I am not a blogger.

It was such a weight off my chest to admit that to myself.

I am not a blogger.

I'm a numbers girl: I get caught up in the statistics and inadequacy lurks behind every digit.

Not enough followers, not enough hits, not enough comments.  And it's a yucky feeling.

Regular, planned blogging brings out ugly and sin in me, and I just can't have that.

And since I last wrote, another beautiful baby girl has joined our lives, upset our every routine, and burrowed her way into our hearts.  Oh, and she's kept me up all night and living one-handed during the day--which leaves precious little time for writing showering blogging.

It was a relief to stop thinking about the numbers and post ideas and "what will people think?"  It was a relief to let my brain stew and find a nugget of a novel idea while carrying a car seat back to the car after a doctor's visit.  And it was a relief to have one less task on my plate.

So I was ready to hit 'delete' on this little blog.

But.

But then I put off writing this post for months.

But then I worried that I would have no public forum from which to shout out at the universe.

But then I remembered that I hate to quit things.

I couldn't bring myself to kill this thing entirely.  So, I won't.

My compromise is this: the meager offering that this blog is will continue to live in the land of internet and I will pop in when I feel really and truly moved to share.  No schedules, no series, no agenda other than unburdening the things that rise up in my soul and have to spill out somewhere.

And I'll probably come round for Five Minute Fridays here and there because they're amazing.

Now that that's settled?  I have some new characters who need to be torn down so they can be built back up again. :D