Potski and the road to Cybermummy...

At the parent's in law, still in London. The sounds of 'Chitty Chitty Bang-Bang' drift out from the sitting room where the boys are spending a glorious morning ensconced in front of the box... (don't judge me; it's week 3 of the school holidays. WEEK 3! And it's only July 6th!) Every now and again Boy #1 bursts out into the dining room where I'm tapping away on the lap top to ask pertinent questions like 'It's the same man in this as in Mary Poppins. Does that mean that Bert has two jobs?' and to exclaim 'No! No!' when the pirates sail over the horizon. I'm currently on standby for when the odious Child Catcher appears since I have no doubt my presence will be required to ward off his advances...

It's all a very long way from Saturday when I joined 200 other delegates at the Cybermummy event in Earl's Court.

Nixdminx summed up the day pretty well for me in a post yesterday when she asked the question 'Cybermummy or Womanhood?' So many different women, so many different lifestyles, but all part of this phenomen and all giving a voice to their experiences of being a woman and a mother.

Before I started blogging I have to admit that I thought of bloggers as people who sought solace and companionship in cyberspace because they couldn't find it in the real world. Bloggers, I thought, probably didn't wash very much. The curtains on their homes were usually shut. They played fantasy games on the internet, and ate a lot of take-aways. They certainly didn't do the laundry, the school run, hold down a job,or juggle a family's schedule. Then - almost by mistake and entirely thanks to Pig in the Kitchen - I became a blogger myself, and suddenly the preconceptions that I had previously had became those of others about me, others who knew nothing about this new and vibrant world that I had stumbled into.

To start with, I didn't really tell anyone about my on-line life. I was worried what they might think of me (given my own previous prejudices, for example), I was worried that they might - the horror! - read what I wrote. But over time, I gained confidence and started to share with close friends what I was doing. I even told my Husband the address after a close friend of his took the trouble to find the blog on google (never forget; you might think your blog is anonymous but if it contains even a kernel of truth about your life, you're not. Bear that in mind when you hit publish...).

And then I took the final leap into linking my real-life with my on-line life; I met another blogger.

As I stood and waited for her to arrive I have to admit that I did wonder what the hell I was doing. One of the issues that seems to come up time and again for bloggers is the hypocrisy of repeatedly warning your older children about 'the weirdo's on the internet' and the absolute no-go of ever meeting them in person - and then going to do exactly that yourself. What if she turned out to be some sort of psycopath who bore no resemblance to the warm and witty person I knew online? What if she turned out to be some kind of internet stalker? What if this meeting turned into a special feature in The Daily Mail, a tale of horror, the apparently sympathetic tone of the article heavily underscored with the unspoken suggestion that 'she should have known better; no good can ever come from the interweb?'

Of course, that's not how it turned it out at all. Frog in the Field and I had a great time; so great in fact that when she roped me in to a special screening for mummy bloggers of 'Chuggington' a few weeks later I didn't hesitate to say yes. And that's where I met 'A Modern Mother', and Jo Beaufoix amongst others. A couple of weeks later when the former asked us to be part of a new ning she was setting up, instead of replying 'what on earth is a ning?' I answered yes, and that's how I ended up in Earl's Court on Saturday, surrounded by yet more warm and witty people who I had also met on the internet.

It was wonderful. For a start, everybody there had washed. There were no drawn curtains, no take-away cartons (at least, not during the day. I can't speak for later after a few glasses of wine had been consumed, obviously...) And I can't sum up my feelings about the day better than to quote something from an e-mail that a good friend of mine - who, whilst I had never met her in person before Saturday most definitely fits that description - sent afterwards, and which I think applies to just about everyone I spoke to at Cybermummy;

'I loved meeting you. You are so very YOU!'

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

I'm in London, recovering after a flight over here on my own with the Boys on Friday, and yesterday's Cybermummy event in Earl's Court. This is a British Mummy Blogger of the week post, I promise, but first two other things...

1. Friday's noteable quote came from Boy #2 on the plane, when he was introducing me to a four-year old flame-haired almond-eyed temptress who had ensnared him in a game of mutual tongue sticking out and tummy flashing. (She started it. I swear). Once the courtship ritual I described above was completed (and is it really so different from what happens when we get older, I wonder?), he decided to introduce me to her. We eyed each other warily, as Boy #2 said "And this, this is my mummy. But her stage name is Clare*."

My stage name? I was torn. Part of me wanted to ask where on earth he heard that expression. And the other part wanted to say "Oh darling. That's not right. My stage name is Potty..."

* Clare is of course not my real name, as you will know if you were actually at yesterday's fabulous Cybermummy event, and which leads me neatly onto the second thing I wanted to note...

2. Whilst there will no doubt be a 'proper post' on my Cybermummy experience on The Potty Diaries in the near future, it's not today. Instead, I just want to say that I am inordinately proud of myself for not running up to any number of the fabulous bloggers that I met in person for the first time yesterday and saying, in true hysterical woman fashion 'I bloody love your blog, I do...'

So. This week's recommended reading. I've decided not to put up an attendee from yesterday as I suspect that anyone who didn't go will be heartily sick of hearing those who did waxing lyrical about it. Instead, I'm going to recommend a relative newcomer to the BMB ning. Belgravia Wife of Belgravia Wives writes of herself:

'Mother of three, have to say, particularly dinky children. Central London resident, baffled by the whole school business - school fees vs. home schooling - let's talk ! Freelance head-hunter- working with clients who have loyally stayed by my side throughout three bouts of baby induced uselessness. Writer - novel coming along - nicely....somewhere else. In fact writing quite a few novels - just not particularly quickly.'

Check out her posts for musings on goats in yurts and living in London - although not at the same time, obviously - and for delicious menu ideas to boot.

(And in the interests of full disclosure, I do actually know Belgravia Wife in real life. But don't hold that against her, please...)

For the British Mummy Bloggers Ning, click here. (And it says 'Mummy', but Dads can be members too...)