Dear Friends,

As I’m sure you’ve assumed by now, I’ve decided to stop blogging. Just this past week I have heard from a few of you asking how I am doing and making sure everything is okay, and it warmed my heart quite a bit, so I thought I would pop in here with a formal farewell (at least for now, as I’ll never know what the future holds).

I stopped blogging because it wasn’t making me happy anymore. About a month after I quietly slipped away, I read this post, and it confirmed that I was doing what I needed to be doing. I couldn’t put it into words nearly as eloquently as she did, but she managed to capture my feelings just beautifully, and for that, I was grateful.

My life over the last few months has been very blessed (it always has, but lately I feel especially lucky). Jon and I are in the family way again, we are expecting our second little one in May. Parker is growing into a hilarious toddler and everyday her personality seems to grow bigger than I ever thought possible. She is filled with sass to say the least (this makes me laugh lots and at the same time wonder what I am in for in the coming years).

Our life right now is perfectly imperfect and I am so very content with that. I think, for me, not sharing things with the whole world makes each moment a little more peaceful and a little more special. And the content feeling has come from the fact that I no longer have the feeling that someone somewhere is expecting something from me here, coupled with my becoming a full-time stay-at-home mama a couple months ago.

If you want to stay in touch (which I would love), feel free to friend me over on Facebook (where I occasionally check in) or follow me on Pinterest if you want to know what I am cooking for dinner, what room I am currently re-organizing or what kind of crafty fun I am attempting.

Thanks for reading and following along, it has been an honor to meet so many wonderful ladies through this blog.

Love, Lindsey

We arrived in Belgium early in the morning, after getting no sleep on the plane. We were all tired and in need of a good shower, but we had a few hours before our hotel room was available. So we headed into downtown Ghent, a charming little town on a river. As tired as I was, I couldn’t deny the old world charm and before I knew it, my camera was out and I was snapping away.

And for awhile, I kept telling myself it was silly to spend $30 on five bags, when I was always getting them for free. And then on a particularly pregnant day, I just did it, and I haven’t looked back since. They really do roll up, just like in the photos. I use them everywhere and for everything, and when they get dirty, I just toss them in the laundry and then hang them to dry. Mine are all in the green/gray/blue family, but there are so many more options now that I have to stop myself from buying more!

And just so you know, Envirosax had nothing to do with this post. They don’t even know I am writing it, I just really, really love these bags and I think everyone should have a set!

Just kidding…I’m not done, it’s not even 9am yet. I have been making my own jam for a couple years now, all in my mom’s kitchen under her strict guidance, as I never fully paid attention to what we were doing. I just chopped and stirred as she told me to, and somehow, we came up with delicious, safe jam made from local fruits.

But this summer, I have had a ridiculous need to really can. To put up. To apparently become a house-wife from the 1950′s, complete with apron and round-toe pumps. I had never even heard of the term putting up until I started doing a little bit of research, and now I love it. It sounds so cool, so retro and vintage. A few weeks ago I picked fresh strawberries, and turned them into 25 jars of jam, which I figured would last us forever, but Jon has assured me that I did not go overboard, and that 25 jars is the perfect amount for one year (he was serious, which is baffling). Last week I bought local peaches, plucked a few jalapenos from my garden, and made peach jalapeno jam. Yesterday I bought some more peaches and pickling cucumbers, and last night, after P went to bed, I canned for the first time in my own kitchen, all by myself. I made spiced peaches and dill pickles. The peaches were waterbath canned, and should last at least a year, as long as I did it right. The pickles are fridge pickles, so they will only last a few weeks in the fridge, which is fine with me since I will probably eat them in a day once they’re ready. Next up, I have big plans to turn all the tomatoes that are growing in my back yard into sauces and soups, although right now, they are all green and I’m not sure if they are planning on ripening or not.

The pickles only took me about 30 minutes from start to finish, and since there wasn’t any serious cooking or timing, I managed to take a few pictures. That didn’t happen with the peaches. I was too worried about the possibility of poisoning my family in six months when we open the jars, so I put the camera down and really paid attention to what I was doing (here’s hoping that worked).

I really hope they taste as good as they look! The pickles were local and organic from the market, the garlic was grown almost across the street from my parent’s house, and the dill was from my herb garden this year. I may be a food snob (my sister thinks I am, although without knowing it, she’s just as guilty as I am) but no one can argue that food from another state/country tastes just as good as fresh, local food plucked right off the vine. They just can’t. And I think that’s why I feel the need to preserve it. To offer myself a glimmer of hope on a freezing, slushy February day, in the way of a newly opened can of homemade tomato sauce or sliced peaches.

And some video notes:

1) Dancing is a new thing for Parker and it’s my absolute favorite! It always involves clapping and knee bending, and when she is especially excited, she jumps. And then I die a little.

2)She loves laying on the dog beds, which are always covered in fun no matter how much I wash them. It’s gross and cute all at the same time.

3) I always ask her how old she is in videos so in 18 years, when we are watching and laughing, we won’t have to guess!

4) No, I didn’t let her splash around in the toilet water.

5) And also, I don’t always sounds like such a cheeseball, it’s just that I have a sore throat and usually when I say things like, ‘Dance, Parker, Dance!’ and ‘Touchdown!’, she does funny things. But apparently not for the camera.

Over the course of my pregnancy I started reading new blogs. More blogs written by young moms like myself and less that focused on only design and fashion. I liked what I was reading and I realized that I missed writing like these bloggers were doing. Really writing (which is what I went to school for) and not just posting fluff. So slowly, once P was born, I started writing. But the thing is, I was in a bit of an un-happy fog, in varying intensities over the course of Parker’s first year. I loved being a mom, that wasn’t the issue at all, I was just dealing with anxiety which was new to me, and I sometimes just couldn’t see things in the glass is always half-full sort of way I always had before. And as I wrote, I wasn’t liking what I was publishing. I was doubting myself and my writing. I was comparing myself to other bloggers. Not in a my-blog-isn’t-big-enough way, but I just felt that I wasn’t able to portray myself as accurately as I wanted to. My sarcasm and wit were coming across as rude and mean. My jokes weren’t funny once I read them again, and my silly rants about new mom things were being taken very seriously, which isn’t how I meant them. Often times, other bloggers would write about something that was already brewing in my mind. And even though it is very likely that they were going through the same things I was, I felt like I was stealing ideas. Like they were smart enough to think of the things I hadn’t gotten to yet. I was trying to connect with other bloggers, but somehow, I felt like I was being fake, which in-real-life is a foreign concept to me. I keep it real, homies.

And so I took a break, because I could see that the feelings I was having were unnecessary. I am me, and I have always been happy with that. Why on earth was I comparing myself to others when I never have before? Why was I writing from the heart, but still sounding a little half-hearted? I was always living life with that little though in the back of my head I should be taking photos to blog about this. And it wasn’t fun anymore.

I still liked to write, but I was having trouble balancing being a mostly stay-at-home mom, working a few hours from home and a few hours from an office, and fitting in time to blog, which was supposed to be a fun hobby. So I took that break, and then when I thought I really missed it, I started again, and it was fun. But then quickly, I got a little caught up in the blogging world again, and I must be doing it wrong, because it got a little stressful. So instead of posting the guest posts I had lined up for while I was on vacation, I just left it alone and left the country. I didn’t check in once for a month. I traveling around Europe with my family, not thinking about what I would blog about. I spend a week relaxing in the Outer Banks of North Carolina and only got my camera out when I remembered, and only so that I could remember this trip for years, not so I could post about it here. I was pretty content with my decision to stop blogging.

Then I got home and sat down with my computer, a little excited to get back to my daily life. I started reading through some of my favorite blogs, and realized that the BlogHer conference was this past weekend. I saw pictures of some of my favorite bloggers together and thought that maybe one day, it would be fun to actually meet them face-to-face. I read some posts on what they learned at the conference, and I was inspired, as much as I tried not to be.

And then I realized it.

I am a blogger.

It’s part of who I am now. For three years, in some way or another, I have been putting myself out there, on the internet. And although the reason that I do it has evolved over the years, the fact that I love to blog has not. I have had my ups and downs for sure, but I don’t think I can give it up. Not now, at least. One of my favorite posts on the conference was written by Jill of Baby Rabies (the girl who gave me a Dyson!). The whole post was great, but this excerpt really hit home with me:

You are the boss of your blog. This was a note that several touched on. Do what you want! Don’t like an old post? Delete it. Want to blog about different topics? Go for it. I think you want to try to go about these things with a little thought so you don’t leave people confused, unless you want to confuse people. Then confuse them because it’s your blog and you can do what you want. You are the boss of it.

I have been struggling to find myself through my blog. What do I write about? Am I a mommy-blogger? A lifestyle blogger? Should I be taking more pictures? Posting more about my trials at the market and in the kitchen? Where do I fit in in the world of a billion and two blogs? The answer, for me, changes daily. But now, I’ll try not to care as much, to let it evolve naturally. Because this is my blog. I’ll write and post about what I want. I will try to not compare myself to others, and this blog will reflect me. I think after I finish writing this post, I may even go back and delete some things. Some things that don’t make me happy. Because this is my blog.

Today we are cleaning the house, doing loads and loads of laundry, packing our bags and giving the dogs just a few too many treats…because tomorrow we leave for two weeks in Europe! The excitement is starting to wash over me, mixed with just a little bit of oh my goodness what was I thinking trying to take a toddler on an 8 hour plane ride?!?!

The dogs (and my beloved garden) will be in good hands with my brother while we are away. I stocked the kitchen with plenty of things that I think single guys in their mid-twenties like: beer, doritos, peanut butter (the non-natural kind), sausage and cereal. Sounds kind of gross to me, so I’m also leaving him some bananas, broccoli and yogurt to balance things out.

I have a few great guest posts lined up for while I am away, and I am hoping to have a few minutes to stop in and post some updates while we are traveling! Have you ever traveled across an ocean with a baby/toddler? I am only a bit worried about the flights…Parker has never been one to fall asleep on our laps, so it may be a loooooong flight for everyone involved…

Have a wonderful couple of weeks!

Last Thursday, right before noon, I had an appointment to get my windshield fixed (thanks to a flatbed truck on the highway that was shooting pebbles everywhere). Instead of sitting and waiting the 30 minutes, Jon came and picked us up and we drove to a small lake nearby for a quick picnic.

I packed bread, cheese, a caprese salad with fresh basil, a black bean and corn salad, fruit and almond butter sandwiches. We took off our shoes and watched the boats go by and the blimp fly overhead.

Parker claimed all the cheese and strawberries, so Jon and I ate apples and the salads with some fresh rosemary bread. It was the best way to break up our day and say hi to Jon for a bit.

Once we got back home, I sat down to quickly pay the bills, hoping that checking it off of my mental to-do list would ease a bit of the anxiousness out of me. I couldn’t find the paper bills on my mess of a desk, so I spent the next hour and a half cleaning off/out my entire desk. Shredding, filing, writing checks and stamping envelopes. I wrote out a to-do list a mile long, and once I was done cleaning off the desk and paying the bills, I happily crossed them off the list, feeling just a teeny bit lighter.

Today I woke up feeling ready for the day. I have a work to-do list a mile long, but I am confident that somehow, it will get done before I leave today. My mom is keeping Parker overnight so that Jon and I can go on a date, so if I need to work until 8pm to get everything done, I can stay without feeling guilty. I can also go on a date starting at 8:30. Or so says my twenty-two year old self. The twenty-eight year old version is not so sure…

I am now off to tackle this to-do list and then leave work to hopefully have a relaxing weekend. Date night tonight, pool day tomorrow and family reunion Sunday. Then the countdown is on until I’ll be in Europe with my little family….where I will hopefully not be meeting the anxiety monster for two whole weeks…

Two nights ago I pulled my first radish from the garden. Besides herbs, it was the first product of my garden this year, and I got so excited to see it, that I waved my hands like a crazy woman to get Jon’s attention from the kitchen. He wasn’t quite as impressed.

I am getting a little nervous to leave for almost an entire month, putting my garden in the hands of my younger brother who would possibly rather spend his evenings at a local watering hole than actually watering the plants and pulling the weeds. But, I have hopes that the gardening skills that were pushed deep into my being by growing up with a gardening dad, will somehow emerge from him, if only for the three weeks that he will be living in our home and taking care of the dogs and garden.

For if he doesn’t feel the same joy in seeing them grow as I do, I know he feels joy when he eats the produce they yield. So just maybe the hope of a fresh tomato or pile of green beans will pull him out to watch over things for me.