She had been waiting for this all day long. "When daddy comes home, we're going to make our confetti craft, right mom? "How much longer til daddy gets home because I am so excited to make my confetti craft!" All day long, she talked about it.

Daddy came home. "Can we do our craft now?"

"After dinner, mama." He answered.

Dinner was over and she immediately ran to her room to get the toilet paper rolls she had been saving. I gathered the supplies we'd need and we both set them up on the table.

"I'm so excited!" She would say. "Me too!" I'd say.

We began to prep, carefully checking the supply list. Within a minute I realized we'd forgotten to buy a tool we didn't have on hand-- a crafting needle. My husband, ever the genius, was all "never fear! I can make one! Out of a nail." Myself, ever the doubter, scoffed at him. "A crafting needle out of a NAIL? How?" "Don't you worry about it. I'll go make one."

After 18 years of being married to him, one would think I'd stop doubting him. He has a solution for every problem, big and small. (Unless we're talking about "money problems." But every other problem, he will fix it. He has tools and he's not afraid to use them!)

G followed him into the garage, while I sat at the table waiting, with the laptop open, mocking him on twitter.

He returned 5 minutes later with the solution to our problem.

After we had all of the supplies we needed, we started to make the confetti rockets. We were cutting, gluing, measuring all the while talking, being silly and laughing.

It was wonderful, really, the 3 of us, in our crafting bliss, but then I realized we needed tape. Tony went to find a roll of tape, while G and I continued cutting and gluing. He found a brand new roll and brought it to us. "I'll open it, Daddy." G said. "Oh, no, baby girl. Daddy will do it. It'll be too hard for you."

And that is when all hell broke loose.

He opened the tape, she got upset and started to cry. He didn't realize what the big deal was, really. "Honey, it would have been to hard for you, that's why daddy opened it. Come on, let's finish our craft."

"But I'm a big girl daddy! I can DO HARD THINGS!"

Not intentionally trying to hurt her, I laughed while looking at Tony. "She's so independent. She wants to do everything herself. That's what happens when you doubt her ability to do something."

She didn't find it as amusing as we did.

She ran to the sofa, picked up a picture of a unicorn that she has colored for me. She had taken so much time on that picture, being careful to stay in the lines and "choose beautiful colors for mommy." She held the picture in the air and ripped it in half.

"I wanted to open the tape!" She cried as she ran towards the trash can. She opened it up, threw the picture in the trash and slammed the lid down.

My immediate reaction was to be angry with her. She was acting like a brat. I completely understood why she was upset in the first place. But the resulting Dramatics were over the top.

She walked over to the table and sat down. I frowned at her, because I wasn't happy with what she had done. She looked up at me and said "are you sad that I tore your picture?" Then she hung her head down in shame. She got very quiet. And then, she broke.

"That was the picture that I made for you, because I love you. I'm sorry I ripped it and threw it away."

She realized that she had done something that wasn't very nice. And she was remorseful.

I picked her up and hugged her. "I loved that picture, G. I wish you hadn't ripped it and thrown it away. But I know you were angry and sometimes we do things we shouldn't when we're angry."

In that moment, I knew exactly what she felt like. I've done things I immediately wish I hadn't when I was angry with a someone that I loved. I've said the most hurtful thing I could think of out of spite, I've thrown things, I've hung up on people.

She apologized, I forgave her. We hugged, she and her daddy hugged and we all took a few deep breaths so we could refocus. We all decided it was best if we put things away and finished the craft tomorrow. It was late, we were tired and even the girl agreed it would be best to go to sleep and come back to finish when we were nice and rested up.

Tony took her into the bathroom to brush her teeth while I began to pick up the mess we had made. I gathered a handful of trash, opened up the trashcan and saw the torn, wrinkled picture. I got all choked up when I saw it there. I remembered her little fingers working for hours to make that for me. I remember how proud she was when she finished it and handed it over to me. "I made this JUST for you, Mommy. And look! I stayed in the lines!" I picked up the pieces out of the trash. I began to put it back together. Then, I carefully taped it together. I smoothed it out as much as I could. By the time I was finished, you could barely tell what had happened earlier.

I couldn't wait to show her. I put it behind my back and walked into the bathroom where she was still brushing her teeth.

"I have a surprise for you." I said, in the same way she did when she first gave it to me.

I pulled the picture out and held it up.

Her eyes got THIS BIG. "My picture!" She screamed. "But, how did you fix it?" She asked, slightly bewildered. "I just taped it up in the back, see?" I showed her where I had put the tape.

A smile swept across her face. She ran over and hugged me. "Thank you Mommy. I love you and I promise I'll never rip it ever again."

Being a parent is so unpredictable. One minute, you're happily cutting tissue paper, stringing beads with twine. The next you're holding your weeping daughter in your arms, knowing what you say or do in that very moment will impact her delicate heart, mind and soul for days if not years to come. You do your best to make the correct choice in your response, take a deep breath and trust that it was the right one. And if it's not, you own up to it, you say you're sorry and vow to do better next time.

I think this time, I did the right thing.

BlogHer 09 is less than one month away. Everywhere I go, I see posts and tweets about how nervous people. Will they feel left out? Will they get snubbed by The Populars? What will they wear? Oh, the anxiety!

I remember how nervous I was the first year that I went. I worried about the same things I'm seeing pop up on twitter. But decided I wasn't going to let those fears keep me from having a good time. I was going to MAKE MY OWN FUN! And do you know what? That's exactly what I did. I made the experience my own. When a friend had to ditch me to go to the Super Exclusive Hotel Room Part-ay, I didn't allow myself to feel hurt or bitter. There was entire group of interesting people I could mingle and get to know outside!

I ended up having the BEST time, meeting fabulous women. And I know that sounds so cheesy, but it's the truth.

After that first year, I realized there was nothing to be nervous about. (Well, with the exception of THE PLANE RIDE BECAUSE OH MY GOD JESUS HELP ME IN THE SKY!!) Each year I have made new friends, hung out with old friends and made memories that will make me smile and, in some cases, Make Sweet Pee Pee, for the rest of my life. So, I'd like to share my Top 10 BlogHer Memories with you. If you've been to BlogHer and would like to do the same, please do and make sure to link back to it in the comments so I can come read yours!

#10 Getting punched by Jen Lancaster.

I had known Jen (online) for a couple of years before I met her at the 2007 Chicago conference. I was more than just a little bit excited to know I would finally get a chance to meet her in person. At the first cocktail party, I kept asking everyone that I talked to "have you seen Jen Lancaster?" It was kind of sad, because I had "bulging discs" and literally could not turn my head, so I had to rely on others to be on the lookout for her. I was on the "dance floor" watching Oh, The Joys, Bossy and Casey dance it up when out of the BLUE, I hear someone say "OH MY GOD, YOU ARE SUCH A LIAR, YOU ARE NOT FAT!" followed by a "POW" right on my arm. It was Jen. And she had just a) called me a lair b) punched me. I love telling people that Jen Lancaster punched me!

#9 Getting a text message from Heather B (also, discovering my phone had texting capabilities!)

It was my first BlogHer experience and I was nervous as I walked through the doors of the conference room after just having arrived from the airport. I received a text, so I opened it up. I didn't recognize the number... the message said something like "OMG I just saw you walk by." I was all "um, hi! who is this?" And she was all "It's Heather B" and I was all "OMG. where are you at?" And she was all "by the pool!" So I ran out the door, headed for the pool where I not only met Heather, but also Chris, Mir and Carmen. Who knew that would be the beginning of the kind of friendship where we were comfortable doing things like this:

#8- The Unexpected and Terrifying "Ride" Elevator Ride at the St.Regis Hotel.

When Lindsay and I first stepped into the elevator, I may have said something like "Oh, look, it's glass, you can see outside!" I think I was so in awe of the pretty view, that I may have forgotten to push the button to choose a floor. WHOOPS. All of a sudden, the elevator shot up, then came flying back down again, then back up again, then down again. I was trying to hold my shit together (had I been alone, I would have been all "JESUS SAVE ME I'M SORRY FOR EVERYTHING!") so as not to look like a jackass, but then Lindsay, Ms. CoolCalmAndCollected kind of started freaking out so I was all "What the hell? THIS IS THE WORST!" We realized we hadn't chose a floor, corrected our mistake and all was well with the world again.

#7 - Kicking back in the FURNITURE DEPARTMENT at MACY'S drinking wine and talking with Glennia and Maria and many, many others.

No, seriously, there was a part-ay INSIDE OF Macy's. And the party moved from one floor to the other, one of the floors was the home furnishings floor. They had the book signing for Sleep is for the Week there. I can't even express to you the panic I felt in my soul watching people sit on the white couches with their glasses of wine. NUTS, I tell you.

#6 Getting my hair and make up done by a professional. Named Jesus.

This is not only one of my top Blogher Memories, but one of the best memories of MY LIFE. I was doing an interview with Leah Peah for Alpha Mom. I had no idea there would be someone there who would do my makeup. Nor did I have any idea his name would be JESUS. And it wasn't pronounced like every other person who I had ever known in my life named Jesus (Hey-Soos.) It was actually pronounced "JESUS!" I can't even begin to describe the joy I felt in my soul when I got to say "Thank you for making me look so pretty, Jesus."

#5- Crashing a Part-ay!

We had heard that Rhymes with Meal Pimple was having a party. So, we were all "let's go check it out." When we got there, The Meal Pimple people were all like "this was an invite only party." And we were all "oh, we weren't invited, we just came to check it out." And they were all "that's okay! Go ahead and grab a name tag and write your name on the back." And so we were all "OKAY! Awesome! Thank you!" We entered the room and were immediately served a delicious dinner that I still think about every now and then. After dinner was over, we sat in an area in the back of the room where we quietly sipped on drinks from the Open Bar. I began to suspect that EVEN THOUGH they had invited us in, they weren't happy about us being there. Something about them picking up the Swag Bags and HIDING THEM FROM US just made me think that MAYBE, we weren't as welcome as we were led to believe. The hiding of the Swag Bags was followed by a not so loving suggestion that we were "FREE TO TAKE OUR CONVERSATION OUTSIDE." and also by a very personalized announcement that "Ladies? THE BAR IS NOW CLOSED."

#4 Sleeping with Amalah

It's not as sexy as it sounds. After the cocktail party, I joined Amy in her room for a little after party with HeatherB, Jen and Becky. (If I left someone out, I'm sorry!!) I remember ordering pizza and wine. I remember laughing, A LOT. I remember being forced into doing The Worm. And the next thing you know, it was 4 am and I woke up in Amy's bed in a pool of drool and with severe After Too Much Alcohol Shits. I was seriously like OH MY GOD THIS CAN NOT HAPPEN IN AMALAH'S ROOM. THIS SIMPLY CAN NOT HAPPEN. But it was happening and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I ran to the bathroom, where my ass proceed to explode. I must have done 20 Courtesy Flushes, but they were not "helping" if you know what I'm saying and I think that you do. I needed air freshener (and quite possibly towels to lay in front of the opening at the bottom of the bathroom door.) In a moment of panic, I reached for one of Amy's hair products and began to spray. SPRAY SPRAY SPRAY. It helped a little, but not much. As soon as I felt like the worst of it was over, I knew I had to make a mad dash out of there before she woke up. I washed my hands, closed the bathroom door behind me. I crawled on my hands and knees to feel the floor for my shoes. Once I found them, I took off RUNNING from her room, barely making it back to mine to finish what I had started in Amy's bathroom.

#3- Drinking a beer with Miss Zoot.

I don't like beer, but I love love LOVE Miss Zoot, so when she told me she wanted a beer, but felt awkward about having one (because everyone else was drinking Girly Girl Drinks) I was all "I'll have a beer with you!" I loved being able to do something with her, that made her feel at ease. That's what friends are for, man. For drinking beers with.

#2 CheeseburgHer Party!

If you've not heard the story, you can read how it all started here. So many memories from the first and second one. People eating bean dip WHILE SITTING ON OUR PILLOWS. Serious Conversations With Bags on Heads. "We're just writers, sir." security threatening to EVICT US, but then laughing about and posing for pictures in the hallway while trying to get rid of the 100's of people in our room. There isn't anything I haven't loved about those parties. I can't wait for this years.

#1 Reading at the First Annual Community Keynote.

I was stunned when I received an email informing me a post of mine had been submitted and chosen for this event. I hadn't submitted it. (Thought about submitting something, but was terrified at the thought of reading in front of 1,000 people.) I was flattered to have been selected, but also terrified. I had absolutely no idea that it would be a life changing event. I know that sounds Very Dramatic, but it's the truth. I stood up there, barefoot and trembling and read words that were deeply personal and painful. The paper shook as my hands trembled. I felt a lump rise in my throat and tears form in my eyes as I read. I also felt the love and support of every single person that room and that is what kept me from losing it entirely. When I finished, people cheered. I couldn't see the faces, but numerous people approached me after it was over to tell me that they had cried as I read. That they related to the words that I spoke. It was amazing and I am grateful for having been given the chance to be a part of such an incredible event.

Honorable Mentions:

Singing in the bathroom with Jenny (The Bloggess)

The cab ride to the airport after BlogHer07 in which Lena was a liiiiiiiiittle sick and not in the mood to talk, but I couldn't help myself and kept talking anyway. EVEN AFTER she turned her head away from me and said things like "please stop talking." Also, the plane ride home, in which we argued about whether the creature in the ocean on the tv screen was a whale or a shark and I was all "OBVIOUSLY, you've never been to Sea World" and some business dude couldn't help himself, turned around and corrected me. But, you had to be there, I think. Actually, pretty much EVERY SINGLE MOMENT with Lena. I love her.

Meeting Amy Sedaris AND making her laugh.

Walking into to the lobby of the W in Chicago and seeing WOMEN DOING THE WORM. I'm looking at you, Jessica.

I could go on for hours-- so many wonderful memories. So many beautiful people.

In conclusion: BlogHer is kick ass fun and you really don't have anything to be nervous about. You WILL make friends, you will find Your Tribe and have a good time. I promise you.

That you can enter to win a Bedtime Kit (worth over $250) and the grand prize-- one of two $2,500 room makeovers. Go here now to enter.

Yesterday was one of the most beautiful mornings I can remember.

The sky was a perfect shade of blue, the clouds were white as cotton. The air was crisp and cool, but the sun was shining brightly. It was breathtaking, really.

I pushed back the curtains to let the rising sun light up the house. I opened every window in the house at 6:30 in the morning to let the cool, fresh air in. I sat in front of the window, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Sometimes I feel like I'm fighting to catch my breath. It felt good to sit there, to relax and enjoy the moment.

I'm having a rough time right now. I won't elaborate except to say I'm feeling overwhelmed with things.

I'm doing the best that I can-- using techniques that I learned to deal with anxiety and stress. It helps get me through each day.

And really, right now, that's what I'm doing. Just trying to get through each day, hoping each night as I lay my head on my pillow to go to sleep that tomorrow is the day I don't have to remind myself to breathe.

I regret publishing the previous post. I wish I had waited until we had kissed and made up. That way, I could have written something I was proud of. Sigh.

In any case, we ended up having a wonderful day with our children and really, that's all that matters.

Lately, it seems I'm a constant disappointment to the people in my life.

Let's take today for example. I called my Dad this morning, 20 minutes before his service started, to wish him a Happy Fathers Day and to tell him I wanted to come over after church to bring him his present. "All morning I thought you were going to surprise me and come to church... that's all I wanted. That would have been the best present in the world."

Guess who was still in their pajamas? And who had no intention on going to church?

I hung up with my Dad, feeling awful, knowing I had disappointed hm yet again. That is when my husband thought it would be a good time to remind me for the 15th time that I didn't give my Grandma a card for her birthday. He kept going on and on about it until I got pissed off and fought back with anger and tears. "How many birthday cards did you give YOUR Grandma while she was alive?" (The answer? NONE.) He was quick to point out the only reason I said such an ugly thing was "out of guilt" and to try to make myself feel better.

I wanted to write a heartfelt post for my husband for Fathers Day, but it's not easy to do when I'm hurt and angry with him. But no matter how I feel about him right this very moment, I must acknowledge what an incredible father he is to our children. He always put his children first and I've never once heard him complain about how hard he works every day of his life to make sure they're taken care of. He's patient, compassionate and creative. Our children love him deeply and they are aware of how lucky they are to have such a dedicated man as their father.

I wish I could do this morning all over again, but since I can't, I'll just say Happy Fathers Day, Tony. I still love you.

I still remember the very first time that I saw him.

June 19th, 2:47 pm.

When the nurse handed him over to me, I was in awe. I guess I expected him to look exactly like his brother did when he was born. But he looked completely different. Creamy white skin. Big ears, one folded over, pressed against his head. Tiny, squinted eyes, perfect little lips.

I had worried that I'd not have enough love to give to a second child. I loved my first baby so much, I couldn't imagine giving that love to another child. I think most mother's worry about that and I certainly was no different.

That fear melted the minute I laid eyes on him.

Corny as it may sound, I knew in the first few weeks of his life I knew there was something incredibly special and wonderful about my son.

He had the most amazing personality. And Oh! how he loved loved loved his Mama. As a baby, he could grab my face and give me slobbery wet kisses. As a toddler, he would climb up on my lap, hold my face in his hands and say things like "I just wuv you so much my booyeeful mommy!" And if anyone dared to be mean to me, he would tell them where they could shove it. Like the one time my brother was teasing me at dinner. E was only 3 years old. We were out to dinner with the family. My brother kept teasing me saying things like "What about that what time you did *insert mocking words.*" E had had enough. He stood up, walked over to my brother and said "HEY, WHAT ABOUT YOUR BUTT?!"

E always loved to spend time with me. He was my little shadow and man, was he ever a joy to have around. He could be difficult-- like, how he refused to wear plain t-shirts because "THEY ARE SO DUMB AND UGLY!" (when he was THREE.) but he could also be the sweetest, kindest, most considerate little person. I always knew where I stood with him. If he was mad, he would cross his precious little arms and say "I'm SO mad'tchu, Mommy!" Then, 5 minutes later, he'd wrap his arms around my legs and tell me how much he loved me and how I was the best mommy in the whole wide world.

Yesterday, that adorable little boy turned 12 years old. And even though he's older, not much has changed. Sure, he's older and more mature, but he's still that same tenderhearted boy at heart. He still lets me know when he's upset, but is always quick to tell me how much he loves me. He can hurt me deeply when he's angry at me, but can melt my heart with his kindness.

Hard to believe it's been 12 years since I first laid eyes on him. It takes my breath away every time he talks about how much he's looking forward to starting junior high in August.

Junior high.

I didn't post this yesterday because I've had the hardest time writing this post. Not because I don't love him, but because he's the most wonderful, unique, hilarious child in the world and I sob like a baby when I think of how wonderful our lives have been since he came along.

Happy Birthday, beautiful boy. Thank you for making me laugh so hard that it hurts on a daily basis. I love love love you.

What he looked like the morning he turned 12.

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