Chosen – Dad 2.0 Summit

Last week I was contacted by Doug French, founder of the Dad 2.0 Summit , who let me know that I had been chosen as a Blogger Spotlight Reader for this year’s conference in New Orleans. My initial reactions were shock and humility. “Me? Why me? How? How is this possible?” I actually asked Doug that as we spoke on the phone and he said that he enjoyed my blog and thought I had an important voice. I was told my ticket to the conference would be paid for and that to help save money, Doug would help me find someone with whom I could share a hotel room. Was I willing to go? As we spoke and I stammered my responses, nervousness flooded my veins and my chest felt as if it had been dipped in liquid nitrogen, like a little poke in the ribs would shatter me to pieces. I told Doug I’d have to look into flights and see about that hotel roommate and ask if I could get Sienna coverage and most importantly, see if could overcome my anxiety. Doug said that was fine and to let him know as soon as I could.

The first thing I did – and this is highly significant – was contact Danny Giardino, a friend I’d met through the NYC Dads Group, who had offered to split a room with me when I was debating going to conference a few months ago. I asked if the room was still available. It was and since the first 2 nights were comped, the total cost for my stay would be negligible. Why is this so significant? Because I actually did something instead of crawling into bed and shaking. I took initiative in solving a rooming situation.

Next I contacted my mom about Sienna coverage. She told me she was proud of me and said she and my dad would absolutely be able to watch Sienna on Thursday and Friday. Again significant because I problem-solved.

Then, despite my sense of dread at how things were falling into place, I searched for flights and found one that was doable money-wise. Non-stop both ways on JetBlue.

I then called Elaine and stammered my way through letting her know that I’d been chosen, that the founder of the Dad 2.0 Summit (described on its homepage as  “an open conversation about the commercial power of dads online, and an opportunity to learn the tools and tactics used by influential bloggers to create high-quality content, build personal brands, and develop business ideas”), had read my blog and wanted me to read from it in front of a large audience of fellow Dad Bloggers and marketers and real go-getters in the At-Home Dad community, people so unlike myself, people who don’t cost their child a few hours in the park because they’re too anxious to go outside. Elaine, like my mom, was proud of me, but knowing my anxiety level must be through the roof, she said we’d talk about it when we got home.

As I said earlier, I had debated going to the conference a few months ago, but I felt that I’d be overwhelmed by the marketing and business aspects as well a fear of feeling completely inadequate in the face of so many seasoned bloggers, people whose work is so much better than my own. I’d gone back and forth and back and forth and finally decided it would be too much for me…maybe next year when I’d have done more writing and had a lot more therapy. Now I was being invited by the founder himself and the dominoes were falling leading me to a date in New Orleans in late January.

I called my best friends who told me I absolutely have to go, that is an opportunity of a lifetime and I’d regret it forever if I didn’t answer that knock. I texted my therapist who said the same.

A few hours later after Elaine had come home and we talked a bit more I booked the damn flight before I could change my mind. I took a massive leap, something I almost never do. I let Doug know that I accepted the honor and would indeed be there and he wrote back: “Great news! Thanks again for doing this. You’ll be great. I know it.” I also peppered him with anxiety-related questions: What do I wear? Do I have to look professional? I normally wear jeans and a baseball cap (Aside – I had planned to write about the meaning behind my cap today, but this popped up instead). What happens if I become overwhelmed? Can I leave for a bit? Take a walk? Do I wait for an official announcement? (The announcement was posted today.) I apologized for the frenzied questions and said I hate my brain to which Doug responded, “Don’t hate your brain too much. It’s the reason you write as well as you do.” I didn’t know what to say to that.

My sister- and brother-in-law live in Baton Rouge and want to be there for moral support, but I don’t know if they’d need to pay to see me read. Even if they can’t make it to the conference itself, they want to take the trip to drive me from and to the airport to which I said they’re nuts and was told that they’re a nutty family.

I can tell you that I’m scared out of my mind. I’m terrified of the marketing aspects. I’m frightened I’ll feel eclipsed by the other bloggers there. I’m nervous I’ll feel very alone even though Doug and others have told me that people look out for each other at the Summit, that it’s a community of friendly faces. I’m even afraid I’ll unwittingly walk by Madame Marie Delphine LaLaurie’s mansion (she being the infamous, sadistic slave torturer currently being portrayed by Kathy Bates on American Horror Story: Coven) and I’ll see one of those weird orbs people claim appear when they take photo of the place (ok, I’ll confess, I actually do want to visit the mansion – anyone up for a New Orleans nighttime ghost tour?). I’m anxious people will feel I wasn’t deserving of this honor, that I’m not good enough, that I’ll discover I’m not cut out to be a Dad Blogger. I’m scared I won’t have Elaine with me.

But…I did take those steps to see if I could go and I did it on all my own. That means something. That means a lot. I’m proud of myself for that. And I’m proud I took a leap I don’t think I could have taken even a few months ago. Plus I’ve never been to New Orleans. If there’s time, I’d like to see a few things. I’m also looking forward to meeting so many people who have been supportive of my writing since I joined the Dad Bloggers group. Already some of these fellow bloggers such as Carter Gaddis, Kevin McKeever, John Kinnear have posted personal congrats to me on FB as have people I already know including Lance Somerfield, Jason Greene and Sat Sharma.

I’m nervous as hell, but I’m not letting my anxiety hold me back. Not this time. It’s probably not going to leave me, but come January 30th, we’ll be together at the Dad 2.0 Summit in New Orleans.

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Growth

I’ve always hated New Year’s Eve. I become way too focused on another year gone, another year closer to death, another year in which I still have not met my warped definition of success. I find it especially hard to concentrate on what I have and instead watch all these people celebrating surviving to see an arbitrary turn on the clock. For years I’ve become more sullen and depressed the closer we get to Dick Clark’s favorite holiday (just as I do my birthday since its “meaning” is in a similar vein). I don’t know how I’m going to do tomorrow. It’s going to be quiet here in our apartment – just Elaine, Sienna and myself. I’ll be with the most important people  in my life and I hope I can engross myself in that. Regardless, rather than spend this post being all pessimistic, I want to write about something that happened yesterday, something that made me realize that I have indeed improved mentally since my last nervous breakdown in January 2010. Yesterday I leased a new car.

I know that doesn’t sound like much, but the last time my lease was up I went through one of the most embarrassing experiences of my life. It was early 2011 and we were still living in New Jersey. Knowing it was a little over 3 months before my lease matured, I drove out to my usual Honda dealership (I was on second Civic), walked through the door and stood frozen looking at the bustling showroom and all the salespeople I figured would take advantage of me because I had so little knowledge about real world things like leasing a car and because I didn’t know how to play the game. Anxiety squeezed my heart with an icy grip. Sweat poured down my face. I walked up to the receptionist desk and stammered something unintelligible. Then, shaking, I burst into tears and ran out the door.

In the end my parents wound up having to drive out from Queens to help me thrash out the new lease. I barely spoke during the process. When I did I stuttered. My hands and legs shook. I didn’t wail or anything, but tears formed in my eyes and sometimes silently slid down my cheeks. I sat listening as my parents tried to get me the best deal, my mind black with thoughts and feelings of frailty and failure. I was 37 years old. A 37-year-old man (I still have difficulty considering myself a “man” as I so often feel like a child) who couldn’t take the pressure of signing a new car lease by himself and instead had to rely on his parents.

Flash forward 2 years and 6 months. I’m at a Honda dealership in Queens since we no longer live in Jersey. My father’s with me. This time I do most of the talking and ask most of the questions. The salesperson’s extremely affable and low key which looking back I think helped, but the fact is I I’m able to joke with him about how ludicrous it is that the color “grey” becomes “Urban Titanium.” My father plays the game a bit and gets him down a few bucks a month (“I like round numbers,” my dad says). But really, it’s my deal and it’s hell of a lot better than my last lease. I put less money down. They buy out my remaining payments and any existing car damage. And I’m paying $38 less a month while getting new features like bluetooth, a rear camera, automatic headlight shutoff and of course that cool Urban Titanium exterior. My hands never shake. My eyes remain clear. I smile and laugh. I never stutter…not even once. I feel no anxiety. Zero. I need to acknowledge that and even say so to my father while still at the dealership.

My dad keeps my mom updated the entire time and as we drive home he tells me how proud of me the 2 of them are. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to hearing those words, a phrase I’d craved hearing my whole life. My initial reaction is always to refute compliments because I feel somehow undeserving. But as I think about it, I really have come a long way. Two years and 6 months ago I entered a similar situation and was a wreck completely reliant on my parents to get me through it. This time I was in control of both myself and the negotiation. My dad noted I he felt I didn’t even need him there as all he did was save me about $24 bucks a year. The more I think about it, the more I realize he’s right and the more I realize I’ve grown.

I don’t know what feelings New Year’s Eve will bring, but I do know today I’ll go pick up my new car. I know my mind will try to contradict reality, but I’ll battle because I’ve evolved. I have fact on my side. Zero anxiety while leasing a car? That is clear personal growth.

Blog Anxiety 2 – “Dad Bloggers”

Today is the first birthday of Dad Bloggers, a terrific Facebook group currently 523 strong that I joined right before writing my blog “Tumbling From the Moon and Getting Back Up” about my sadness in feeling so puny in the blog world and my need for “Raising Sienna” to TAKE OFF NOW!! And while my blog hasn’t shot into outer space, I have gained some new readership (I think, I don’t know my numbers) and some new friends. Dad Bloggers is a terrific community and I congratulate Oren Miller, founder of the page and author of “A Blogger and a Father,” but it’s also overwhelming for someone like myself. I’ve posted three more blogs since joining the group (my mind’s screaming, “NOT ENOUGH!”). At times I feel like I can’t keep up with the site, that I’m drowning, that I’m in competition with 523 (and growing bloggers), some of whom have been doing this for years, many of whom I feel are so much talented than me. In addition, dads post links to current dad-related media like advertising or articles which tend to make feel like I’m late to the party (especially having a masters in media studies), that I should have blogged about these things before anyone even noticed them. That’s irrational, of course, but it’s another example of living inside this head of mine. So rather than continue to lament these feelings I wanted to talk about what I’ve done to work through my blog anxiety:

  • Joining the group was a huge step in itself. It’s something that I’d never have done in the past. I would have stared at the page for awhile, clicked on some other site and chastised myself for being a coward. So I have to acknowledge that I grew just by joining
  • Seeing all of these dads and their respective blogs made me realize I’m not ready to go to the Dads 2.0 Summit at the end of January. If I’m overwhelmed by this page, there’s no way I’ll be able to handle a conference dedicated to dad bloggers, media and sponsorship. And you know what? That’s not such a bad thing. It doesn’t mean I won’t be ready in 2014. It just means I’m not ready now.
  • While really stressing about how often many of the group members post, I wrote to an author friend of mine, Caren Lissner, whose excellent first novel, Carrie Pilby, is soon to be a movie. Caren’s been a big supporter of my mine and she told me exactly what I needed to hear: “I think a lot of bloggers have that problem – once they start, they feel bad if they don’t post regularly. A week is not very long to wait. I think a week is good! You can even do a post saying that there may be a week or two between posts at times. A blog shouldn’t be a nightmare; it’s YOUR blog, not a job.” This current blog would not have been written without Caren’s advice about blogging about how I get freaked out because I feel I’m not blogging enough. Thank you, Caren!
  • I had the guts to write, via FB, to a couple of Dad Bloggers’ major contributors to ask for advice. This is something I never would have done before. I asked John Kinnear, author of “Ask Your Dad,” if he was intimidated when he first joined and he responded thusly (sorry, I’m still not great working with WordPress so not sure how to indent): “Nope, but mainly because I didn’t know how many heavy hitters there are in this group. Once I found out who the big guns were, I was already friends with them and didn’t really feel the need to impress. Neither should you man. We all have blogs of various sizes and honestly, traffic shouldn’t be your first goal. Write what you love, what makes your feel, what makes you laugh, and what makes you a better dad. Make sure you share it so people can find you. Respond to comments. Comment on other blogs. Make friends. Your audience will find you over time.” Those words made feel much better because I was obsessing over traffic. I further asked him how often he posts and he said he tries to post once a week. That gels completely with what Caren had told me and made me feel a lot better. Thanks again, John!
  • I even had the courage to write to Oren Miller himself, founder of the Dad Bloggers group, and he told me: “There are a lot of people there, but I think most of them, including the more successful ones, know that there’s a lot of great writing from smaller blogs, and it’s often the smaller blogs that really speak the truth (it’s easy to lose your way once you start dealing with promotions and reviews).” Again, that helped settle me down. Thanks again, Oren!
  • Taking all of this advice into consideration, I’ve been “liking” and commenting on as many blogs that touch me as I can, and have been making some friends. Whenever I feel overwhelmed by the amount of content pouring in, I click away and count to ten. It doesn’t always work, but I do it as much as possible.
  • Caren, John and Oren also reiterated something my therapist has been trying to drill into my head for years: not everything I write has to be timely. If I still want to write about “Breaking Bad,” for instance, I can. So I thank all three and my therapist for that advice.

I still obsess over about what to blog; I have an idea for one, for instance, with which I’ve been really struggling. It’s kept me up late the last few evenings. Tonight I’ll take a melatonin in hopes it’ll quiet my brain. And I’ll say this now, something else I probably never would have said before: I’ll get to it eventually.

Joining Dad Bloggers has been tough, but rewarding, and I wish Oren and his group a very happy birthday, continued success and many, many new members. It’s definitely made a difference in my life just by the fact that I’ve been able to write this here blog. I like knowing that there are people I can turn to should my brain start getting the best of me, maybe even some who suffer anxiety and depression like myself. As I said about the characters in Silver Linings Playbook, sometimes the best help you can get comes from people who truly understand you. It’s clear I’ve found a few.