Beautiful Dancer

Iowa Blogger Meet Up

Saturday I got up before the rooster and ducks and silently loaded up the car with bacon and sausages and my laptop....and hit the road for Iowa City....alone (well, until I met up with Diana for carpool magic!).

I plugged in to cooking podcasts and enjoyed the sunrise as the frosted fields rolled on by.

I was terribly nervous. I had been invited to an Iowa Food Blogger meet up and meeting authors that I read regularly in person was something I was looking forward to. I also wanted to learn how to grow audience and make my blog more focused and readable. I needed feedback on my book in progress.

But I started thinking that I was going to hang out with the amazing people who have thousands of followers and huge audiences and published books and I very much did not belong. I blog because writing make me happy and it amuses me. I blog so my kids will have a written record of who I am and that I love them so much.

Anxiety.

Panic.

What was I worried about? I spent the day getting to know some of the most amazing voices emerging on the web right now. No one thought I was a big ol faker. No one demeaned mommy blogging. No one was rolling their eyes when someone brought up creating content or using social media to direct traffic. It was so nice.

Bonus is that Iowa City is gorgeous and just vibrates with creativity and memories. Love.

The day started at the New Pioneer Co-op.

Just gorgeous. A grocery store that cares about the food politics that I do. No dyes. No crap. No GMO's. Varieties of carrots. That's right VARIETIES OF CARROTS. They visit the farms they buy from and insist on living wages, fair trade LOCALLY. This is so amazing that if I could afford to, I would drive to Iowa City to do my grocery shopping. Not kidding.

Then we headed downtown and of course my phone/camera died. Sigh.

I bought a cool pair of shoes, watched my friends eat cupcakes (what? My blood sugar was making me dizzy so I opted not to sugar high so early in the day), and talked about trolls, blog stalkers, and Internet safety. Good company. Beautiful weather. So many memories flooded me, as place and sensory does with me. Iowa City was an escape for me as a teenager. I often drove out there overnight without my parents knowing and drove back in the morning. I didn't partake in typical teenager trouble, usually I walked around, met up with people for coffee, wrote poetry, and just enjoyed being where other writers were living and breathing.

I don't know why I didn't go there for college, but I am glad I ended up where I did instead. I forged my own path, as I do now.

The whole day got me thinking about what I am doing here with this blog. Should I change the focus and stop being all over the place? Should I claim I am a feminist farmer and forge ahead a new politic? Yeah. No.

I am still finding my voice. I am finding more and more that I am called to give words to the experiences that we share and tell the stories that others cannot and are afraid to.

Plus, I love sharing recipes.

So you get me. All of me. The whole hot mess and the kitchen sink.

Thank you for reading here. Thank you for sharing your experiences and laughing along with me as I share mine.

Here's the blog list of the fantastic and funny folks I met up with:
Simplify, Live, Love
Ally's Sweet and Savory
Been There, Baked That
Herbalist Eats
My Humble Kitchen
Chez Bonne Femme
Sawdust and Embryos
Iowa Food Blog
In the Kitchen with Jenny
Culinary Bliss
The Sustainable Couple 
Make the Best of Everything

and a few others I still need to look up and add....and will do once I get caught up with grading papers, laundry and dishes.

Happy Birthday Little Buddy, Science Center Style

Isaac had so much fun that we bought a membership and plan to go back every other week as weather allows. Happy birthday buddy.

Connection

Lily and I have taken a wonderful class series learning how to work clay at a local art studio. Every Tuesday night in 6 week chunks, we would drop the little kids off with Chad and head to get dinner somewhere and there we would chat, write, draw, and get to know each other. Then at 5 we might wander over to the coffee shop, then on to art class.

Art class ended and we can't attend the winter session because of the weather in Iowa in January and February and the fact that we live 1.5 hours away from the city where the class is. If it was a day class, maybe, but travelling Iowa roads in the dark and ice is just something I would rather avoid. Plus, winter chores are a problem and we just need to be closer to home more often.

She was sad, but said stoically, "Mama, I just like best that we have alone time together, like we used to before the other kids were born."

She had almost 4 years of being an onliest child and I forget that sometimes. Knowing that she needs that extra connection, that special time where she is not responsible for being an example, a big sister, or a playmate is important. Being the oldest is hard. Being the oldest in a family with special needs is more so, I think.

So now, instead of just watching television with her before bed, I picked up a couple art projects that are too complex for the little kids and only she and I can do together. We started earlier this week and so far so good.

I watch for lectures and events we can attend. Tonight we are attending a lecture on American Gothic by art historian Wanda Corn. It may be way over Lily's head, but that's actually a good thing. She will be challenged, maybe even a little bored, but maybe not. She will have to learn to mingle and socialise with people who are a "big deal" and are of different social classes than we are eventually and this is a safe place to do that and for her to see me do that too.

These are more than just decorations and outings, these are relationship building. Every moment I get to know her better. I may be her mother and it is easy to think that I know her best, and maybe I do, but much of her is still ever changing and a mystery to me and possibly to her as well. My job is to be here for her and help her get to know herself. It is a gift if she shares even a tiny bit of that with me.