Shelley's got me thinking--again. In today's post she made me feel nostalgic in a way I've never felt before. Not more or less intense than regular nostalgia, but compressed for sure.
I remember the days Shelley is writes about. They were what, six months ago? In blogland it seems like ten years ago. Jokin', jivin', jawin' on the tele, everything was upside down and sideways but somehow just right. Are we saying, "Those were the days, my friend?" Well, for now, maybe I am.
Looking back. Shared History.
Shared agony, ecstacy. hurt. laughter. With you, Shell. About those days.
When George was in Hong Kong, me here with Jenna, the telephone inviting long talks with Marek, Shelley, Halley, Gary, RB, Tom, Elaine, and crew. They helped take care of me, supported my journey into therapy and soul searching. Jenna wasn't even in pre-K yet. I was working full-time. I hadn't told my parents they were alcoholics yet. So much is different now.
The world in blogtime.
And so I go further back.
And I realize that a year ago Monday (Oct 7th) I started blogging. I signed onto blogger with Reading Gonzo--Engaged after spending a week engrossed with a review copy of Chris Locke's Gonzo Marketing. The infamous RageBoy and I had exchanged a few emails before then. But I never imagined the guy would be our daughter's Uncle when I sent him that MS Word document last October--a document in which I'd been journaling my reading of Gonzo Marketing. He wrote back and said, "This would be just right for a blog, or two, or three." I took him at his word. Still do.
For me, this is where my life among bloggers began.
Gonzo Engaged lived a pretty full life, as its archives attest to. But of late, it has waned in popularity and postings. Many of the bloggers Locke inspired, some of whom started blogging right then and there on the Gonzo team blog, are now focused on their own weblogs and team blogs, me among them.
Still, I wait. To see if Gonzo will re-ignite.
Blogs are funny that way.
So is RageBoy.
But when I look back at my first year of blogging, it seems like a lifetime ago.
Maybe that's because we're living in so many people's lives at once.
Do you think?
I remember when Gary launched the soon-to-be international phenomenon known as Blog Stickers, me saying, can I put one of those things on my blog? (Yes, I was the first.) I picked "Blog is a four letter word," bought up Gary's t-shirts and mugs, told him we'd just hit the new era of e-commerce, and shit, we kind of did, never forseeing Gary was just getting going with his insane ideas, hadn't yet experienced his Chukka Bar Incident; chalk chalking was just a glimmer in its father's eye, as was Baby Turner to be.
RageBoy was loving, then dying; now reborn. I've watched the metamorphosis, which has been incredible, and as real life as real life gets hundreds of miles away over wires.
Halley, Craig, Shelley, and now Doc, all lived in different houses. I feel like I've moved with all of them. Is that why I'm so tired? Halley, where'd you put my f-ing can opener?
Marek hadn't scared us yet with his traumatic hospital stay, Dave Winer hadn't either.
I was on Mike Sanders' blogroll and he was on mine.
The warbloggers were mere pains in the asses, not a full-fledged movement.
Blog Sisters was an idea that woke me up one night, nothing less or more, until... and then...
Elaine wasn't a grandma yet.
I hadn't met AKMA's amazing wife, Margaret.
So many things. So many things to have happened. So many things to have happened to so many of us.
And more to come.
Only one absolute: I feel blessed to be among you.
September 30, 2002
I am a mouth hanging open
Well, since Uncle RageBoy posted his plea to burst Jenna's brain with a bushel of presents for her five-year-old birthday, I decided to check Jenna's wishlist to see what was going on. I was dumbfounded by the outpouring of generosity--and really cool presents--that are coming her way. I called George over to my laptop and said, "Check this out!" We were stunned. No way, George said... I said, "See, I told you these bloggers are cooler than most of the real life people we know." Which, in and of itself is a rather odd statement, but, I know you all know what I mean. What we have is a truly amazing community of love unseen, of hope untouched, all the more powerful because.
And it's not just the presents--the good wishes from those who can't or choose not to jump on amazon and one-click Jenna a gift are just as sincere and meaningful, just as special and appropriate, and we appreciate them all. Please do know that.
I sat Jenna down at the laptop before school early this morning to read her the comments from Dean, from Frank, from Shelley, from all these crazy uncles and aunts she has yet to meet.
She was all smiles and giggles, and please know that you are all becoming household names around the Sessum homestead. That *can* be a good thing.
Thank you one and all... I'll keep you posted as the packages arrive--try to get some pics of our little darling in her glory.
And it's not just the presents--the good wishes from those who can't or choose not to jump on amazon and one-click Jenna a gift are just as sincere and meaningful, just as special and appropriate, and we appreciate them all. Please do know that.
I sat Jenna down at the laptop before school early this morning to read her the comments from Dean, from Frank, from Shelley, from all these crazy uncles and aunts she has yet to meet.
She was all smiles and giggles, and please know that you are all becoming household names around the Sessum homestead. That *can* be a good thing.
Thank you one and all... I'll keep you posted as the packages arrive--try to get some pics of our little darling in her glory.
September 29, 2002
put her back inside?
Five years ago this evening, we stared at each other, a lot.
We knew that the next day we'd have a baby, with ultrasound certainty, a baby girl to be exact.
Tonight, I don't know why, and I do know why, and either way, I mourn the end of my pregnancy. It's five years later, and tonight I am grieving over the loss of those nine months as if the last four years never happened.
Although my pregnancy was filled with plenty of peril--ultrasounds to track my multitude of uterine fibroids (many bigger than "the bean" as we called her then), office trips for episodes of sudden bleeding, and my own untold doubts about my ability to mother--it was also the most blissful time in my life. For a couple, there is nothing like a first pregnancy. You have one another's complete attention (which you never have again). You watch the miracle of creation take place before your very eyes. You learn what your mate is made of. You work together to complete the most amazing human task there is.
Having been married 11 years before deciding to take the plunge into parenthood, we were pretty used to being two. I relished those 9 months knowing that I should, understanding that nothing would ever be the same again. I took five or six baths a day, read every trashy novel I could get my hands on in the tub, loved my husband attending to my every need.
It really was the best of times. And it's over.
And maybe it's me being 40 and Jenna turning 5 that has me in this place where I'm afraid--very afraid--I'll never get to do it again.
I remember saying to George, one night in my 8th month, "Think about what we're doing right now--this minute. What will it be like to have another person here with us?" I couldn't fathom it. He said, "The house adapts; we adapt. She'll just be here doing these things with us."
And so she is. And I feel so blessed I am weak from it. And I am going to sleep.... to lie next to my baby for a while. Goodnight.
We knew that the next day we'd have a baby, with ultrasound certainty, a baby girl to be exact.
Tonight, I don't know why, and I do know why, and either way, I mourn the end of my pregnancy. It's five years later, and tonight I am grieving over the loss of those nine months as if the last four years never happened.
Although my pregnancy was filled with plenty of peril--ultrasounds to track my multitude of uterine fibroids (many bigger than "the bean" as we called her then), office trips for episodes of sudden bleeding, and my own untold doubts about my ability to mother--it was also the most blissful time in my life. For a couple, there is nothing like a first pregnancy. You have one another's complete attention (which you never have again). You watch the miracle of creation take place before your very eyes. You learn what your mate is made of. You work together to complete the most amazing human task there is.
Having been married 11 years before deciding to take the plunge into parenthood, we were pretty used to being two. I relished those 9 months knowing that I should, understanding that nothing would ever be the same again. I took five or six baths a day, read every trashy novel I could get my hands on in the tub, loved my husband attending to my every need.
It really was the best of times. And it's over.
And maybe it's me being 40 and Jenna turning 5 that has me in this place where I'm afraid--very afraid--I'll never get to do it again.
I remember saying to George, one night in my 8th month, "Think about what we're doing right now--this minute. What will it be like to have another person here with us?" I couldn't fathom it. He said, "The house adapts; we adapt. She'll just be here doing these things with us."
And so she is. And I feel so blessed I am weak from it. And I am going to sleep.... to lie next to my baby for a while. Goodnight.
baby blogger's turning five tomorrow...
I remember five years ago, all the feelings of terror and wonder, knowing that the next day we would have a daughter. Scheduled c-section means you pick your baby's birthday--a weighty task not lost on me. September baby? October baby? The choice was ours, and we made it based on who we thought the best doctor for the job was. Turned out, he wasn't, but along came this beautiful spirit, powering her way into the world--she hasn't let up a day in five years. I love her so.
Jenna's Amazon Wish List
Jenna's Amazon Wish List