibrant in Autumn.

Orange is stunning and unforgettable...(perhaps it's why prisoners wear it, you know, for the psychological effects of it).

I love the color orange and I also believe that it loves me.  

letter to {my little cup of} coffee

Image via equitycoffee.com

Dear little cup of coffee,

Remember me?  We met just a couple of years ago because up until that time, I was reluctant to savoring you.  I was more of a green tea type of gal but then I gave you a shot (wink).  I hope you're doing swell.  I do remember learning to make you in the espresso style when I was about nine years old and I recall you always smelling marvelous.  After trying the many varieties you come in whether you were freshly ground from Ecuador or pre-packaged in an air tight container, I learned to appreciate you, admire you, need you and want you more and more.  You and me became an obsession, an affair of sorts.  You've warmed my chilly late evenings and jolt me awake on those slow ass mornings.

Now I've discovered you in a perfect little single serve package offered up by one of your biggest fans.  Thank you Starbucks for sharing the ingenious serving!

I started mixing you up with some exotic vanilla bean coconut milk and this made you even more exciting but I never let her overpower you too much because you're too good for that! Plus I'd never let you reach your expiration date because that would mean that you've cheated on me.  None of that silliness happening between you and I.  You are such a loyal companion and I a loyal drinker to you my savory and extra bold coffee.  I know you'll never let me down (wink).  Your commitment to keeping me up at night is more than I can ever ask for.  When I need you, you're there.  When I've had enough of you, you patiently wait to be re-heated.  When I've abandoned you for some days, you always pick up right where you left off once I have you again.  You are the perfect dose to my day, the wide eye keeper to my nights and my overall get my ass moving addictive liquid with a questionable dose of delicious.

So here's to you, my lovely little cup of coffee.  Thank you for your continued commitment to this Mama that would be lost and sleepy.  She'd be groggy and could potentially become a head spinning ogre without you.  Yeah, she's got her spongy little offspring to thank for her scrambled little head.  But hey, at least she's got extra bold French you to hold in her hand and sip as she pleases ♥  

P.S.
I floss and have a kick ass electric tooth brush so you won't be seeing any coffee stains up in these pearly whites :)