International Infertility Film Festival starts today. My entry is below this post. See other films at the IIFF website. And thank you, Bea, for setting up another cool festival.

I was bloody awful with the second Happiness Challenge. It doesn't even warrant its own post. Let's just say this, I sucked at meditation. And you know what, perhaps sitting still and not thinking and not doing just isn't me. Am I constantly stressed out and run ragged? Yes. Do I wish I could slow down? Yes. But slowing down didn't bring me internal peace and happiness. It brought me more anxiety.

I think baking and cooking are, for me, a more calming version of zoning out and zooming in. And baking bread can be a form of meditation. At least it is under my definition of meditation...

How did you fare? Did anyone gain great success from the meditation challenge?

And now the blogs:

Mama at Three Under Two has a final post before the birth of her child (which happened, by the way, on Thursday. She had a little girl!). I really loved this post not only because we've been looking forward to the birth, but because it has a wistfulness to the writing. It aches with the knowledge of how hard those first days can be. How hard change can feel when you're the one facing it. But mostly, what I took away was how valid all of our feelings are because we own them. The reality is that though most of us would do anything to be on the eve of giving birth and many of us would insist that we'd never be feeling these things, I think Mama has a very honest and thoughtful reaction to the enormity of having a child. Her fears do not dismiss the gratitude she feels, but those fears are important to face as well.

I loved this snarky post at Futility Treatment. Laughed for a long time after reading every time I thought about it again. I think I loved the final line the best: "Thanks for not-asking how I'm doing. It really touched me."

Sharah at Outlandish Notions ran down the cost of happiness this week. She may not be able to buy the thing that would make her heart explode open in joy, but she can purchase the small moments that bring a smile to her day and she lists them and their price tag. The post brought a close focus on reality. Even in the middle of a crisis, happiness can be found in small oases. I love going through used book stores to find those small minutes of happiness. The hunt, the found book in great condition, the novel you never thought they would have. Regular bookstores are nice and I love new books. I love to sit at Politics and Prose and read a new book and drink coffee. But there is excitement built into trips to the used bookstore. LJ and I use the used bookstore run as our pick-me-up, and as you read this, two girls in shitty moods just returned from hunting down fiction (no books were purchased. Saved money going towards the Girl Blogger's Night In). Thank you, Sharah, for the reminder that while you may not be able to buy Happiness, you can certainly buy happiness. Little h.

M at My Sanctuary had a sad little post this week, almost a shuddering sigh of a post, as she tries to organize the thoughts in her mind. It begins: "At a time in my life when it seems things may be on the upswing, I am miserable. Outwardly I’m a fabulous actress, but inside I’m just all mixed up and all over the place. I can barely muster up any enthusiasm or excitement about our new house, or going home next week for a wedding and holiday with my family, or our adoption plans. Usually I like my mind to be like a neat filing cabinet, all my thoughts and ideas and plans compartmentalised and organised - but some bastard has ransacked my filing cabinet and strewn shit everywhere and I can’t cope. " The fears and worries are all very tangible and clear. Perhaps they're scattered across the floor right now, but I hope writing them out brought some peace. The one that I wanted to respond to is this one: "Lately, I’ve become anxious about my blog. This is a relatively new one for me. I read so many other blogs, and they’re so damn good. Funny, honest, raw, warm and sometimes sad, but mostly beautifully written. I just write. I don’t draft (sometimes if I get an idea I will, but otherwise I don’t) - and everyone becomes all involved with different blog occasions and I just can’t keep up. I’d love to, but I can’t. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have people read this, my diary, but then I don’t know what I’d do without you." I knew I wanted to put this post in the Roundup prior to getting to this paragraph. This paragraph simply gives me a chance to very publicly say that your writing and your blog is damn good. It is funny, honest, raw, warm, and sad. It is beautifully written. The words that you "just write" touch me incredibly and though I may not comment as often as I wish, I wanted you to know how much reading your sanctuary means to me.

That is the week for me. To wrap up--let me know if meditation worked for you, go check out the Blog Fair, and um...vote for me. Please?