Ho ho hurrrgh

On Saturday we did a thing we should not have done. We went to the Toys R Us in Times Square.

If you live in New York, if you've ever visited New York, or if you have even a smidgen of sense you are wondering what might be wrong with us. "Don't go to the Toys R Us in Times Square on a Saturday, especially on a Saturday a few weeks before Christmas" is right up there in the Most Obvious Advice Category, right after "Don't do a Google Image Search for 'syphilis.'"

The answer is, I have no answer for you. We took leave of our senses. We were in the neighborhood, we were already suffering, and Saturday being the first day of Hanukkah, we thought we'd get a little something for Henry because usually I get him something and I forgot. We thought "How bad could it be, really?" and we shared that thought with one another, and the response that came back to us was not "Worse than you can possibly imagine in your worst nightmares." It was not "Hieronymus Bosch-like levels of horrible."

Like this, only waaaay more crowded.

Even Henry, who was pretty amped up about getting a Hanukkah gift, was like, "Mother? Father? We are leaving here and never returning." Unfortunately we had already entered, and were trapped in a sea of people. You can't paddle upstream, when it's people. You somehow find yourself on the up escalator, wondering if they really need to have the enormous animatronic T-Rex blasting and lurching like it's going to eat us and making the kids scream and you know what? I'm not writing about this anymore. It was horrible! The end!

The good news is we got out. And also we never have to go there ever again. But seriously, Toys R Us? You are not allowed to let your stores exceed maximum capacity. You are lucky no one was injured. Or maybe they were, and you stuffed them in your T-Rex? Either way, you are worse than terrible.

Let's forget all about Toys R Us. Let's watch Maymo, shall we? Hi Maymo!



Maymo always helps. And never hurts. Maymo is un-terrible.

What else? Well, my friends! WELL! I've got the second round of A Practice of Writing coming up, beginning January 14th. (Those of you paying attention will note that I changed the date from December 31st. Who starts a class on New Year's Eve? Honestly.) I will be opening registration this week. Get ready.

The Little Hater

Whenever I take an extended break from blogging, I try to avoid apologizing for it on my return. Because that's boring. This video by Jay Smooth, however, is not boring, and perfectly describes what's kept me from here. Thanks to Karen, my guru/role model, for sending it to me.

Yup. That's it. I think the lesson here is "don't take a break," but that's easier said than done.

I'd love to hear from you guys: does this happen to you? What do you do about it? In addition to the perfectionism/guilt spiral, I also begin to believe, without fail, that everyone is mad at me. Everyone! I realize this is insane, but the insane part of me still believes it.

More soon, including an ANNOUNCEMENT (all caps!) coming next week.

On the notion of blogging as a career

I want to do work I'm proud of, and only work I'm proud of. The work I'm proud of is not, by its nature, especially lucrative. That's fine with me; I always knew what I was getting myself into. I've always scraped together income on side jobs while I wrote what I wanted.

I started blogging eight years ago assuming a few of my friends would read it. A lot has happened since then. A lot of it has been amazing; most of that is thanks to the community I've found here. But I've also enjoyed plenty of opportunities thanks to advertising and sponsorships.

Still, I've been uncomfortable with the marriage of blogging and advertising. I'm okay with ads (obviously) as long as they stay in their place. But the advertisers want in. They want to get into your posts. It's not because they're evil. They're smart. They know where people are looking. But once they're paying you to write, you work for them. That's fine if you're a copywriter, but if your "copywriting" lands on your personal blog, that can get awfully weird. If your authenticity is being used to sell products, what does it mean, anymore?

You need to have clear boundaries to manage this terrain. You need to know what you're getting yourself into and what you're in it for. I'm not good at it, but even I've lucked out. I felt good about writing for Chronicle Books, for example. I liked their books. I had creative control over the video. It was a good fit.

I've turned down plenty of sponsorship opportunities that didn't fit. I don't want a pat on the back for those decisions; that's how it should be. But then a while ago I worked on a campaign I categorically did not feel good about. I put content on my blog that I would not have put on here if it were not for the check I was promised.

I'm not trying to be coy about which campaign it was. (You could probably guess, if you're a regular reader.) I don't want to point a finger at them;  everyone involved acted in good faith, and it's not like I couldn't have walked away. I just didn't. I apologize. I will make sure it never happens again.

Please know that I'm not saying that professional blogging is dishonest. Plenty of bloggers are far more business-savvy than I am and would not have gotten themselves into such an uncomfortable position. This is not about them, it's about me.

Professional blogging is not where my talents lie. It's not what this blog was meant for. I don't want to worry about my stats. I don't want to think about my Klout score. I don't want to be identified as a mommyblogger or a "power mom" or a mompreneur. I don't want to be an Influencer. I don't want to think about being "relevant," whatever that means. I want to write whatever I want to write, when I want to write it. Whatever dollars I collect from this place are nice, but they are and were always meant to be a few extra bucks, not an income we could live on.

This is not a call to arms, mind you. You do what you like. As I said, I know and respect plenty of people who are making a lot of money blogging. I never have, and never will.

Have you seen Bill Cunningham New York? You need to. I keep thinking about this quote:

"If you don't take money, they can't tell you what to do. That's the key to the whole thing."

Because when your kids are reading, they're not setting fire to things

This post is sponsored by Chronicle Books. Who doesn't like books? Nobody I'd like to know, is who.

I made this video today, and the thing you need to know is that my film-editor husband was working so I put this together in iMovie by MYSELF and I am quite proud of me. Also, that is a terrible freeze-frame. Although really, is there ever a good one?

Did you enjoy my use of the iMovie music? Scott is rolling his eyes, probably, or he will be, when he sees this. This is not what this post was supposed to be about. Reading! It's about reading.

The Worst-Case Scenario Ultimate Adventure Novels are Chronicle’s new series for kids. They are similar in format to your classic Choose Your Own Adventure books, but, I think, more appropriate for kids of Henry's age and sophistication.  (He wears a tux to bed.) Henry tore through all three of them within a week. There's one about the Amazon, one about Everest, and one that's Mars-themed. Here's the trailer for the Mars one. It's pretty great. (Almost as great as the video I recently created. Maybe you've heard of it? It's right up there.)

Want these books for a child in your life, or maybe for you? (I'm not going to judge you if you want them for yourself.) Leave a comment. What's the first book you remember falling in love (or at least deep like) with as a kid?  Tell me! I'll pick a winner at random.

I remember my first book-love all too clearly. It was a picture book. Each page featured photos: heaps of pastel cookies, climbed on by curious, fuzzy kittens. I don't remember the story. I just remember the cookies and kittens. The kittens and cookies. It was a magical, soft-focus and probably unhygienic world, and I wanted to be in it. Eating the cookies, owning the kittens. I hope I was a toddler when I had this book, but who knows? I might have been twelve. I was probably not twelve. But I can guarantee you that if I had found that book when I was twelve, I would have kept it, and maybe looked at it every night.

Update on May 4, 2012 by Alice

According to Random.org, our winner is...

Ann! She loved Where the Sidewalk Ends, and she is not wrong about that. I mean, it's no kittens and cookies, but it's pretty terrific.