Monthly Archives: July 2011

Next week is a big week. I’ll be speaking at Women Create Media and then scooting on over to BlogHer.

I attened a BlogHer conference two years ago in Chicago, skipped New York in August 2010 (if you’re from NY you have to admit there’s no good reason to go there in August) and now I’m ready to give it another try in 2011.

Here are five things I will not be doing for BlogHer.

1. I will not be out after 10pm. I am not happy after 9pm and nothing is happening at parties after 10pm. Well, something is happening. People are drinking and enjoying themselves, but I’m off to BlogHer to connect with bloggers who I’m dying to meet, and to connect with marketers who I’m sure won’t be wasted in a hotel suite in the middle of the night. I plan on moderation and a good night’s sleep.

2. I will not be doing my hair or nails for the occasion. Take me as I am.  I’m a blogger who has shared her life with you. If my lack of a recent mani-pedi turns you off then it’s your issue, not mine. It’s not a beauty contest or a fashion show. It’s just a lot of women in one place. I don’t plan on smelling bad, I’m just not looking for a date so I’m going to make myself comfortable.

3. I will not be giving my business card to bloggers. If you want to reach me I’m at Jessica@JessicaGottlieb.com, you can call me at 818.486.9363 or you can text that number, either is fine, on twitter I’m @JessicaGottlieb and I’m on Google + as well. You don’t need my business card, you’ll just throw it out.

4. I will not be judging you unkindly. It’s no secret, I’m a judgy lady. I’ve got to figure out who I like and who I don’t like.  So when you have the nerve to show up to something as admittedly intimidating as BlogHer and you’re kind enough to introduce yourself and smile the judging is over. I already know I like you. Case closed.

5. Private Parties? Yes, there are quite a few of them. I was invited to some, and I’ll never be invited to others (Nikon… you never invite me… but since you don’t give away free cameras I don’t feel that bad). I’m pretty sure the private parties will be pretty good, but I’d also probably NOT attend without my own car or cab fare. 45 minutes at any party is plenty for me. If it’s super loud and we can’t hear each other anyhow why am I there?

I love meeting folks who I’ve only followed online. BlogHer is going to have 3,000 attendees this year and each of those 3,000 people only cares about him/herself so the good news is that you can come as you are and most of them will be too busy with their own insecurities to worry about yours.

Although a conference by and for women can be affirming, it’s also not particularly realistic or helpful. As much as I love supporting women in business it’s a little foolish to think that you can keep the boys out and have great success, though I know folks would argue that the boys work pretty hard at keeping the girls out. BlogHer will be fun, if you decide it will.

Here’s a snapshot of the business card I won’t be handing you.

One reason I’ve come to dislike BlogHer so much is that it signals the end of summer. I don’t like this at all.

Dear Sweet Alexander,

Ten years ago I was terrified that I didn’t have enough love to go around. I was so afraid of becoming your mother that I thought I’d have to love Jane less in order to love you more.

I was so very wrong. In your first minutes of life you taught us all that we were a family. You see before you came on the scene Daddy and I were a couple with a kid. You were our glue. You grounded us and made us a family. Three of us shared love for you, three of us were nervous that we wouldn’t quite  be enough but we loved you with our whole hearts from the moment you first appeared. You taught a lot of people about love Alexander. You were powerful in your first few minutes.

Tomorrow you’ll be ten. You’re my baby and there will be no more babies in this house after you.

I love your brain. I love when you take complex equations and narrow them down to their essence. I love being able to share science with you and have you understand it with minimal explanation. I love watching you solve problems. I’ve never told you that you’re smarter than other people. I think you probably know that, and I hope you will never be arrogant.

One of your best assets is your tenacity. It’s not easy to hit a baseball at 50 MPH, and it’s certainly not easy when you’re only looking out of one eye. I’m so proud of you for working extra hard at it so that you can get the job done. I’m thrilled that you’re starting vision therapy and that you are the one who wants to do the work. It’s good to be smart, Alexander, but it’s great to be a hard worker.

Every time you say “please”, “thank you” and “bless you” my heart soars. The world will treat you kindly when you have good manners. I know it’s not easy holding doors open, but you’re a boy, and soon you’ll be a man and it’s important to me that you are a gentleman.

Sometimes you ask me questions I can’t answer and we find the answers together. Your curiosity coupled with intelligence is what will change the world. Please remember, my son, that it’s more important to be good than it is to be first.

When you laugh I feel like I might burst, it’s like the sun shines ten times brighter and the joy is bouncing off of us all. I can’t imagine any joy greater than being your mother.

Someday Alexander you will have  a second child, and you’ll learn that a parent’s heart is built to grow.

Love,
Mom

This morning when I went to wake Jane Sparky was curled up her bed. Sparky does not sleep with Jane, and we know that the last time Sparky slept with Jane there was not a happy ending to the story.

This morning was no exception. Although Jane’s sheets are lime green with white and green, there are no flecks of black. The flecks of black you see on the bedsheets are actually feathers. And the red? Well, I’m assuming it’s blood, but since we didn’t find a bird body to go with the wings the evidence against the homicidal manic is strictly circumstantial.

I was so excited when a bird settled in on my kitchen window. I thought it was a good omen. The only one who got lucky was Sparky.

Sparky’s kill list is long.

Last Wednesday night Sparky slept on Jane’s bed. This is odd, because Sparky never goes into Jane’s room, she sleeps with Alexander. By way of explanation Jane’s bedroom is the first bedroom you’d encounter after walking upstairs.

Jane then slept out on Thursday and Friday nights. As is our habit we close her bedroom door when she’s not home. It makes us miss our kids less. On Thursday morning I grabbed something from her room and realized it stank like soccer gear. Shin guards can be horrendous. I texted her, “I hope you’re having fun, but your bedroom smells like something died in it.” and then I closed the door.

On Friday morning the window washers came. They were here to wash all the windows except the one with the bird nest on in. You can see how well that turned out. I went upstairs with them and opened the door to Jane’s bedroom.

It was not the smell of shin-guards. Sparky darted into the room, went under the bed and started purring louder than a jet engine. She was puffed up and delighted with herself.

The other thing that was puffed up in the room was the rat. The dead bloated rat that Sparky had put under Jane’s bed.

Fast forward a few tears, double plastic bags, carpet cleaning and a $50 tip to the window cleaner who brought the dead animal to the trash can.

This weekend I talked to my kids about drug addiction. They don’t really know Amy Winehouse, and they aren’t exposed to the news that she passed. Not at home anyhow. I can’t control what they discuss at camp.

I posted this on Twitter when I heard about Winehouse’s passing a few days ago.

More than one person commented to me that they’ve told their kids that drugs are always bad. Unless you’re living in a Mormon enclave this probably isn’t the best teaching method.

Our kids watch us have a drink, they watch us take an occasional ambien, sip an energy drink or nibble a painkiller. Most of us aren’t drug addicts, most of us will never have a drug problem we do medicate here and there.

Telling our children to never drink is foolish. Telling our children we hope they won’t drink until they are of legal age is fair. Asking them to never drink and drive is reasonable.

Teaching our children that drugs are bad is a good beginning to the discussion. Teaching our children that drug abuse is fatal is probably more realistic.

I’m not worried about my 12 year old being offered crack, it’s simply not the norm for kids to start there. It is the norm for kids to drink a beer, smoke a little pot or experiment with pills. These aren’t scary drugs to them because they’re totally acceptable at the age of 21 (or at about 8 depending on the pills… ritalin anyone?).

Talking to kids, and listening to their questions (and the subtext) is what we’re doing. All of us who came of age in the era of Nancy Reagan and “just say no” realize that telling kids that drugs are bad isn’t the beginning middle and end of the discussion.

It’s got to be reasonable or they’ll know we’re fools.

People ask me about my Rheumatoid Arthritis. Most days I smile and say something to make them feel better, because really that’s why they’re asking.

I went from 60 to zero in a matter of days. I went from running, loping really, long distances to needing naps twice daily and being unable to uncurl my hands. I was fit and trim, and then inactivity and medicines left me bloated and queasy. The uncontrollable parts of it all makes me uncomfortable, and I sense it does the same for the people around me.

I’m almost back to being me. I’m a little stiff in the mornings, and I can’t exercise for more than two hours. I’d like to play a proper tennis match, but if I stop exercise after 90 minutes I seldom ache in my joints, when I pass 90 minutes my hands, hips, knees and ankles ache for 24 hours. I’m confident that this will change and I will return to proper tennis.

The Simponi saved my life. It didn’t cure me of Rheumatoid Arthritis, yet, but the results have been so fabulous that if this is as good as it gets I’m really happy. I’m still taking hydroxychloroquine and we may add back the methotrexeate or some other chemo, but for now the two medicines seem to be knocking things out nicely.

I exercise every day. I exercise partly because I’m a person that needs to move and it makes me happy, and partly because it’s an important part of living with Arthritis. I don’t take my motion for granted as I once did, and I’ve added yoga back into the mix. I also spend at least 30 minutes every afternoon floating in the pool. The absence of gravity is wonderful.

When it was clear that I had RA I felt my world crashing in on me. I thought it was the end of everything. Now it’s just a bump in the road.