When I picked up my phone this morning, a calendar notice popped up. It simply said “Blogiversary (2008)”.
That’s right, today is my blogiversary: the blog is officially 8 years old. I think that makes it about 64 in blog years, because in the blogging world, that’s pretty ancient, and reasonably accurate, because in general, it is plodding along and can be heard muttering such things as “blasted SEO. When I was younger, we just wrote. Didn’t need all this confounded analytics.”
Or maybe that’s me, not keeping up with the times and the current drive to monetize, monetize, monetize. And I confess, it hasn’t been a huge focus for me; if I make enough to cover my hosting fees, I’m a happy camper, because honestly, I want to write about what I want to write about, and that would be things that make me happy, like books and travel and my family, as well as life’s frustrations, be they big or little. I want to write in my voice, which may be a little tongue-in-cheek at times. I’d like to think people come here for my stories more than my recipes.
And like the middle-aged woman who has finally come to terms with her muffin top and her dimpled thighs and her graying hairs (I’m still not there with the former), I’ve finally realized that while some people are fantastic with coming up with clever crafts for sponsored posts or fantastic recipes for some unusual products – that’s not really me.
And I’m ok with that, too.
What I am tired about is being asked if I write about alcohol, or hearing “oh, you’re a MOMMY blogger”. Never mind that my logo is a woman -strangely resembling me – sitting happily in a martini glass.
The “on the rocks” is meant to be viewed as “rocky” or “on the precipice” because if you’ve ever had an argument with a 3- (or a 10-year-old) about ill placed seams in socks or food placement on a plate being “not right”, or if you’ve had to explain to a child that they should pity someone referring to them with a series of one syllable pejoratives after being publicly acknowledged for a success, because, clearly, that other kid has the vocabulary of a toddler/Donald Trump and are terribly unoriginal and out of touch with what an appropriate jibe is (all the while crying inside because your kid goes to school with asses), you’d understand how this parenting thing is a bit of a dicey, perilous thing.
And while I’m a mom, yes, I’m still ME and MORE than just a mom.
And that is why, while I am proud of what I’ve done with Momma on the Rocks over the past 8 years, like a mom giving up her bikini for a body-shaping tankini, it’s time for me to move on to something that fits just a little better.
I’ll still be posting here while I’m sorting out all the details (and I mean all, because I still don’t have a new blog name quite figured out as this is apparently harder than naming your firstborn); in my head, I feel like if I say it out loud “It’s time for a change”, then someone will hold me to it.
In lieu of a gift, leave me a comment – what you love best, what you wish I would change, (suggested names, kidding (not kidding).
So happy blogiversary little blog. It’s been a fun 8 years, and I’m really looking forward to what’s ahead.
I’m just a little disappointed there is no cake.