If you read yesterdays post, you may have noticed that I’m in a reflective mood. Which may have a good deal to do with where God has me right now, and what He is attempting to teach me about patience and perseverance. And never losing hope.
Today is no different, as I celebrate the 4th anniversary of this blog. I cannot believe I’ve kept up with it for 4 years. I’ve stopped and started diaries and journals dozens of times in my life, and never once did I ever make it past two weeks.
I think the difference here is in the community. A blessing that was not an expected outcome of starting a blog. Fiddledaddy encouraged me to start writing when he tired of spending a small fortune in postage on my 5 plus page Christmas letters every year. And then when he caught me talking to the curtains, he assumed that I might need a creative outlet.
Thusly, It Coulda’ Been Worse, which later morphed into simply Fiddledeedee, was born. I began blogging when Jensen was still in diapers, and my girls could not fit into my shoes. In other words, Emme was 6, Cailey 4, and Jensen was only 18 months old. I’ve had the great privilege of sharing their growth with you. Only, I don’t think they will consider it a privilege when that day of reckoning comes and they actually get to read about what all they’ve put me through.
Revenge, it is best served with a side of that’s-what-you-get.
What I’ve enjoyed most about blogging is the behind-the-scenes shenanigans. The comments you all leave are either insightful, encouraging, or down right funny. Sometimes all three. And the bloggy friends that I have made throughout the last 4 years have really been the inspiration for me to continue. Some of you I know in real life, some of you I’ve met through this blog, but most I only know by comments and e-mails. You all mean the world to me.
I heard that you really need a thick skin to blog and open yourself up to comments. But I can honestly say that I’ve never had a mean spirited comment in the 4 years I’ve been writing. Which is good. Because my skin is more thin and wrinkly than thick, anyway.
(Raising shot glass of ChocoVine) So here’s to the next four years. Which will likely see me through menopause, the teenage angst of two girls dealing with acne, periods, and boys, one husband who will be campaigning to take shooting lessons, and a boy whose only dream is to watch the toilet overflow.
Thank you all for being here for me, and for supporting and encouraging me. I never feel alone on this treacherous journey of motherhood. My heart is full and I am blessed.