In Which I Forgot to Buy My Blog a Birthday Present


Back in 2009, I woke up with an idea and a URL I had to get and buy RIGHT THIS MINUTE. It was 2 a.m and I had my credit card in hand and my desktop fired up. My chosen URL? I'm pretty sure I posted a photo of Eliana sitting on a bench at Trail Dust Town in Tucson Arizona. She was two. In the realm of motherhood, I was a total rookie. 

But I wasn't tired now that I had excitement building up inside me; the good shivery and buzz like feeling you get from one too many shots of espresso in your Starbucks coffee. No was I was going back to sleep, so I opened up a word doc, stared the cursor down, and began typing the first words of the first draft of #BabyFat: Adventures in Motherhood, Muffin Tops, & Trying to Remain Sane. Today, celebrating my launch of that very same book in just a few days on September 28, I'm looking back on a tiny sliver of the yesterdays that serve as memory. 



If I was a man and my blog was my woman she would totally be mad at me right now.

See, I've been using This Little Blog O' Mine as a sounding board for the past two years.  Bottom line? Blogarina deserves Shiny and Pretty and New and instead? I totally forgot her two-year anniversary. The only thing I could have done to make it worse was Remembered and brought home an iron.

My dad did that for mom once. He's dead and she's still bitching about it.

It's okay though. I can guarantee he's sitting up on a cloud, drinking a Miller Lite and chuckling about that time Mom got pissed off at him for buying What She Said She Needed.

And round and round...

The World...

She spins...



I have blogger’s block.

Or rather, the blogger in me isn’t sure what she is doing right now.

For years, decades even, I have been talking about how I was going to grow up to become a novelist.

An Author.

A writer.

I was eight when I made that decision, and 18 when I realized I was going to need something that paid the bills. So rationally, I signed up as a Communications major in college and specialized in Journalism. This was a smart move, I figured. I’d hone my craft, impress my editors, get my name out there, and publish the novel I’d write into the wee hours of each morning in no time. But then…

I was too tired to write when I got home.

I got married.

Dealt with infertility.

Had a baby.

Hated my job.

Quit my job.

Lost my father.

Moved 2,000 miles to start a brand new life.

And then I woke up one day and decided I wanted to try and make that dream come true again.

So here I am. And I’m not sure where to start.


2015 (again)

2015 (again)

I'm still here. And I'm still moving forward. Thank you all for reading my finding my words and coming back for more.