In the last ten years I have. . . moved three times; celebrated five and then ten and then (almost) fifteen years of marriage; become a mother of one, and then (after serving my time with the infertility doctors) a mother of three; left my California roots for life as a Texan; grieved a miscarriage and the early loss of our almost-triplet; held many jobs, a handful of them paid; watched our extended family expand; said goodbye to a cockatiel and hello to a labradoodle; bought a house; made peace with becoming a minivan mom; read 1,380 books (plus hundreds more picture books); lived through a global pandemic, a mental health crisis, and a spiritual rebirth; and witnessed too many kid milestones for my heart to handle.
And, most relevant for today, in the last ten years I have pressed Publish on 1,591 blog posts. Which is at least a thousand more than I ever imagined publishing when I wrote my first post ten years ago.
I have lived a lot of life (more than a full quarter of my life, in fact) in the last decade, and this blog has been with me every step of the way. It has been a space to document my memories and memorialize our family’s growth. And it has been more than a faithful observer, but an active participant in shaping the woman I am today. Sharing my enthusiasms and opinions here has given me clarity, for it is through the written processing of my ideas and emotions that I come to know who I am, where my values lie, and what I believe.
This space has seen some changes through the years, growing up alongside me and evolving as my interests and priorities have matured. The learning curve for me was steep, and in my early blogging days, writing was agony—I enjoyed having written, but the process itself was tedious. Ten years in, my typing fingers struggle to keep pace with the ideas pouring forth. Writing has shifted from obligatory to cathartic, the self-care practice that feels less like care than genuine life support.
For ten years, blogging has been my creative outlet and my mission field. It is my small way of making a mark on this world that is a little more immediate (and personally satisfying) than the long-game of my greater calling of motherhood. And in giving me something beyond the here-and-now to occupy my time and attention, writing makes me more intentional and aware within my non-writing life: I walk through the world with senses tuned towards lessons and stories to share. Few of these make it to the blog space, but they do filter through my mind and soul, creating fertile ground for new qualities, habits, and ideas to bloom. My mind is sharper, my heart softer, and my spirit more aligned with my Creator because of this little corner of the internet I’ve inhabited since August of 2013.
Few would call this blog a success: my audience remains small, and I have yet to turn a profit (not that I’ve made any effort to grow my numbers or earn an income … ). But for all the reasons that matter most to me, it has been HUGELY successful. I cherish the notes from readers, letting me know my words have touched you, informed you, or helped you feel seen. And I marvel at the ways that a simple practice of sharing my heart a few times per week for a solid decade has managed to inform every nook and cranny of my life.
It’s true that I would keep up with this space if I never had a single reader. But I am incredibly grateful to each of you who show up regularly, who subscribe to my posts, who respond with a comment, who simply give me some of your precious time and attention each week. What a gift you have given me. THANK YOU for celebrating this big milestone with me. Here’s to decade number two!
(As my thank-you gift to YOU, I’ve kept this relatively short! In ten years of writing, I have accepted that brevity is not my forte. But although I have come to terms with my verbosity, today seemed like a good opportunity to practice some restraint. No promises about next year’s anniversary post, though …. )