Mark Segedie with “Baby Bookieboo.”
Blogging for a living is both strange and wonderful, and sometimes, it can be stressful on a relationship. Just ask Mark Segedie, the man behind Mamavation, blogger Leah Segedie‘s brilliant obesity prevention campaign for families championed by moms. (If you’re not familiar with her, start stalking now. You’ll thank me later.)
“Blogging is an interesting career path that adds entirely new dynamics to a relationship. I know this from first hand experience,” said Mark.
Wow. When I saw Mark’s intro to the interview questions he’d answered for me, I knew he GOT it. He’d been there. And he could help others. Because Mark isn’t just a supportive spouse, he’s an active part of Leah’s business. And it’s not just any small side business. In case …
I drifted off to sleep in the 6′ by 7′ room, feeling oddly safe in the small cocoon of a space. My bedroom was being remodeled, but I didn’t necessarily mind this new sleeping arrangement. It was just enough room for a twin bed, and a wire for hanging clothes. A cork board hung on the wall, with photos of school friends, and notes from best friends. I was 15. And about to experience one of the most terrifying nights of my life. The wall at the foot of my bed was filled with two old windows that rattled and shook in the wind. Branches from the thick elm tree outside would often scrape the panes, but that’s not what I heard that night. A sound, so muted and quiet, screamed into my consciousness, “Wake up! Someone …
It feels good to be write at home.
Hello dashboard. Hello WordPress WYSIWYG editor. Hello blinking cursor, beckoning me to start tapping on the keys. I’ve missed you.
Yes, I know I’ve visited a couple of times in the past several days to write this, and that, but they weren’t really stories. They were hurried posts that satisfied my desire to produce something while on vacation. I apologize that we didn’t get to spend enough time together, but my family comes first. I know you understand. So much has happened since I’ve been gone. I have so many stories to tell you. So many photos to show you. But I’m just really tired right now. Being …
Recently, I was asked if I’m trying to be “like the Pioneer Woman.” Hmm. I couldn’t decide whether to be offended or flattered. Considering the source (a friend from Twitter), I decided she probably had no ill will. And how could I possibly be offended by such a comparison? Well, I’ve worked really hard to find my voice, build my audience, define my brand. I’ve only moderately stalked Pioneer Woman’s site, and to be honest, it’s a bit intimidating. My feet are (probably) way larger than hers, but she has incredibly big shoes to fill. She’s spent years building her online presence until she became a household name (and got her own TV show).
While I would love to bring in the kind of income Mrs. Drummond does, I’m not …
As tempting as it is so stay in the rabbit hole, the outside is much more alluring.
12 posts. 5,324 words. Thousands of views. Hundreds of comments. I’ve been telling Eric’s Story for only a week, and already so much progress has been made. But friends, I’m exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually exhausted.
I’ve descended into the proverbial rabbit hole, consumed by the creative process. My natural tendency is to dig deeper, stay longer, until I have to be retrieved after collapsing in the depths. But this time it’s going to be different. I will only write when the words well up inside me and spill out like water over a flooded dam when my fingers hit the keyboard. When it starts to feel like an obligation, it’s time to back away.
I’m taking a break, a …
An ex-boyfriend once gave me a book on dream interpretation. It was a thick, colorful book with explanations for many scenarios and themes one may encounter while sleeping. It covered everything from colors, to animals, to weather, to textiles. While I was intrigued by the subject matter, I noticed a disturbing trend with the book’s rationale.
The color orange? Well, that means you’re sexually repressed. Zebras? Sexually repressed. Rainstorm? Sexually repressed. Corduroy? Sexually repressed. Wait a second…I’m starting to notice a trend. Perhaps this was wishful thinking on his part. Either way, I’ve never given much credit to dream interpretation until today.
I had time to linger over my thoughts on the open stretch of highway between Kingman and Wichita today, and my mind was mulling over this career change I recently made. I’m thoroughly enjoying the …