Before hitting the "publish site" button, there were some frantic last minute tidy-ups that had to be dealt with, all of which would have been another good excuse to delay the launch, however we went ahead.
My hunky plus size model husband, rounded up our kids and gathered them together to witness the momentous occasion.
Feeling underdressed, I felt the need to jump up and make myself a little more presentable. So on goes a black singlet and lava lava (sarong); somehow I thought that was the perfect attire for a launch.
Eyes connecting with everyone in the room - 3 kids, a hubby (mine), and 2 dogs. My eyes began to start their slow descent towards the floor, hoping no one would notice that I was on a slippery slope to performing the ugly cry.
Too late my daughter caught me, she smiled and said something along the lines of "wouldn't it be funny that, we get all ready only to have the power shut down (as it's known to do here in Jakarta) or page comes back as error". I think it was intended to make me smile.
And what do you know, the later of the 2 happened. ERROR - Reload or try again later.
The laughter in that moment gave me enough time to command the tears to get back in, straighten my face and get photo-ready.
We linked hands, thanked God and pressed the button a second time. We all watched the death wheel intently and then, "Your page has been successfully published". My eyes were fixed to the screen, not really hearing the noise and congratulatory praise that was taking place in the background. When I finally looked up from my laptop, there were some runaway tears that had made their way down my cheek. I looked around the room, to see who I was purposely surrounded with.
The next 24hrs became my worst Facebook, website and Pinterest stalking moments. I was constantly checking for updates, looking at the numbers, watching the "likes" getting higher.
If that wasn't enough, I felt compelled to start editing my website. Tweaking here and there, adding things, taking a deeper look into page overviews and Google analytics. I was researching more, learning more. I was running on adrenalin.
Time had warped forward to 2am and I was wide awake, the refresh button had become my most crucial resource; taking social media stalking to a whole-nutha-level.
5am and the kids are up getting ready for school and I felt like I hadn't slept all. I hear my oldest daughter walk in and with a whisper she murmured under her breath "she slept with her laptop". With the little energy I had left, I muttered "no I didn't" to which my husband loving responds, "yes you did dear". I've taken refuge in a house full of spies.
Too tired for breakfast, topped off with feeling ill from some suspicious coffee like substance that I dared to drink after giving it up over 5 years ago, only added to my fatigued yet highly motivated mood.
Once again I grabbed my trusty laptop and resumed my love/hate relationship with the refresh button.
I started trolling through posts, thanking people, adding people, and liking comments, when suddenly, I paused; I was having a surreal moment. I realized that I did it, I stopped stalling, I stopped making excuses, I stopped procrastinating. I pushed the button and now I am walking my dream out.
Of course it's all still early, I've only just hit 24 hours since the launch of 3Bears. But it's no longer yesterday, I walked into my tomorrow.
Have I made any sales yet? Nope not yet, but they'll come. I'm in this for the long haul.
24 hours have passed and my Facebook likes have increased, I've hired a Marketing Director (my multi-purpose-husband) whose appointment was made official with a job description. Strategic plans are in motion.
There was still time to clean the house, run some errands at the mall, decorate the house for a weekend costume party, do homework revisions, hug the spies before bed and do one last social media stalk before saying goodnight to my Marketing Director and leader of the spies.
Best advice I've gotten, for this journey I'm on... "You don't need to subtract to add" and I get to do it all with a great company of spies.