Hello & Goodbye

Hey, strangers y'all!

It's been a while since I last posted, and even longer since I've featured regular postings and updates, which depending on how you look at it, has the potential to put me in the running for Worst Blogger of the Year. But with my lack of postings, I've had a lot to time to focus on other endeavors and in the process learn a little more about myself and my priorities.

Last week, on April 19th, this little blog of mine celebrated its second blog-a-versary. There were no balloons. No throwing of confetti. Not even a colossal giveaway or sentimental post to reflect on the past 24 months. In reality, last Tuesday came and went without so much as a single thought to this blog.

Instead the 19th, played out like any old ordinary day. There were errands that were tackled, hurdles that were cleared, and battles that were both won and lost against an ever formidable adversary, my precocious yet always lovable, Sweet Bean. There were moments of rest, amid the piles of chores, and the health scare of a beloved family member thrown in the mix, just to keep us on our toes. The sun still rose shedding light on our day and sank slowing in the evening sky despite my lack of postings.

Imagine that…

Even with the most cursory of glances at post dates, it has become apparent that I've been headed toward a major blog-related change for several months now. Webbisodes has been my own piece of cyber real estate for the past couple of years. And as most blogs do, mine began simply.

At the urging of a friend, I started Webbisodes as a way of keeping family and friends current with the big news of the day, which at the time was the impending arrival of Miss Gillian Grace.

With a following of a staggering six people (4 of which were immediate family), I could've never imagined that anyone would want to read, much less follow, something specifically about us and our nothing short of average life. Because despite the junk in my trunk, the Kardashians we are not!

But you not only read, you visited often, always leaving words of support and endless compliments about Sweet Bean, her smile, and least I forget, her extensive wardrobe.

And just like life, a blog will ebb and flow until one day, you find yourself faced with a choice---continue following the tide or change directions completely.

So go ahead and call me dramatic, or perhaps even egotistical, when I say that like all good things, this blog must also come to an end, at least for now. And since I don't know what would be considered worse---filler posts or truly wearing out my welcome, I know that it's time. Time to stop feeling guilty for not posting as often as I think I should. Time to move on with my life and truly devote all my effort to being the best mom, wife, friend, and daughter I can be. And finally, time to be content within my own life, and to quit comparing myself to others, their things, and lifestyles.

With a change like this, you know what they say, Once a blogger, always a blogger. Okay, maybe "they" don't say that, but I do. So, needless to say,  between my little design shop and my desire to continue journaling our escapades, I'll still be around---just much less publicly. And knowing that you'll have to pry the camera away from my cold dead hands before I ever stop snapping away at the one subject that always makes me smile, there will always be an abundance of Sweet Bean photos to share.

Though I will miss the daily affirmations and the boost it gives my ego to read all of the thoughtful comments, I hope that many of you choose to stay in touch. And, it is said with the deepest of sincerity that I hope all the true friendships made through this very blog, will carry on. But since I'm still one of the last remaining people on the planet that doesn't have a Facebook account and still considers a tweet a sound that a bird makes, it means turning back the clock and keeping in touch the old school way---though emails, texts, and yes, even phone calls.

And for lack of a better closing sentiment, I'll borrow one from the once most trusted man in America, Walter Cronkite, and sign-off for now by saying quite simply, "And that's the way it is…"