It rhymes with “promise.” Except it’s from a mom, so you can’t actually trust it.

Have you ever made a promise to a child?

If you haven’t, don’t. Seriously, don’t.

Why, you ask?

Let me tell you a story.

Nims, my youngest gift, asked one day afterschool if she could have a friend over during the upcoming weekend.

I told her sure, but if I’m being completely honest, I wasn’t sure what I’d said sure to.

You see, I’d just finished teaching seven classes full of children that day from roughly 10 am to 3 pm. If you want to do the math, that’s five hours of standing at the front of a class talking, plus umpteen desks full of children not listening, which equals me hearing the ocean from 3:10 pm on, when I refuse to listen to another child call my name, need a pencil or ask to have someone over.

So “sure” didn’t actually mean sure.

“You promise?” I heard right after the sure. I’m sure her little face just lit right up.

And I nodded, because once again, “you promise” sounded like waves crashing against a rock.

Lo and behold, come Friday afternoon, there was an extra kid in tow as the school day ended.

Because I had promised.

How I Started Blogging

When I was a little girl, I had two dreams:

• To be a dance teacher and a magazine owner

• And to have a normal family.

Neither of those dreams came true so instead, I became a regular teacher with a pretty whackdoodle family.

But that’s okay because I’ve learned that life’s not perfect. Far from it.

And we don’t always get the dream. Not even close.

I got married super young. Way too young. Young enough that I didn’t have a clue what I was doing except to be just stupid enough to do it.

Fast forward ten years, and my marriage was in a rough place. It’s hard enough out here for the married couples who started out right side up.

We’d faced just about every disaster a too-young couple could face, financial, spiritual, physical, you name it.

I began writing a private blog as a way to clear my head, control my thoughts, and keep them to myself in a secure, anonymous place.

At first, I didn’t have to worry about what others might say. But as social media grew, my conversations with other women led me to believe I might have something they needed to hear.

So I shared my first blog post. And people loved it.

The attention was exhilarating in the beginning of my blogging career. However, I soon became overwhelmed. People didn’t always like what I had to say, and that was not good because my people-pleasing disease couldn’t handle the criticism.

I wanted to curl up in a little ball and not be “known.”

I didn’t think the writing world was a fit for a sensitive soul like me.

I shut down my blog, took a day job, and for the next four years, carried on about my life.

My family started to change, as families do. My son went away to college, our first dog died, I hit forty.

Then came the dreaded C word (and I don’t mean cancer).

Overnight, all of the world stopped in an instant, and I started to question my very existence.

Blogging, Part II

When I decided to try blogging again, I set new rules.

Who was I going to be on this world wide web? What was I going to feel like needed to be said? When was I going to choose to be quiet?

Now I blog by my own rules, and I’m satisfied with my online presence.

I no longer feel the need to go, be or do.

I don’t have to have an opinion about everything under the sun.

I can write or I can be silent. My choice.

I can be funny or serious, happy or sad, angry or joyful. How I choose to show up is my business.

Today I write from an authentic place, pen and sell my novels for pleasure, and attempt every day to live life with gratitude.

It’s too short to be lived any other way.

I’ve also been alcohol free for over a year, a celebration story that will reveal itself little by little on these pages as time goes on.

And I’ve gotten better at keeping my promises, but I’m not perfect.

So maybe “momises” should actually be “mom misses” because that’s how I feel pretty much all the time.

Maybe one day I’ll get better at this wife and mom thing.

But for now, happy reading!

With love,

Toni