What I’ve Been Meaning To Say…

I used to blog every. single. day.  There was barely a thought or event or special occasion that went undocumented in some form or another.

And then?  Well, I don’t know what.  Other shit became more important, I guess.  Or maybe I just got bored with it.  Or maybe I just started spewing all of my creative and communication juices in other places and didn’t have a whole lot left over. Or maybe whatever.

Point is:

My daughter’s birthday was March 3rd and I didn’t so much as mention it here.  I never finished talking about the day we thought we were going to be spending the day at a PR thing  in Tampa and found out we weren’t so decided to spend the afternoon at Disney together.  I never got around to talking about the Chuck E. Cheese birthday party or how madly in love the kid was with every. single. present. she received.  I never posted pictures of the heartbreakingly sweet and awesome birthday card her big brother made her.  I never wrote the obligatory “my daughter is five and these are all the things I love about her now” post.

And truth be told?  It’s been bugging the shit out of me.

Not because you care that she turned five.

Not because she’ll care or notice that she missed out on the traditional THE CHILD OF A MOMMY BLOGGER PERSON HAD A BIRTHDAY! celebration.

Not because of anything but one single thing I have been dying to share with the world.


This is a picture of Emma on the Big Thunder Mountain roller coaster at Disney’s Magic Kingdom.

And this one picture, this one snapshot in time, says pretty much everything I’ve ever wanted to say about anything in life.

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