We got Charlotte all excited for a birthday party Saturday morning. I explained how the toy truck was not for her as I put it in the gift bag. (I only wrap at Christmas. Don’t judge.) Greyson was all like, “Who’s party is this again?”

I explained it was for Harrison. He is the darling, toe-headed 3-year-old of my dear friend Beth Anne. She is my sorority sister and Internet maven. I was all like, “You know, Beth Anne. Her husband went to school with us too.” He said, “Oh, are they cool?” I was all like, “Um, yeah. I told you she is one of my sisters. We were the best chapter on campus, so yeah. I’d say they’re cool.” He reminded me that I am a 31 year-old mother and really need to let the sorority days go. (Never!)

I dolled up Charlotte in a little fall frock and off we went. We were about 20 minutes late. I figure it was cool to be fashionably late to a party. I was all like, “Charlotte, can you say ‘Happy Birthday Harry!’?” She giggled.

I rang the bell and Beth Anne stared at me like I had five heads. She was all like, this.

Beth Anne and I doubled over in giggles at my stupidity. The party is next Saturday. Greyson was all like, “Seriously, Amy?” My mistake meant I got to hug my friend and get a sneak peek of her new house.

Charlotte was all like, “I want cake!” I was all like, “Yeah, too bad. We’re gonna go get flu shots and vote early.”

In the car Greyson was all like, “She’s cool. I like her.” I was all like, “I told you.”

No surprise. I got the date at our Early Voting precinct wrong too. Guess when it opens? Yep. Next Saturday.

The family flu shots were somewhat successful. I was all like, “I want to try the new type of flu shot with the 90% smaller needle that hurts less! Oh! It’s covered by our insurance!” Greyson and I got the new shot and Charlotte got the standard pediatric dose. We tried to be brave in front of our toddler but both of us were all like, “Ugh! Hurts less, my ass!” Our arms are still red two days later.

About as red as Greyson’s face standing on Beth Anne’s steps.

Hey there, readers! I’m not here today. I’m over at Carolina Parent, guest blogging for them.

Check it out.

They are Central North Carolina’s premiere source for parents with a magazine that reaches more than 100,000 readers. They are a great group and I’m truly honored to get to write for them today.

Once again, I put all my business on the Internet. I get a little heavy, but the message is from the heart and I hope it helps someone. I discuss my personal battle with Postpartum Depression/OCD. There are lots of resources out there, including websites and publications like Carolina Parent

I think all bloggers get a kick out of seeing the search engine queries that land someone on their site. Some of my recents are “Sasquatch arm”, “conversion van sink”, and “sinus pot.” Nice, right?

A search term I saw yesterday chilled my blood and turned my stomach.

“naked baby girls in the bathtub”

Oh, holy Sandusky! Who is the perverted Jon Benet Ramsey fan that Googled that?! I know that that search could have been totally innocuous, but as a parent I was freaked out. I scoured old posts for any picture of Charlotte in the bathtub on the blog. There was only one. I took it down immediately. I don’t take completely nude photos of my child that show genitals in any way. I certainly NEVER put them online. This photo was very innocent and really only showed Charlotte’s bubble covered head, but still.

I Tweeted this problem out to get response from other bloggers. One said “I get that and worse in my stats. I’ve learned there are freaks out there and there’s nothing we can do about it. Try to ignore.” Another said, “People are disgusting and no one should ever take a picture of their child in a bathtub and put it on the Internet, ever.”

I’ve heard the horror stories from bloggers about others using the pictures of their children to start their own fake blog. This story of someone using a child’s likeness on a t-shirt in Brazil is bizarre.

I knew the risk of putting my life on the Internet when I started blogging. I’ve heard remarks from other parents about overexposing my child. I’m confident in my ability to protect her and still write a blog. This is really the only negative thing that has happened to me aside from the occasional weird or rude comment. (I don’t really mind those. At least someone read it.)

Again, this could be a totally innocent thing and someone was looking for some type of Anne Geddes cute picture. But, “naked baby girls in the bathtub” does have a creepy, pedophilia vibe. The worse part? It got four clicks to my site! Someone searched that four times!

If you’re a parent, what would you do if you were me? I mean, show me a parent in 2012 that hasn’t posted an adorable bubble bath picture of their kids on Facebook or a blog? Am I overreacting? Be honest. Seriously.

Today I rushed to get our abode looking pristine for the open house, and gather the large amount of stuff our little family seems to cart around. In my haste I committed a blogger cardinal sin. I left my camera at home. It got worse. I left my phone in the car during a photo worthy moment.

As cliche as it sounds, I’ll have to use my words to paint this picture for you.

During the open house we went to eat at a local pizza place where we could sit outside. The dog was with us. Afterward, Greyson wanted to sit in the car with Ginger so she could be in the cool air. Charlotte and I walked across the street to an ice cream shop.

My sweet girl wasn’t too squirmy as we waited in line behind two large families. I kissed her face still dotted with cheese, remnants of her lunch. I asked her what kind of ice cream she wanted. She smiled and pointed before leaning down to leave her tiny handprint on the frosty glass. I giggled, cherishing the time I have left to pick the flavor before she decides blue raspberry with gummy bears is a good idea.

She surprisingly stayed nearby and didn’t make her usual run for it when I had to put her down to pay. An ice cream cone in hand added to the awkward fumbling of carrying a diaper bag, my purse, and a toddler. But we made it to the bar stools along the edge of the shop, by the windows. The families took the stools so I sat Charlotte up on the bar and stood with her and our treat.

My babe and I shared sweet cream and cold kisses. I let her hold the cone in her chubby fingers. The scoop was about as big as her head, so I had to take bites from the other side to prevent ice cream catastrophe. She thought it was hilarious when I licked the same time she did. We bumped noses and licked fingers. The fast melting cone left deliciously sticky tracks down her arms. The teenagers behind the counter pumped some bumpin’ Top 40 over the speakers. This led to Charlotte bouncing to the music. Naturally, we had to dance a little. She laughed when I got silly and slurped up drips off her arm to the beat of the song.

A mother nearby looked at her messy face said, “You need to take a picture!”

Yeah. I wanted to. But, I could only take a mental picture. So I did. I locked in the image forever of my beautiful, growing baby with glowing blue eyes, light brown curls tied up in a pink bow, and feet dangling off the counter in toddler sneakers. Oh! And those cheeks! Still soft and round like a baby’s, smeared with melted ice cream, grinning up at me.

We polished off the cone and went to meet Daddy in the car. When we got there he said, “I watched you from the window and fell in love all over again. You two were having fun. You love your girl!” I reminded him how much I love him too.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one taking a mental picture. Remind me to forget the camera more often.

About halfway through my first BlogHer conference I realized I had only slept about 5 hours in two days. There was no stopping at this realization. I was off to the next event. I said to my roommates, two of which had been there before, “Oh my God! This is insane. I am wiped!”

One responded, “That’s BlogHer!”

She was right. That was BlogHer. It was three days and nights of non-stop hand shaking, nametag reading, card swapping, and swag toting. This is all while anxiously smiling at people you may or may not recognize from their Twitter avatar and wondering what parties they got invited to.

That is BlogHer, but it’s so much more.

I decided I had the privilege of taking four days out of my life to be there and I was going to experience everything I could. I started with rushing off my plane into a cab to be at the hotel in time to hear the leader of the free world speak to bloggers. President Obama spoke via satellite to the conference. Later in the weekend we got to hear from Martha Stewart and Katie Couric. It was also Martha Stewart’s birthday on Friday. When the crowd started singing to her, I pretended they were singing “Happy Birthday” to me too. Martha and Katie were great, but not the ones who truly inspired me.

After hearing the posts of the BlogHer ’12 Voices of the Year winners I wanted to throw open my laptop and lay fingers to keyboard. What words could I come up with to create such beautiful stories? Could I craft a piece with that much meaning, humor, or poise? After this weekend I’m starting to believe I can.

The last night I got lucky enough to be in the same room as two of my blog idols. I saw Jill from Scary Mommy and Kat from Mama Kat’s Losin’ It. I watched them pile into the funny photo booth at one of the parties. They were so at ease, laughing together. It was clear they had “been-here-done-this” but were taking in some of the festivities anyway. I felt like a freshman watching the popular senior girls. Finally, I gathered my underclassman gumption and just went up to them and introduced myself. I told them how much I like their work and how they inspired me to write. Both seemed genuinely appreciative of my words.

I suppose I could walk away from the weekend thinking there is no way I’ll ever be as talented or successful with my blog as those women are with theirs’. Or, I could use BlogHer as a start. This was the launching pad I needed to take the next step.

After all, I did become a senior girl.

After the party where I got to meet Jill and Kat I met up with some of my fellow freshman bloggers. Above all else at BlogHer, I learned no one becomes successful without others. That means in my quest to get better, I have to support others.

Support. That’s BlogHer.