Confirmed

I have a confession to make.

Over the last several weeks I have felt deeply ambivalent about my plans to attend the BlogHer conference in Chicago this year.

When I bought a ticket three months ago I had no idea that the dates would fall right in the middle of the time we are embarking on a major move into a new home. And that they would fall during a week when my husband expects to be back working 14-hour days. And that they would fall just before the week Graham's babysitter has booked holidays.

We have so much going on during that time period, that the last few weeks I started to think that the logistics of actually skipping out to Chicago in the middle of it all was just an impossible indulgence.

And so this past weekend, despite the fact that I had already made plans to car pool with a great bunch of Toronto bloggers and room with this lovely lady, I started to seriously think about just selling the ticket and taking care of the mountain of business I face here at home.

Then I got an e-mail yesterday...

So...umm...yeah...I guess I'm going.

And...umm...I guess I'm going to read a commentary post in front of about...gulp...1,000 people at the Community Keynote.

Hold me?

Privacy? Schmivacy.

My name is Kelly.

My husband is Rob and we have a son named Graham. We live in the Toronto neighborhood of Don Mills. He is a sound recordist and mixer for television and feature films and I work in communications in the same industry.

I could go on. I have gone on. You can read through my archives and check out a movie I produced, figure out where I grew up and went to high school. Where I used to live. You can read about my mom and dad and his faithful dog and even where I like to vacation.

And that doesn't scare me.

There was a very popular seminar on mommy blogging and public parenting and privacy at BlogHer last weekend and I wasn't there. I didn't go because I'm not interested in that debate. I refuse to wring my hands or gnash my teeth. I get that some people are deeply conflicted about exposing themselves on the Internet and I do, truly do, empathize with them.

But I'm sorted. I'm good. And I'll tell you why.

I am a writer - a writer with a fairly extensive background in reporting and writing for newspapers and I bring this up again not to make myself feel important (okay, maybe just a little) but because it is relevant.

In the lifestyle section of every newspaper in every community across much of the world, columnists publish under by-lines with their real names. Their photo is often featured and they routinely write in first person and reference their families.

We have columnists in Toronto who I feel I know personally and I'm quite sure that's their intention: that's their job and several of them have been doing it for many, many years.

And that's what I do here. I build relationships with my readers by writing about the beauty and poignancy of family life. And I reject the notion that because I do it on the Internet I am somehow more careless and tawdry than those who do it in my local paper. (I'm probably actually safer because only a tiny fraction of my readers are within striking distance of me and my family were they so inclined).

I find it endlessly ironic that I was lambasted for "pimping" out my child in Canada's national newspaper when that same paper often proudly features a sexy, young columnist and single mom who routinely discusses parenting as well as her sex life and personal relationships in far more detail than I ever have. (Read my response here).

Repeat after me: this is not a diary.

It is a column. A lifestyle column, featuring a working mom named Kelly, her husband Rob and a beautiful boy named Graham.

I hope you will continue to enjoy it and if you're ever in Don Mills? Do look me up.

The party's over...

And this is the last time I shall post pictures documenting the revelry, I swear.

I shall commence shortly with issue-oriented posts born of BlogHer panels. I shall weave in some of the highlights and the revelations and I shall entertain and incite you, I promise.

But I do have a few more party pictures and just to placate you and to thank you for your indulgence I reveal to you the back of Maria's shirt.

It says: "Just kidding. Jesus loves you!"

And so, onward to the pictures...

Yours truly and Backpacking Dad hamming it up for our adoring public.

Mandy and Greeblemonkey at the wild and crazy cheeseburger party,
which hotel security shut down after less than an hour.
Thank goodness Ronald and I made up after our infamous dust-up.
Otherwise I would have felt a little hypocritical stuffing my face like I did.

Mrs Flinger and Bossy

Thanks for journeying with me - it's off to sleep and real life tomorrow...

Diva gone wild: a hair story

My husband begged me not to fall back into old habits.

"You're better than that now," he said. "You're worth more than that. We may not be rich, but we've come a long way since those days".

But I missed the excitement of it, you know? The thrill. I missed just being young and adventurous and not caring about long-term results or consequences. Truth be told, I craved the excitement of something just a little bit dangerous.

And so, the night before I was due to leave for the BlogHer conference in San Fransisco, I threw caution to the wind and I did it.

What wild and crazy thing did DMD get up to on the eve of BlogHer? Scoot on over to my Shooting For Hip column at Better Than A Playdate for all the deets and pictures too...

All in good time

This ain't just a party.

There are so many things to write about: deep things, profound things, issues and ideas about blogging as a radical act, mothering in an on-line community, privacy, monetization and personal power.

And I will write about those things, I promise. I will let all of the ideas swirling about my still-recovering-from-Thursday-night brain marinate and then I will write.

But until then, enjoy the party - I wish you were here.

Redneck Mommy and Mr Lady.

OHMommy and Mr Lady

VDog, Kim, Maria, OHMommy

OHMommy and DMD

Maria

OHMommy, Maria, DMD, Busy Dad, Kim, VDog

Kyla and Mimi

I'm hurting but I'm here

I expected it to be overwhelming and it is.

There are 1,000 people attending this conference. There are corporate and media representatives everywhere.

It. is. intense.

Is is also a lot of fun. So much fun, in fact, that I spent my first few waking hours this morning nursing the first hangover I can remember suffering since Graham's birth.

But I feel better now. And I am learning a lot. So far I have learned that mommy blogging is a radical act and that I simply must be on Twitter.

And I have definitely learned that these days five glasses of wine is waaay past my limit.

A few people I've been hanging with...

Kellan and JCK

Mandy

Mother Bumper (Happy birthday MB!) and Scarbie Doll

Old friends, new friends

You might think that ruining my parents' anniversary was the highlight for me this past weekend.

But you'd be wrong.

I neglected to mention that one of the other reasons I journeyed up to my old home town was an informal high school reunion / dance that was held at the local Legion Hall Saturday night.

I am one of the few people who will freely admit that I thoroughly enjoyed high school, so there was no question that I would accept any invitation to walk down memory lane. I dragged Rob along and we both had a great time, dancing and chatting and generally staying out way too late.

Here's me with some friends I have not seen for nearly 20 years. That's me on the right. The guy in the middle? He was my first-ever boyfriend. Our scandalous romance started when I was a ninth grader and he was in grade 13. He still has the quick wit and sense of humor I remember and a great time was had by all.

So let's talk about new friends...

Just one more sleep til I go to BlogHer and make a whole bunch of new friends and memories. I'm rooming with this lovely lady, sitting beside her on the plane, meeting these guys at the airport and have plans to hang out with her and her and her.

I've read a lot of posts in the last few weeks about how nervous people are about traveling to San Francisco and meeting fellow bloggers in person but I'm not scared, just excited. Perhaps it's because I really am a diva, or perhaps I lack a certain self awareness or perhaps the caution that "it's kinda like high school all over again" actually sounds like a good thing to me.

Especially because I know I will not be committing this fashion faux pas again.

See you in San Francisco peeps!