I had a blog revelation this weekend.  A blogevation if you will.  I don’t know what it is about mom bloggers in Raleigh, but we rock.  I feel so lucky to be in a city with so many talented mothers who write for the rest of the world to read.  A little gander of my blogroll is proof we are keyboard happy mamas here in the Tar Heel state.

I have a new one to add.  I didn’t find Settle Monroe during a Twitter party, through Top Baby Blogs, or a blogger networking event.  No.  I found her in my Sunday newspaper.

courtesy: The News & Observer

The News & Observer featured Settle and her blog As I Walk.  She started writing after the sudden death of her nearly three-year-old son.  When I read the article my heart went up into my throat and I had to catch my breath.  She blogs her grief.  She blogs her child’s memory.  My God, she does it beautifully.

Suddenly I felt so silly looking at my posts with carefully cropped photos and crafted witty remarks.  I felt foolish for checking stats or counting followers.  I felt even more ashamed of being jealous of other bloggers.  I realized in some ways I’ve lost my way with this blog.  We all want a “successful” blog.  But, what does that really mean?  When I started writing Somebody’s Parents it was with the purest intentions.  I wanted to remember my pregnancy and document the life of my baby.  I knew NOTHING about mommy bloggers,  SEO, Twitter, Facebook fan pages, BlogHer or any of it.   One line of the article sticks out to me, as it should all bloggers.

“Monroe said she doesn’t know how many people read her blog.  She could find out, probably, but she doesn’t care.”

It struck me that no matter why you write a blog, be it to celebrate, share, or grieve, you do it to write.  Writing is the foundation.

Preparing for BlogHer ’12 is so exciting.  I can’t believe it’s almost here.  It’s my first blogging conference.  I am anxious to learn all I can about blogging and how I can make Somebody’s Parents better.  I LOVE blogging!  I love all the connections I have made and the stories I have the privilege of reading everyday.  Before I get too carried away with “growing the blog”, I need to get back to what it’s all about.

Thank you Settle.  Thank you for being brave enough to share your story and inspire strangers all over the world, and right here in your city.

How nice was it to have a holiday in the middle of the week?!  Our little firecracker made it memorable.  We decorated her wagon and headed to downtown Apex, NC for their little kid-friendly festival and parade.

Two of Charlotte’s BFF’s, Cadence and Josh, joined her for the parade.  I use the term loosely as it’s really a stroll down the block among hundreds of other kids with their faces painted.  It’s cute, really.  It’s tailor-made for toddlers and preschoolers as it’s held between 9am-noon.

Among the hundreds of star-spangled tots were their equally patriotic parents.  I was amused at the crowd and the similarities in our parental paraphanalia.

Almost every parent had some or all of the following:

• A decorated Radio Flyer Wagon-  Many had the identical streamers and star stickers I found at Target.  I did not upgrade to the glitter star door-hanger from the store’s 4th display, but the more enthusiastic parents had several of them.
• A yuppie jogging stroller- This seemed acceptable to have in lieu of the Radio Flyer.  Particularly if your older child was riding their tricycle in the parade while one parent waited with the infant in the stroller.
• Diaper bag or backpack- Stocked with Goldfish or some organic snack that wouldn’t melt in the sun.
• Sippy cup-  Each had the child’s name on it in the form of a silicone band or dishwasher-safe sticker.
• Expensive DSLR camera- The parent in no way had mastered all its features.
• iPhone-  To take pictures with instead of the DSLR.  Some pictures had to be uploaded to Facebook/Instagram/Twitter/Tumbler/Foursquare etc.  I mean, are our children really doing something if we don’t put it on the Internet?
• Overpriced sunscreen- No doubt from Target.

Poor Miss Charlotte only made it halfway down the block when she saw Daddy and started crying and reaching for him.  She was smiling and waving up until then.

I was so happy strolling in all that silliness.  I mean, we are in a country where we have the freedom to raise our children however we choose.  There are women in other parts of the world who can’t relay the ups and downs of parenthood or spout their opinions on the Internet everyday.  I do.

Today I happily celebrated my freedom by participating in social media.   Happy 4th of July, everyone!

I’ve witnessed some children in Charlotte’s daycare perform this daily ritual of losing their minds when their parents drop them off.  They cry, wail, and cling to mom or dad until the teachers expertly distract the child.  Come pick-up time they squeal and joyfully run with open arms as their parents scoop them up.

Not our kid.  Nope.  That behavior is very rare.  She can’t wait to get down and play.  She darts for the toys and runs to her peers who’s eyes are still fresh with tears from their goodbyes.  We come and pick her up and she barely looks up.  We have to pry books or toys out of her hands to get her to leave.  Her acknowledgement of us comes only in the form of whines for a paci or crackers to eat in the car.

She will offer a hug, smile, and wave when I leave.  I cherish that and memorize the image to carry with me during the day because that’s all I’ll get.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love that Charlotte is so independent and eager, but is it too much to ask for a little parental longing?  ::sigh::  I have to imagine the parents of clingers wish their kids were a little more like my independent child.

I’m no ophthalmologist, just an attention seeker with a laptop.  But, I’m here today to dispel the rumor that pink eye is caused by getting poop in your eye.  This topic came up because I just battled another bout of Oozy Eyeball Disease, better known as Bacterial Conjunctivitis.

The guys in Knocked Up claimed they “farted bare-assed on each other’s pillows” and gave each other pink eye with “poop particles”. This was an exaggeration for comedy, not based on medical knowledge.

My doctor said lots of different bacteria cause pink eye, not just bacteria from fecal matter.  I was concerned when someone told me I was getting pink eye because I change my baby’s diaper and then touch my face.  Eww!  I wash my hands, you sicko!

Right after my coworkers sent me home to wash out my eyes last week, I really did have a reason to wash out my eyes.

I left a meeting and went to my car in a parking deck downtown.  I was climbing the stairs when I turned the corner and saw a man leaning on the railing with it all out.  I mean IT all out.  Yep, a homeless guy using our city’s public parking deck as his private restroom flashed me!  I turned and bolted towards security.  I didn’t bother to call the police.  I had to get to the doctor.  I begged him to give me Listerine, Isopropyl Alcohol or anything to disinfect my eyes and brain from that sight.

I did notice the guy’s eyes before I laid eyes on his junk.  Neither appeared infected.  But again I’m no ophthalmologist, nor urologist.