Six years

When I checked in to read a friend’s post this morning, my blog told me I had registered six years ago today. It tried to tell me a few days ago, but I haven’t been listening to my blog lately. Because life.

Six years. Dang.

I began this blog because I was discombobulated by the daily realities of parenting a two-year-old far from home. The changes since then have been slow and deliberate, quick and unexpected, and everything in between.

As a journal of my thoughts, NaptimeWriting has been with me through a lot. Life and love and death and birth and books and clients and friends and five houses and a marriage that might or might not be over.

And I hope that I’m inspired to post more regularly, to record of my thoughts and experiences. Because that’s why I stated this process, and it’s what I love about online writing.

Happy birthday, little blog. You’re often overshadowed by the other parts of my life, but I’m awfully glad I began talking to you semi-regularly six years ago.

[Here’s my one of my first posts, if you enjoy seeing raw, rookie efforts to filter the thousands of ideas generally flooding the brain of a new blogger.]

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6 thoughts on “Six years

  1. I was clicking through the other day reading old posts of yours. You had me at “You give phlebotomy a bad name”… still crackin up years later about your ability to deliver a hilarious rant. Happy blogiversary.

    Wait… 5 houses!? Damn girl.

    • I have to go find that post, because if it’s about the phlebotomist who caught me at my worst a few months after the little guy was born, why then I NEED that post. He was genuinely memorable.
      Ah, yes. I did rant well. Back when I was young and full of indignation.
      Glad you made it here, unicorn. You’re always welcome.

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