Yesterday I stood up too quickly after putting on my shoes in our mudroom. I hit my head on the corner of the hat shelf. It was a pretty hard knock, complete with cartoon stars encircling my head and the sound of twittering blue birds. I sat down with watery eyes and took the three minutes I had to spare before leaving to pick up Little Miss Sunshine to Google “symptoms of concussion.”

(Apparently using a computer is no-no if you have a concussion. How are you supposed to know that, without using the computer? Chicken and egg, people, chicken and egg.)

I had a rager of a headache all day and got a nice goose egg but otherwise, I seem to be recovered. My professional football career will not be affected in the long term. I’m back on the roster.

I was reading this post by Tudor the other day about how writers need to kind of get over themselves and just sit down and write. She didn’t mention me specifically in her piece but it seems like it was written for me. This November has been cold and grey, colder than most, greyer than most. Maybe it’s the aging, maybe it’s the lack of focus around here, but something has made this month chilly in every sense of the word.

But I do feel a softness in the wind these days. A changing of the tide. A desire to just sit down and write.

Seems it only took a literal whack to the head to get me going again, however slowly.

I’ve hit a bit of a blogging wall. I’ve been stuck before, not knowing what to write about, or feeling like my posts are banal and boring. I’ve been too busy to write or too bogged down in other projects to give the ol’ blog much attention. I always seem to get back to it eventually.

But lately I feel like I have lost my voice. I have blogger laryngitis. It’s not that I don’t know what I want to say, it’s also that I don’t know how to say it.

I’ve been doing a writing retreat from Alison Gresik in which you go back over all your creative works and try to spot themes, identify what you like and don’t like, so you can refocus while moving forward. It’s been valuable but my overall reaction has been disappointment. It’s been a long time since I wrote something that I think is really good. Something that is funny or moving or powerful or beautiful.

And worse, when I look back at the things that I do like, I hear the voices of other people in there. My funny posts are copied from her or her or her. My sweet moment posts are copied from her or her or her. My musings on parenthood are stolen from her or her.

I’m not sure which is the real me in all that mash up. Which one is the voice that shines above the rest? What do I want to say, and how do I want to say it?

I don’t know.

I came away from Blissdom feeling as though I needed to refocus my writing and start fresh, but I really feel as lost as I ever have. I also was resolved to move my blog – finally, finally – to its own domain name, but even that is causing me to have an identity crisis. I love the name Turtlehead but it means something different to the rest of the world than it does to me. Should I rename my blog? Should I gather all my creative endeavours together under one “Lynn” style banner? Should I name my brand and develop a mission statement?

Ugh.

My blog has always been for me, a place for me to write. It’s not about selling something or getting somewhere or achieving any particular goals. It’s just meant to be a place for me to dabble in creativity.

But it’s been many, many years now and I’m still just a dabbler. I want to dive in, but I’m not sure I know how to swim.

I feel like I should write something about Blissdom, since I made such a big deal about going, but I’m not quite sure what tone to take.

Here’s what I can say: I had a really good time. I learned some good stuff. I had a truly life-changing cheesecake. (SERIOUSLY. Will be dreaming about it for years to come.)

Sir Monkeypants and the kids were great. I skyped with them and that was fun, I had a nice relaxing train ride and a happy couple of days among adults.

I don’t know, I feel like a lot of people gush after conferences, feeling as though their creativity has been sparked, their social lives transformed, their community feeling cemented.

I did have a nice time, really. Just perhaps not transformative. I think I need to process things more, maybe.

I think my biggest thing is that I didn’t socialize enough. I had read ahead of time that you need to plan for what you want to get out of a conference before you go. Maybe you want to learn things, maybe you want to meet new people, maybe you want to party it up, maybe you want to connect with brands, maybe you want to score swag. All perfectly valid, and I got the fact that I should have goals, but what I did not realize is that when you choose one of these things to focus on, it comes at the expense of the others. It appears that at conferences, as in life, we really can’t do it all.

My primary goal was to learn stuff and as a result I attended every single session and lecture. And I loved them all, and learned a lot, and am still thinking about what I learned. I took away useful information about improving my writing and my blog.

But because I attended every session, I missed out on meeting a lot of the people I wanted to meet. I didn’t realize until very late in the day on Saturday that people were actually just hanging out in the lounge, instead of sitting in the lecture hall. I didn’t even think of that as an option. So I didn’t manage to bump into people I really wanted to meet, and although I hung out with four fabulous women (shout outs to Kim, Vi, Char, and Melanie), I wish I had done more mingling and networking.

(And maybe more swag seeking, although I did manage to score two cheesecakes, then promptly passed out from sugar overload. TOTES WORTH IT.)

But then I would have missed the speakers! And they were good! So, who knows.

I am feeling wishy washy. I blame the grey weather and the cold and a slight bug I have that I am milking for all its worth.

I feel like shaking things up around here, shaking myself out of this rut. That’s a good thing, right?

So to sum up: I had fun. I learned stuff. I ate cheesecake. I feel like it’s time for some changes.

Perhaps that’s bliss.

The other day I was walking home from school with MyFriendJen, and another mom came over to set up a playdate between her daughter and Jen’s daughter. The other mom was saying that she has fallen behind on playdate scheduling, and that’s a problem because she has found that the most popular kids in school are the ones with mothers who are on-the-ball about setting up their social life for them. Those with the most playdates win.

I had never thought about this before. I am pretty bad at scheduling social dates for my kids. I’m a huge introvert in real life, and I like quiet in my house. Even making idle chit chat with another mom as she comes to pick up or drop off her kid can be too much for me some days. My kids play really well together, and sometimes when we add another kid to the mix the delicate balance of sibling cooperation is thrown off, and suddenly I have four wailing, angry children on my hands instead of three who respond well to threats of never, ever getting cookies again.

So despite the fact that, as a stay-at-home-mom, I have it pretty easy when it comes to making room in the schedule for having kids over, I rarely actually find the energy to do it.

Suddenly I’m wondering if this is a disservice to my kids. I don’t remember my own mother scheduling many playdates for me as a kid, but on the other hand everyone we played with as children lived on our street, or a street or two over. We were allowed to come and go as we pleased; we all walked home from school so sometimes one of my sisters would just bring an extra kid home, and they were welcome to stay (if they called their parents first). There wasn’t any scheduling, but there wasn’t a lack of friendly play dates, either.

Now it seems we have to have a hand in this once natural process. We’re the ones responsible for making sure our kids have friends, have a chance to nurture any budding relationships. I have to admit, even though my kids play well with others at school, none of the three of them have anything like a “best” friend, or even a go-to circle of friends for recess time. All three float on the edges of the crowd on the school yard; they sometimes join in a game with a group, where they are welcomed (for the most part), but it’s a different group every day, and more often than not, they’re observing from the sidelines.

They’re the kind of kids who must ask to be involved, not the kids who are invited. They’re the ones going around looking for a game, rather than starting one up and having others follow.

I’m not saying that’s a problem, per se. They all seem happy enough and they never complain about feeling left out or lonely. In fact, until that other mom made her comment about playdates, I’d never even thought there was any kind of issue here at all. They’ll figure it out, I thought. Some day they’ll find their tribe. There’s always plenty of school friends to invite for birthday parties, and that’s enough, isn’t it?

Is it?

After my post last week about the sleepover thing, I’m now wondering if I’ve been to tight with them, holding them too close. Am I standing between them and their peers? In my quest for a close-knit family, am I making it harder for them to be outside the house, in other groups and situations?

I’m really not sure. But I wonder.

So I’m going to Blissdom this weekend. I’m looking forward to it, not in a crazy SUPER PUMPED kind of way, but in a general-good-feeling kind of way. I’ve been feeling lately like I’ve lost my blogging mojo – not that I don’t want to blog, just that the words haven’t been flowing. My writing feels like an unfolding lawn chair.

So I hope the conference will just generally give me good vibes and unlock the creative juices. Also, I hope it’s worth the many days of parenting payback awaiting me. Not only will Sir Monkeypants be on his own for two bedtimes, bath day, and several meals, but he also has several sports events to work around AND two birthday parties to squeeze in there. Although I have come to terms with the fact that I am not completely indispensable around here, it’s a tough weekend to be single-parenting and I’m grateful.

In any case, I just wanted to mention here that I’ll be there, so if you’ll be there, please come and say hello. I am terribly, terribly wallflower shy in crowds, I am likely to be skulking around the edges of the event wearing an awkward-creepy smile and holding out my business card wordlessly, like the Hot-And-Ready girl who stands outside Tiny Tim’s pizza trying desperately to get passers-by to take a flyer already so she can finish her stack and go home and lie down, dammit.

(I feel for the Hot-And-Ready girl.)

See you there!

Last night, doing BrainQuest with Gal Smiley:

Question: I’m 9 years old and my dad is 47. How old will my dad be when I am 21?

Gal Smiley: He’ll be dead.

Naturally!

I’ve been working my way through The Lord Of The Rings movies on DVD with the Captain these past few weeks. It’s part reward for his hard work reading The Hobbit, and part to ensure he is not socially stunted at school, as it seems EVERY other person in his class has seen them, and he is getting tired of laughing at Merry and Pippin jokes as if he actually understands what they mean.

I had forgotten how chock-full those movies are of delightfully warm-blooded men. Uh-huh.

Here’s Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn. Normally I’m not a big fan of his, but when Aragorn is taking on all nine Nazgul single-handedly, that’s pretty magical. And the way he looks intently into Arwen’s eyes is pretty magical. And the way he maintains a perfect 3-day stubble even though they are wandering the countryside with no food and water is awfully magical. Mmm.

This is Orlando Bloom as Legolas. Poor Orlando never did live up to the major heartthrob expectations that The Lord Of The Rings trilogy set out for him. However, we can all still enjoy the way he turned Legolas from a fairly average character in the book into an Earthbound Angel with Flashing Dark Eyes in the movies. Not to mention the fact that effective use of a bow and arrow is a little…suggestive. Mmmm.

Here’s Sean Bean as Boromir. His stringy hair and pointed nose are not really my thing. However, I always found Boromir’s flawed character to be one of the most interesting in the book, and he did a great job in the movie. So I’d at least have him over for dinner, is what I’m saying, and we’ll see what happens.

Now let us consider Karl Urban as Eomer. I had completely forgotten he was in these movies. For shame! I pretty much find Karl Urban to be witty and smart and super charismatic at all times. Add in long blonde hair and – yeow.

This is David Wenham as Faramir, Boromir’s brother. I’d completely forgotten about him as well, and that’s so very wrong considering he’s the cuter half of the sibling pair. Also: super sensitive, kind, thoughtful, and brave. And, he ends up with Eowyn, who rocks the house and is my favourite character in the whole series. He’s SO dreamy.

Lastly: am I the only one who finds Hugo Weaving as Elrond to be totally sexy? Oh, just me then? Um…nevermind.

Gal Smiley has been invited to a sleepover, and it’s causing me some anxiety.

It’s not the first sleepover invite she’s received. Last year, when she was in grade 2, she made friends with a girl in her class who is very, very, into sleepovers. Early in the year she started inviting the Gal for sleepovers.

This girl seemed perfectly nice and her parents seemed perfectly nice but we were a little nervous about the concept. Gal Smiley was into it, make no mistake about it, but we were the ones holding back. She just seemed too young. We didn’t know the family at all. It was a big step and we were not ready for it.

So we deferred, made excuses. The Gal went over for playdates, but we picked her up before bedtime. Still, the friend continued to press for a sleepover, making elaborate invites detailing all the plans she had for this epic event. I started to feel really guilty about saying no all the time, when it was clearly so important to other girl, and her parents really went out of their way to make us feel secure about the whole thing.

So when spring rolled around and we got one more invite – this time for the girl’s actual birthday – we decided to go for it. Everything was great, Gal Smiley got zero sleep but had an amazing time, all good.

Of course, she was invited for a sleepover the very next week. That girlfriend likes her sleepovers. We went back to making excuses.

Now it’s a new year and a new grade and two weeks in, we got our first lovingly handcrafted, extremely detailed invitation for a sleepover. GAH.

I can no longer tell if I am being a paranoid, helicopter parent, or if I’m being remotely reasonable. I’m out of excuses and I can’t really explain that I have to say no, even when both girls are excited about the idea, because it’s just too much for me, as a parent. When I was a kid, I had exactly two sleepovers, both in Grade 5, both with a girl who was my super most excellent bestest friend ever, and we were inseparable. They were amazing, but clearly defined special events. Unique experiences that would not be repeated on a weekly basis. Have times changed?

I think I am having some kind of knee-jerk reaction where I fear Gal Smiley being slowly enveloped into another family. They are more than happy to have her sleep over every weekend. But it’s not okay for me. Sorry, Gal.

I am acutely aware lately of how fleeting these days are with my children. Of course, they’ll always be my babies, but these times when I tuck them in at night with a story and a hug, then see their sleepy eye-rubbing first thing each morning, are precious and few. I love my mom and would consider us close, but the truth is I have not lived at home since I was 18 years old, and now that I live a seven hour drive away and have three kids of my own, I only see her three times a year for a couple days at a time. Maybe someday I’ll be cool with that, but while I have the chance to keep my own children close, I’m going to take it.

I like the feeling of curling up on the couch at night knowing all my kids are snug in their beds. I like the feeling of us all being together, safe in our home. I like the feeling that my family is still intact, just us, together.

Is that weird?

I used to think I’d be the kind of mom that welcomed every kid in the neighbourhood over. Who kept an open door policy, and our house would be full of my own kids, and their friends, and their friends’ friends, while I kept everyone full of cookies and apple juice (while wearing a really cute 50s style apron, of course). Now I fear I am the exact opposite – I want my family here and everyone else out there.

I know it can’t last forever – but why rush them out the door?

So for this week’s invitation – we decided not this time. Playdate, dinner, okay. Sleepover – not okay. I’m sorry, Gal – I know you’d love to go. I know this other family is kind and nice and would love to have you sleepover.

But I am going to be selfish. This time, the next time, and for as long as I can hold on.

So Blissdom Canada is coming up in a few weeks. Whenever there is a big blogging conference approaching, I go through this cycle:

1. Get excited, imagine how fun it will be, imagine attending.
2. Pay attention to when tickets go on sale, monitor the situation closely, load up the ticket buying page.
3. Chicken out, don’t buy ticket, watch it sell out.
4. See people on Twitter and Facebook talk about what they are packing and who they are rooming with and how thrilled they are, and get bitterly jealous.
5. Read people’s tweets from the conference and see their blissfully happy child-free photos and feel extra bitter.
6. Read people’s joyful post-conference posts and feel totally disconnected from the entire community and vow to give up blogging forever.
7. Sulk around the house for a couple of weeks before reading something funny on someone’s blog and deciding not to give it up quite yet.

Repeat.

I have been blogging for over 10 years and have never been to a conference, but I am seriously trying to talk myself into going to Blissdom this year, just for the experience.

Here’s how serious I am: I told my husband about it. That’s MAJOR, people.

However, I still haven’t made any actual plans to actually attend or anything.

Still, the hope is there. Baby steps.