Days 1 and 2: In which we listen to and prove upon our own skins “The Sun is a Mass of Incandescent Gas”

I woke up this morning, day 3 of our trip, in a tiny 1950s looking beach hotel in Nags Head, NC with turquoise blue faux-leather chairs that delighted me even at 11:30 p.m. when we managed to finally get settled into this hotel room.

We are extremely sunburned, enough to get me the bad mom of the year award, probably. But we’ve had 2 great days of swimming and driving.

We left Marietta on Saturday at the time we actually planned, 9:30 a.m., and those of you who know us will understand how amazing it is for us to both be on time and to be on time early in the morning. We listened to music, sang, and talked all the way to Charlotte, NC. We focused our efforts on Bloodhound Gang, They Might Be Giants, Waylon Jennings, and the soundtrack from O Brother Where Art Thou.

We spent the afternoon with a group of lovely friends at Cynthia Roeth’s pool. Cynthia was there and Faye and Tim and Henry Cheadle and David Baucom, basically the Charlotte ATLOSCon crew. We were sorry to miss Neil and the smaller Roeths, but they were on their own trip. Livy swam and swam, wetalked and talked, and we ate yummy burritos.

We left there at about 7 and made it nearly all the way to Wilmington, NC by 10:30. We dropped exhausted into our beds.

On Sunday morning, we made the rest of the trip to Wilmington to go to the beach with Aaron’s sister Lisa and her two kids, Theory and Marissa. It was a stellar beach day. The slope of the beach was very gentle, so Livy got to go much farther out that she had on our last beach trip, and, because there wasn’t a ginormous storm, the waves were much more fun for her to play in. She hardly got out of the water the whole 4 hours. Aaron and I played in the water, chatted with his sister, and watched the kids.

Apparently the amount of sunscreen I think is good enough is not good enough for a sunny day from 11:30-3:30 on the beach. We are cooked, especially Aaron who reapplied sunscreen a bunch of times. Burned though we are, we had a wonderful late lunch after the beach at a delicious seafood restaurant (where I got Mahi stuffed with a crab cake, Livy got shrimp scampi and spinach over pasta, and Aaron got a steak—it was all lovely) and then we drove toward Kitty Hawk, listening to Sherlock Holmes stories most of the way.

We wanted to spend the night on the mainland and drive out to the Outer Banks in the morning so we could see how pretty all the bridges and water were, but there was no room at any inn until we got out onto the island and up to Nags Head. By the time we finally got checked in, Livy was very tired and too sunburned to really sleep comfortably in the car, so we had much whining from her and from Aaron who is not used to sun and its effects. I got them rubbed down with aloe and tucked in, ate my delicious seafood leftovers, and went to bed myself.

To Ron Weasley (On Why I Get You and Your Relationship with Harry Potter)

Dear Ron,

I'm writing this letter to tell you that you and I are alike and that I really get you. When I read about your adventures, I see myself in you, and I wanted you to know that I try to live up to your example. Keep reading, and you'll know what I mean.

You know how you are kinda famous, but Harry is really famous? I get that. You know how no matter how much you contribute to the fight against Voldemort, people just think of you as Harry's sidekick? I get that. You know how you worry about how you are always overlooked? I get that.

See, I have a famous best friend too. We are also business partners, just like you and Harry are partners in fighting Death Eaters. My friend Jenn is just as cool as your friend Harry. She always gives me credit for my contributions; she always treats me as an equal; she knows that we are so much better together than either is apart. None of the awful feeling of being in someone's shadow is her fault, anymore than it's Harry's fault that you don't get noticed so often.

It's not that Harry and Jenn don't deserve their fame, either. Harry could cast a corporeal patronus in his third year. And Jenn has an amazing blog where she works very hard to keep the thoughtful and helpful parenting posts chugging out. But we're pretty great, too, right? I mean, that chess game you played? How you handled the group when Harry was obsessed with the Deathly Hallows? And I am an awesome parent educator, with good classes, good podcasts, and some really new and innovative ideas about parenting and Objectivism.

But it's hard to be overlooked, isn't it? It's hard for you to hear about how Harry is the symbol of the anti-Voldemort movement, when you have shared in every anti-Voldemort activity. He gets called "The Chosen One," I know. Did you know someone once told me that Jenn was "the Objectivist parent?" You know how you didn't get invited to the Slug Club? Well, once a guy I just met socialized with me for an entire party, and at the end, he told me that he couldn't wait to meet Jenn because he had some parenting questions. One person asked me, "Are Jenn's kids the coolest you've ever met?" Umm, I have my own child, dude, and I am kind of partial to her, awesome though Jenn's kids might be.

Anyway, you can see that our positions are similar. What I really wanted to tell you was what I learned from watching you. You handle being right next to and being support to and working with someone really famous. Mostly, you handle it pretty well. I've learned from you that I just have to focus on my own values, as you focus on the mission to destroy Voldemort, and not worry so much about what people think. I've learned that when your friend becomes the youngest seeker in 100 years, you can be happy for him, even if you would like to be playing Quidditch too. You can celebrate someone else's accomplishments without always comparing them to your own.

I work hard on not being second-handed, on focusing on the product I am working on, rather than on how it is received.

I work hard on not being envious, on remembering that it isn't my friend who overlooks me. She is always my biggest cheerleader, and I want to be hers, even if she has bunches of others.

I work hard on doing the thing I actually want, instead of the thing that will get me a little more spotlight. For example, I really wanted to go to DragonCon over Labor Day weekend, but Jenn and I were asked to speak at ChicagOCon. I struggled with the decision because I worry that people will not miss me in our presentation and wonder why Jenn has a partner at all. I worry that I will be more overlooked if I miss my chance to be on stage. But I weighed my values, and I decided to do the thing I actually valued more and let the fame fall where it may.

Basically, I work hard at keeping the sane voices in my head, the ones who speak reality to me, talking louder than the voices of my insecurity. Just like when you were about to destroy that Horcrux, I fight the part of me that talks in Voldemort's voice. I choose not to hear the message that second-handedness and fear convey. Instead, I think of the love that my friend and I share, the amazing work we do together, my very real contributions to Objectivist parenting, and my other values.

When the Horcrux tells me that nobody would care if I never wrote or spoke about parenting again, I just stab it with a big ole Goblin-made sword. When the Horcrux tells me that no one even knows I exist or that Jenn and I figured it all out together, I just look around for the nearest basilisk fang. I shrug off the kind of insulting things people say with this thought: "Jenn IS just that awesome. She deserves every compliment. And I am that awesome, too. Even if folks on the internet don't know it, I know it. And so does Jenn and the other people I love. They know who I am and support me in my important work."

But I know the dark moments, the ones when second-handedness wins. I know just how you feel when you leave Harry and Hermione in the tent and disapparate. Sometimes it seems like it would be easier to just quit. Why not let Jenn do the parenting education and focus on something else? Then I wouldn't have to feel overlooked; I'd not be doing anything to overlook. I've pulled back several times, tried to back away from our work, decided to just quit and stop feeling like this. But like you, I came back.

It's rationality that saves us both, Ron. We can use our minds to keep away the insecurities, to ignore the slights, to focus on important values, and to choose awesome companions in our work. And when Voldemort is dead and positive discipline has swept across Objectivism like fiendfyre, you and I will both know that we did good work and acheived our goals. And we will have Harry and Jenn to share in the pleasure of a job well done.

Your admirer,
Kelly

My Best SnowCon Moment

I'm going to write about my favorite moment of SnowCon, the peak moment. I was standing next to Jenn in front of our audience. Our posters were set up; our markers were out; and everyone was looking up at us. It wasn't quiet yet because we were waiting on the webcast to begin, and I looked out over the crowd and saw so many faces looking back at me all shining with friendship and good fun and interest.

I loved that moment best because it combined everything. I was about to talk about parenting and communication, which I love. I was in front of people, smiling and joking, which I love. I was with Jenn, whom I love. I was talking not to a crowd of strangers, but to a host of friends. The first row was filled with the people I had gotten to know over dinner, Anders and Maria, Maryallene and Don, Steve, all making me feel more comfortable with their recent familiarity. Aaron and Santiago sat together, looking positive we would do well, their faces reassuringly clear of any doubt whatsoever about our brilliance, and we wondered if Brendan was able to watch back home, knowing that he wouldn't have a doubt either. Earl and Tom were taking pictures of us and smiling. I remember seeing Paul and William and Arthur and Lisa and Sarah and Travis and Colleen. Diana and Kelly were working hard to make everything go smoothly for us. Chris was telling us for the 10th time that we would be great because he knew we were very nervous.

Perhaps it's arrogant to compare a parenting talk to being at the top of a Saturn V; okay, yes, it really is, but I can imagine what Neil Armstrong must have felt as he was ready to blast off. He must have heard the familiar voices of the Mission Control guys, thought of the gathering of other astronauts and his family, imagined all the people in America wishing him well and watching him in his big moment, looked at the deeply-known team beside him, and felt that he was being pushed out to the moon by goodwill alone.

There were awesome things before this moment: talks at the cabin, joking in the hot-tub, Diana's lecture, good food, much alcohol. There were awesome things afterward too: our talk (which went really well), the congratulations of our friends, the live webcast, Santiago's talk, debriefing with Jenn, Colleen, and Travis, the coffee shop discussion with Diana about books. But that one moment, waiting for our talk to begin, is why I love Objectivist conferences.

It was the precious feeling of being with people who get you, people who like you for all your principles and your forthrightness, people who are benevolent, people who want you to succeed and who glory in their own successes. It's funny to me that anyone would think Objectivists don't value feelings and people, that they don't know how to be close and have good relationships. Because it was love, both for me and for a community of like-minded friends, that I felt flowing over me from every direction in my best SnowCon moment.

My Car of Love

Today I rode for over an hour in a car with my dearest people except Livy. Had she been there (preferably asleep so the adult conversations could still have gone on), I could have been perfectly happy and blissful. I feel all people-saturated, better than my usual self, just like cake is good, but better soaked in rum. Shea, Aaron, and Jenn are rum. Really good, expensive, coconut rum.

The Things I've Had Enough Wine to Say

I've had more than one glass of wine tonight (I will leave the reader to guess how many more), and in the great and glorious tradition of drunk dialing, I think I will tell everyone the gushy wonderful things about the people I love that I ordinarily don't say, but should.

First, Livy. At the ripe old age of 6, that child has more spunk and strength of will than most people will have at 80. It's hard to be the mom and official limit setter to such a willful person, but I am daily amazed at how in touch she is with exactly what she wants and how she intends to get it. Plus, she is just so cute!

Next Aaron. Aaron is the person in a group who always says the thing that other people are thinking but don't have the guts to say out loud. He is so grounded, so sure of who he is, and so loving. He is one of those amazing people who can address exactly what you said without holding it against you that you said it badly. And he's so interesting! Always learning something new, never stagnant. He inspires me to be virtuous and hardworking and forgiving.

And Jenn. Jenn takes care of me. She helps me with insurance forms and helps me be patient and reasonable when I am on a rampage. She is so funny that no conversation with her is ever average. She is passionately devoted to her career, and when we talk about parenting, she always makes me feel refreshed and ready to reenter the fray. I don't have siblings, but I would choose her to be a sister, tied by blood and memory and unbreakable links.

And Brendan. Brendan is such an affectionate person. I always feel thoroughly cared about whenever I spend time with him. In general, I don't like to be teased because I take things so seriously, but his teasing feels like a warm smile or a hug. Rarely does anyone make me feel as well-liked as he does.

These are the people I love best. Amen.