Mom 2.0 Summit – How To Be Awkward At a Conference

 

mom2summit

You’d never know…

 

 

Two weeks have now past since I attended the Mom 2.0 Summit in Laguna Niguel.  I am still recovering from the whirlwind I returned home to, but I left the conference with a few new tools, feeling inspired, and just as awkward as ever.  I have no problem speaking on a stage to hundreds of people.  I am comfortable in front of a camera.  Put me in a social situation, and I’m a wreck.

How To Be Awkward At a Conference:

  • Develop a mysterious stomach bug as you’re about to board the party bus to your first networking event.  Back away slowly from the people staring at you, and walk quickly to your hotel room while leaning slightly to the left.  Do not answer your phone or re-appear again for at least 16 hours.
  • Laugh at least two decibels too loud when someone makes a joke.
  • Ask if you can join a table at lunch time full of strangers.  Introduce yourself to none of them.
  • Flirt with Ciaran from Momfluential on Instagram while she is sitting right behind you.  When you finally meet her, say “Hi! How are you” and never talk to her again.
  • Run away from Lisa Ling.
  • Say “hi” to people you’d love to have drinks with like Jessica Gottlieb and Cecily Kellog.  Make sure not to invite them to have drinks.
  • Tweet a compliment to  women who have said something on a panel that inspired you or rang true… do it while they are standing two feet away from you.  Make sure not to say anything to them in real life.
  • Wow everyone with your pitch at the HLN/Raising America Shark Tank suite (look for me on the show, hopefully later in the year).  Get immediate green lights across the board, tricking people into thinking you are brilliant and have your shit together.  When someone grabs your arm to tell you how wonderful your pitch was – open your eyes really big, nod, turn slowly, and walk away without saying a word.
  • Smile inhumanly big at people… then disappear a lot.
  • Suggest Shannon @MrLady and Jim @BusyDadBlog hire a hotel babysitter for their 15 year old so they can have some sex.
  • Secretly send Katherine Stone from PostPartum Progress  a direct message asking for help because you are hiding in your hotel room bathroom.
  • Make a video of yourself hiding in your hotel bathroom.
  • Announce really loudly when you have to go to the bathroom.
  • Give your business cards out to tons of people, making sure to announce they might feel warm because they’ve been against your ass in your back pocket all day.

And last but not least…

  • Make sure to wear shoes that give you blisters so you acquire a nice limp.

 

I’m either going to get better at this social stuff or perfect my ability to make a room uncomfortable.  Only time will tell, but I have another conference in July and am already scheduled to go to Atlanta for Mom 2.0 next year.

I did have someone say, “Oh, your Jenni… from MommynaniBooboo… the mythical unicorn of the conference.”

I’ll take it.

Anything is better than “that awkward chick with the warm business cards and the limp”.

 

jenni chiu sig

 

 

 

Me, Cloud 9 Living, and A Glider Plane – Because I Need More Living and Less Stuff.

 

Remember that time I got that awesome experience package in the mail from Cloud 9 Living – the company dedicated to changing gift giving by “enhancing people’s lives through memorable experiences”?  Remember how I told you guys not to tell my mom that I was going to fly a plane?  Remember how one of you spilled the beans, because my mom totally knew when I called her later that day?

I bet you’ve been wondering if I went through with it.

I bet you’ve been wondering if I let my anxiety, lack of free time, or incredible sleepiness stand in the way of claiming my experience gift.

You know I’ve been trying to be brave lately.  You know part of me wants to grab life by the big smelly balls and really live.  You also know that for me sometimes shutting down and doing nothing feels way safer than living.

Well…

Here’s how that Saturday went for me:

*****

I had to leave before the sun was up to make the drive, but because I have a preschooler and a teething baby the early hour felt completely normal.

I fought with my husband.  He was missing his morning to sleep in, and was grouchy and unhelpful.  I was anxious and bristly.

I left late and decided to speed in order to make up for lost time.

Thirty seconds later I was sure I was courting danger by speeding, and felt it would not be prudent to do that on a day I would be learning to fly a teeny tiny glider plane.

It just so happened to be the windiest day of the year so far, and as I felt the high winds pushing against the side of my car on the highway, I decided to turn around.

Thirty seconds later I knew that turning around would be dumb because I never get two hours by myself in a car.  I turned up the music, belted out some light rock, and vowed to at least make it to my destination to take a picture of the plane.

I headed up into the mountains where numerous signs were posted telling me I was in a “daylight headlight zone”.

Numerous other signs told me to look out for cows crossing.

Soon my GPS told me I was almost at my destination, so I took one of these:

 

The back of the box told me not to operate heavy machinery…

but a glider plane doesn’t have an engine, so I figured I was okay.

A half hour later I arrived at Warner Springs Ranch.

 

I parked in the dirt parking lot, stepped out of the car, and let the wind blow me into the office.

 

On my way through the door I passed a man on his phone sounding incredulous.  All I could hear as he passed by were the words, “… actually flying in this wind…”.  I decided to just ask if I could take pictures of the plane… but then…

I was greeted by this guy:

 

and this guy:

 

There was also a very amiable two year old little girl running around, and another cat drinking out of their kitchen sink.  This combined with smiling faces, lack of nearby Starbucks, and unreliable toilet gave the place a very mom-and-pop feel.

 

Surprisingly, the low-tech mom-and-pop-ness of Sky Sailing made me feel less and not more nervous.

So, I took a deep breath…

signed my life away:

 

Walked out onto the “runway”…

saw my plane:

 

and decided to do a little  bit of living and get inside it.

By the time I changed my mind again, the instructor and I were already being towed by another plane a mile into the sky.

 

It was a bumpy-ass ride.  It was loud.  It was scary.

Then, the instructor asked me to pull the lever that releases our tow line to the other plane.

I didn’t do it.

He very calmly asked me again to pull the lever.

I didn’t do it.

Then he said, “Pull the lever.  Pull the lever.  Pull the lever.”

I did…

and it was quiet…

and it was still…

and it was beautiful.

I had never been in a plane with no engine before.  It truly was like soaring.

What I didn’t expect was how peaceful it would be – the kind of peace a mother of two boys under five only dreams of.

I didn’t speak much for the first twenty minutes, and the instructor was kind enough to follow my lead.

Until he asked me if I’d like to take over the controls.

My head said, “Nah, no thank you”, but my mouth said, “Okay”!

The rest of the ride was equal parts this:

 

and this:

 

That Saturday was terrifying…

and exhilarating…

and serene.

My stomach got a little woozy towards the end of my flight and lasted the entire drive home, bu all in all – the gift of flight is a way better gift than a book, or dangly earrings, or a gourmet fruit basket.

I’d do it again in a mini-rabbit’s heartbeat.

I’ll take an experience gift over a regular ole’ present any day.  Cloud 9 Living is America’s leader in experience gift giving, and it’s a breeze to claim and schedule your experience gift.  I found their representatives to be incredibly helpful and even enthusiastic about my adventure.  If you’re looking to really give a worthwhile gift to someone you care about, I recommend choosing one of over 1,700 experiential gifts that Cloud 9 Living has to offer.

I need more living and less stuff.

Most of us do.

 

 

PS – Some of you have been so very not shy about expressing your jealousy over my glider plane experience.  Well now you’re in luck.  Cloud 9 Living is having a “9 Days Of Christmas Contest”.  You can enter to win one of nine prizes, with a grand prize of being a fighter pilot for a day!

 

*Cloud 9 Living gifted me with this experience.  All opinions are my own… and of course, priceless.

 

 

 

Don’t Tell My Mom – I’m Going To Fly An Airplane.

 

As you know, I’ve given myself permission to be brave.  The Universe is responding by sending multiple opportunities my way to grab life by the smelly balls and truly experience things.

That’s the key word – “experience”.

I’ve been given one by Cloud 9 Living (I’ll tell you more about them at a later date).

It came in the mail.

 

It was proudly packaged by someone named Lydia.

 

 

It looked all dreamy.

 

 

It told me my experience was awaiting.

 

 

It told me I had a gilder plane ride and flying lesson waiting for me…

 

 

And then I peed a little.

I used to be all foot loose and fancy free, but then life got ugly and I became a worse-case-scenario, better to just shut down kind of person.  Years of anxiety and therapy later, I’m learning to really live life again…

I just haven’t lived it yet while trying to fly a glider plane.

This Saturday that will change.

I’m leaving Hot Nerd to wipe the boy’s bottoms, and I’m driving up into the mountains to let a jet plane tow my glider plane up a mile into the air, and then cut that tow line while I soar like a bird.

I’m excited beyond belief…

and anxiety ridden about the whole thing…

But I’m gonna do it anyway.

Such is living.

 

PS – Don’t tell my mom, okay?  She worries enough as it is.

 

 

 

Dear Husband In The Middle Of Nowhere,

 

Dear Husband in the middle of nowhere,

I am not against your “boy’s trips”. I appreciate your love of the wilderness, and that your best buddies are willing to sleep in the wilderness with you, so that I don’t have to.

However, it is 3 am on day 6 of you being gone and I have come to the following conclusion:

You will never do this again.

I have serious anxiety. To go so far into the middle of nowhere that you are unreachable by phone, telegram, and donkey leaves me in an insanely stressful position. I am all alone with a preschooler and ten month old, without any family, friends, or support system. I was clearly under the influence of something when I agreed to this. You may have had your shirt off.

Because I have no contact with you, I worry every single day if you are alive. Then I convince myself that you are alive, and having a really great time… which is good, because it’s the last hurrah, buddy.

I have realized that I do not function well when you are not here. There is no one to cook a fancy meal for… so I don’t eat well. The kids don’t care about the dirty dishes, so I don’t do them. I have not showered or cleaned the bathroom. At first it was a nice break. Now it’s just stinky.

I lie awake at night listening for intruders, ghosts, and very large spiders.

I have not slept in five nights. I may have had hallucinations. I found my car keys in the trash. I can’t remember our kids names. I am the zombie apocalypse.

I drank too much wine and then tried to apply the dog’s flea treatments.

I did not know we had the Lifetime Movie Network until now. We have run out of tissue.

I have not had an adult face to face conversation in over a week.

Also, I’m almost positive I just bought a condo while you were away.

 

Hugs and kisses,

Your loving wife.

 

A Sum of Some Parts – My Trip To BlogHer’12.

 

At this point in time I can do nothing but briefly spit out random details of my latest trip to the BlogHer blog conference in NYC.

 

A room full of bloggers + a live web address from President Obama = best beginning of a conference ever.

 

One busted laptop + impromptu trip to Apple store = all data lost.

Biggest blog conference in the country + lack of computer on which to blog = fucking irony.

A session on Blogging For the Love Of It + Alexandra Rosas = excellent discussion.

Cocktails + old college friends = not enough time.

Sponsored lunch + stories of violence against women = unexpected anxiety attack in hotel room.

Lisa Stone as interviewer + Katie Couric = brilliance.

Breast pump + several times a day = raw nips.

Alcohol + glow sticks and unicorns = pretty good time.

Alcohol + no husband around for days = brief moment of weakness:

 

Poking Jenny On The Spot + saying, “I love you.” + running away = awkward.

Me + parties with hundreds of people = wall merging.

NYC sidewalks + 95 degrees = steamy pee smell.

Taxi cab + illiteracy + first day “driving” = cab ride of death.

Twenty minutes + a borrowed lap top = this post.