Category Archives: Blogging

Happy Birthday, Abby Gabs!!

Five years ago today, I launched my brand new, shiny blog, filled with all the possibilities that an aspiring writer can hope for. I had a million ideas. And for nearly 3 years, I blogged practically every single day.

Seriously. Between February of 2011 and December of 2013, I’d published almost 450 blogs.

(I was pretty impressed with myself, especially since I had to bust out my calculator to do math.)

I’ve become a little less prolific since the heyday of Abby Gabs, but I’m still determined to keep this little site going. It’s not just given me a place to put down my thoughts, or to stretch my creative muscles, but it’s brought me so much joy. The Gabs isn’t just a blog for me. With it, I’m a creator, a writer, an artist, a comedian. I am clever, and funny, and relevant. Abby Gabs makes me a better me.

And so, in celebration of my fifth birthday as a blogger, I’d like to present to you my favorite blog from each of the years I’ve been writing for Abby Gabs. (This is my version of a clip show—you know, the one where they inundate you with scenes from episodes past? Slightly annoying, super-endearing, but always worth the watch.)

An Announcement of Epic Proportions (Published October 16, 2015)

I don’t think it will surprise anyone that my absolute favorite post from last year is the one where I announce to the world that we are finally, FINALLY parents. While it may not be my best piece of writing ever, the beautiful comments we received will forever remain in my heart. Bringing Kal home was the best day of my life, and I was thrilled to finally get to share it with my readers.

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Enthusiastically Eating My Veggies Today (Published December 11, 2014)

A dream blog involving salad, Justin Timberlake, and back-up dancers. There’s really not much else I can say. This post is quintessentially Abby Gabs.

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The Infertility List Blog (Published September 24, 2013)

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This one may be a bit of a controversial pick. Here’s why it’s my favorite from 2013: it is INCREDIBLY difficult to find humor in life’s hardest moments, and I feel like I really managed to do it with the topic of infertility here. Sure, it may be uncomfortable for some people to read, but I dove into the depths of my comedic soul to find a way to write about something very important and very personal. To me, that equals epic blog fodder. And it’s why this post isn’t just one of my favorites from 2013, but one of my top 5 favorite Abby Gabs, ever.

How a Weekend Sale At the Mall Made Me Feel Like a Granny (Published Dec. 29, 2012)

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By this time in my blogging career, I’d become much more comfortable publishing my cartoonish illustrations. Why? Because they make the funny story even funnier. This is one of those moments when my story-telling skills merged happily with my artistic-skills, creating the perfect blog of funny, which is why it made the list.

 

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I Finally Know I’m Not Alone (Published April 4, 2011)

This blog introduced the world to my arachnophobia. It also introduced the world to my ability to pull my face like a Muppet for the sake of comedy. It also introduced to the world the fact that I have no shame, and will do anything for a laugh. In short, it gave me permission to be as silly as I wanted to be on a public forum…and I never looked back.

(The only bad part about this blog is that it gave the world permission to tease me regarding my fear, because I’d teased myself. That resulted in endless spider posts to my Facebook page, in hopes that they would receive an animated and Oscar-worthy response. So…it sort of back-fired. But it was worth it.) (Mostly.)

Do you have a favorite Abby Gabs moment that wasn’t included in this list? I’d love to know which ones you love best, because it was incredibly hard to make these choices.

Except for the J.T. blog. That one makes me laugh every. Single. Time.

Look, Y’all! I Wrote A Blog! (One-Handed)

The last six (almost seven?!) months have passed by in an absolute whirlwind, with a million tiny spectacular moments suspended in time, like so many dragonflies in amber, waiting to be reexamined and  treasured in the months to come.

And the fact that it took me thirty minutes to think out and type that sentence with my left thumb, on an app from my phone, with a squirmy baby taking up four-fifths of my attention, is just one of those shiny moments I’ll remember in my old age. “Remember when I used to type one-handed?” I’ll say to no one in particular from the confines of my rocking chair, which probably won’t rock as much as levitate, and will come equipped with its own hologram television, WiFi internet connection (password protected), and locator beacon for my more widespread adventures.

I’m getting distracted. Let me start again.

I’m a mom. A fully-entrenched, pureed sweet potatoes in my hair, dark circles under my eyes, laughing till my sides hurt, worrying till my brain aches, honest to goodness, bonefide mom. I spend my days adoring this child, and my life couldn’t be more perfect.

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I have become well-versed in all things teething, submersed myself into the world of baby sign language and environment enrichment, and know way more about poop than any medical professional on the planet. (Pretty sure a doctor has to take a course called “Baby Poop: It’s Many Forms and Functions” in order to get their license. And yours truly could teach it.) But the one skill that has become the most valuable, and the one I use most frequently on a day to day basis, is the ability that moms across the globe have been perfecting for generations: that of being able to thrive with the limited use of only one hand.

In true Abby Gabs fashion, I leave you with a list of things I’ve managed to accomplish (nay — master) in my short time as a mother. Enjoy.

Things I’ve Done With One Hand (and Occasionally, My Toes)

* Picked up a dropped pacy/toy/blanket (most impressive when performed with my toes)
* Updated my Facebook status
* Perfected the “Mommy and Me” selfie

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* Made (multiple) daily cups of coffee
* In that same vein, made hundreds of perfectly toasted PopTarts (that covers the two main Mommyhood food groups)
* Cooked dinner (because warming up leftovers totally constitutes cooking)
* Pet a purring, sleeping kitty
* Loaded and unloaded the dishwasher
* Answered my phone (or, more likely, frantically smashed buttons or swiped the screen in order to silence my phone before it woke a sleeping baby.
* Rocked a restless kiddo in his car seat while blow drying my hair (this is another toes thing)
* Cheered maniacally (and relatively quietly) as my Carolina Panthers smashed their way into the upcoming Super Bowl!!
* Sorted, washed, dried, folded, and put away laundry.
* Caught an epic baby vomit with a burp cloth, singlehandedly avoiding a giant mess and therefore, more loads of laundry.
* Vacuumed. My whole apartment. Like a boss.
* Carefully maintained precious friendships with those I used to see far more regularly than I do now. (I’m a text messaging, Facebooking, digital-corresponding expert.)
* Blown my nose. (Not kidding. That’s Yoda-level parenting, people.)
* Surfed for a better television program. Not so impressive one handed. Circus-level impressive when done with toes.
* Written a blog.

While I’ve mastered the art of surviving with one hand (and sometimes toes,) the most important part of it all is finishing those tasks so I can finally, happily get back to the important stuff: playing tickle monster, steadying a wobbly baby who’s learning to crawl, snuggling him close when he wants to nap. Those things require both hands…and five-fifths of my attention. So til next time readers, stay tuned for the next installment of Abby Gabs: “Funny Things I Did With Only Four Hours of Sleep.”

When Blogs Go Silent

As a blogger, at some point you realize it’s been a few days since your last post. Maybe you’re strapped for time, or your creativity is on vacation. Either way, that need to publish something worthwhile sits on your shoulder like a tiny little troll, reminding you on a daily basis that you’re not writing.

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(Extra points to anyone who recognizes the font in this graphic.)

Yes, blog troll. I’ve noticed. Thanks for rubbing salt into a gaping, open, “Trauma in the ER” type wound. Ow.

Eventually a week goes by. Two. Maybe even three. You’re out living your life, spending time with friends, paying bills, going to the gym, doing whatever it is that you do that keeps you away from your keyboard. But every time you have a free minute to yourself, that troll starts speaking up again.

“You’re losing readers!”

“You haven’t had any page views since May!”

“C’mon, there’s bound to be SOMETHING you can write about! Sit down and do it!”

And then, inevitably, at some point in your blogging career, you will look at your last “recent” post and realize it was published almost two months ago. You’ll realize it’s been a few weeks since that troll grumbled something in your ear about “practicing your craft.”

That’s when you realize that if writing is like exercising a muscle, then you must be this guy:

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(Awwww…he’s a-DORK-able!)

Now look here, readers. (Or should I say, crickets?) I don’t mean to make light of a bad situation. I’ve had creative droughts before—some of them disguising themselves as writer’s block, others just blatant distractions like beach time and ‘Friends’ marathons–but I’ve never had one like this before.

It’s not that I don’t have ideas. I have tons of them. I’m jotting them down on my phone every single day.

It’s not that I don’t have the spare time to write. I do, I’m just using it to watch reruns of Parks and Rec instead.

My drive has put itself in park. My gumption has dumped me. My ambitions went on vacation then forgot to come home. I used to be driven, and now I’m just stationary.

Somebody stop me.

Or, don’t stop me, but cheer for me to continue rambling in a disconnected fashion until I have a blog I can publish!

In all seriousness, I feel the call to get back to that part of myself that feels most complete when I’m writing. It’s time for me to carve out that time every day to dip my toes into the creative pool inside of my brain. (No, it’s a sparkling pool of creativity, not a gross pool of brain goo.)

I’ll find my way back to it, with posts like this one. It may not deserve the Pulitzer Prize of Bloggy Awesomeness, but it’s a start. And everybody has to start somewhere.

Even glasses-wearing weight lifter guy.

Nothin’ To See Here (Except a Dance Party)

So I was messing around on my blog’s Facebook page yesterday, and I decided that, if I was ever going to maintain my internet celebrity status, I needed to get everybody on my friends’ list on board. So I sent out a huge wave of invites, hoping to pick up a few stragglers along the way.

I got twenty new page likes in a little less than two hours.

SHOCKING!

So I posted the following on my feed, hoping to inspire more folks to like and share the page:

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And it worked. I’m in awe of social media. I was up to 155 likes this morning–bringing my total of new likes to a whopping 34!!

I always keep my word, and so, as promised—for fans new and old alike, I give to you, an AbbyGabs jig.

How Abby Became Internet Famous (Thanks To That Drunk Guy On ‘Jail’ Who Turned Out To Be Pseudo-Famous)

I’ve written about a lot of things here on Abby Gabs over the years. I’ve told you funny stories about my husband, Photoshopped silly pictures of myself doing silly things, and illustrated moments in my life that have been deemed blog-worthy. I’ve discussed current events, shared with you my hopes and dreams, and written about everything from Donnie Wahlberg to depression. I’ve even tackled emotional subjects like cancer, adoption, weight loss, and infertility.

So naturally, you would HAVE to expect that out of all the many blogs I’ve posted, there must be at least one that has garnered enough attention to warrant calling myself “internet famous.”

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Well, you’d be right, readers. But never in a million years would I have guessed that the Gabs most likely to be clicked on would be one I wrote in the first year of publication about an unknown actor named Evan, and his televised night in the drunk tank on a reality show.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the most read post in Abby Gabs history, “What Happens When You Cross Cough Medicine with Bad TV?”

It’s all about our discovery of a dude named Evan Lockwood, who apparently appeared in famous movies like “Ramblin’ Rose” and “Fried Green Tomatoes.” But he’s more famous for his drunken speeches on the Spike reality show, “Jail.” This post includes a half-assed “video blog” of me (in my jammies and wearing no makeup) doing my best impersonation of Evan’s ramblin’ “Ramblin’ Rose” speech.

For your amusement:


I only hate myself a little bit for sharing this terrible video again. And all in the name of internet fame.

Anyway, I always know when Spike has aired a rerun of this particular episode, because my little blog get a flurry of activity, and I get a slew of new comments on this post. Why?

Because if you see the episode, the first thing you do (or at least the first thing I did) was turn to Google to see if this guy’s story has any validity. And here’s what pops up:

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First and foremost, I’d like to drag your attention to the fact that Mr. Lockwood does, in fact, has his very own IMDB page…which lists him as an actor in “Ramblin’ Rose,” “Fried Green Tomatoes,” and, hilariously, “Jail.”

Secondly, let the record reflect that Mr. Lockwood is also active on social media powerhouses, Twitter AND Facebook.

But the most important lesson here, friends, is that when the American public get their first taste of Evan Lockwood on Jail, the SECOND thing that pops up in their curiosity-ridden Google search is my little blog.

BOOM.

 

This phenomenon explains the awesomesauce of comments I’ve received on this post, including my all-time favorite:

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Thanks, Seifer! Not only do you have a seriously awesome name, but your suggestion that I become a famous movie actor will be subsequently stewed over, and potentially acted upon.

Ha. Acted upon.

See what I did there?

And so, in the event that one day you see little ol’ me traipsing down a red carpet, I have Evan Lockwood, the producer of “Jail,: and Seifer from Cleveland to thank.

(Thanks, guys, in case I forget to thank you in my Oscar acceptance speech.)

A Year In Review–Abby Gabs in 2014

Everyone has a favorite place. I actually have a few. There’s nothing like the instant calm that washes over me when I’m sitting on the beach, in the sunshine. I can’t describe the feeling of walking through the front door at my parents house–it’s a combination of comfort, safety, and love. And there are fewer places I’d rather be than snuggled up in my giant king-sized bed with my hubby and 3 cats, a good book in hand and my feet in warm fuzzy socks.

This place is one of my favorites, too. Abby Gabs has come to mean more to me than a super-cute website where I can write about silly things and make my readers laugh. It’s become a sanctuary of sorts to me–a place where I feel safe to share my creative side, my silly side, and my emotional side. It lets me flex my writing muscles and share my passion with the entire internet–even though only about 10 of you regularly read it. (Hi, Mom!) My blog is my safe place. My happy place.

It’s MY place.

And so today, on my 4th anniversary, I needed to come here, to delve into the last year’s worth of posts. While I haven’t been as prolific this year as I have in years past, and the tenor of my writing has changed along with the ebb and flow of our life, I still managed to bang out a few gems last year that I’m pretty danged proud of. So I’m sharing them with you here today.

But more than sharing them with you, it’s been about sharing them with myself, as a reminder of why I keep returning to this blog of mine.

Abby Gabs in 2014

Feb 2014-Dialogue: Real Life Vs. Internal
A peek into a conversation I had at a party, and the first time I referred to myself as a real-life, honest-to-goodness writer.

March 2014–Letter To My Son
This was a follow-up post for Letter To My Daughter–two of my most heartfelt blogs I’ve ever written. In fact, my husband loved them so much that he insisted they be included in our adoption portfolio. I still can’t read either of them without crying.

April 2014–A Letter To The Dancing Kid
I was all about letter writing in early 2014, apparently. I love this one because I still think about this kid during trying commutes, and when my patience is frayed, I still follow his lead. Because after all, dance is life’s most pleasurable therapy.

May 2014–Happy Anniversary,
Guys, you know it has to be true love when I blog about a television show. Even calling FRIENDS just a television show hurts my heart. It is still one of my all time favorite shows, and I quote it regularly. (Could I BE any cooler?)

Friends cast

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June 2014–Grown-Up Birthday Do’s and Don’ts
It wouldn’t be an Abby Gabs anniversary celebration without a list blog. This one touches on some birthday etiquette for the “thirty-something” year old. Also, you learn about my affection for cake.
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July 2014–To Me, From My Fiercer Self
I love this post. Like, true love. I might buy it some flowers on Valentine’s Day. In this post, I tell you all about how much my Werq class (hip-hop dance fitness) has changed my life for the better. I remind myself that I’m Beyonce’s cousin (twice-removed), and that my ferocity comes with a side of passion. It’s the best pep-talk I’ve ever given myself.

August 2014–The Day My Brother Stabbed Me
I didn’t do too many illustrated blogs last year, but this was one I’d been dying to tell since I started Abby Gabs 4 years ago. It’s a story we tell around the Thanksgiving dinner table almost every year–one of those that we look back and laugh about now. And I also love this post because I wrote it on my brother’s birthday. (Because that’s just the kind of big sister I am.)
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September 2014–Tacky Fun Day
This is a really long post filled with tons of pictures. It’s not particularly well-written or witty, but it’s on this list today because it’s proof that my husband and I know how to party. (With neon t-shirts, miniature golf, and science.)

October 2014–365 Days (Times Four)
This one always goes on the list. It’s the most profound, honest, raw blog I’ve ever written. I tell you the story of the day my husband had life-saving surgery to remove a cancerous tumor from his colon. It’s a day that changed our lives in a hundred different ways.

November 2014–It’s That Time of Year Again…
Nanowrimo has become an annual tradition that I don’t just look forward to, I crave. An entire month dedicated to the craft of writing quickly–what a concept! I’ve participated–and won–four years in a row, and even completed my first ever novel from the words written hastily in those thirty days. I’m already plotting for this November.

December 2014–Enthusiastically Eating My Veggies Today
This is it–my favorite post from last year. I love it when a dream turns into a hilarious blog post, and this one definitely takes the top prize. If you haven’t read it yet, you should if you are 1) a Justin Timberlake fan, 2) a fan of broccoli, or 3) interested in seeing how the inner workings of my subconscious function.
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January 2014–For The Love Of The Game
You guys already know I’m a fan girl, and that I was a cheerleader in high school, and that I have a tendency to be super-passionate about a lot of things. In this post, I show my hand and reveal to you how deep my love of football runs. I’m a mega-super fan. #TheMoreYouKnow

Did you have a favorite that I didn’t share in this list? Let me know below. And thank you, readers, for another year of friendship. I’m hoping to be more active in my fifth year of blogging. I’ve already got a list of blogs waiting to be written–so stay tuned!

My Recent Life As A Blogger

I had a friend tell me last night that he misses my blog.

“You need to get back to it,” he said. “I only follow one other blog. I miss Abby Gabs.”

I was humbled, flattered, and left feeling guilty for letting my readers down. “Truthfully?” I replied to my friend and reader, “I miss it, too.”

I don’t have many excuses for you when it comes to not writing here on this space I carved out for myself. I look back at posts past and wonder how I managed to pull out so many different blog ideas back then–humorous or thoughtful, commentary or comedy, I managed to find things to write about on a nearly daily basis for three years. Then, all of a sudden, it was like someone turned off the creative water faucet. Just like that, the words dried up in my mind. Occasionally, something funny or wonderful or goofy would happen, and I’d think to myself, “I should blog about that.” But I never did. And now those moments are lost forever, a myriad of memories locked away.

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When I lament the loss of my blog to my mommy friends, they all say the same thing. “You have Baby Brain.” It’s true. I eat, sleep, drink, obsess, and think about the adoption every single waking minute of every day. But while my life has been consumed with All Things Adoption this year, it hasn’t changed so drastically that I couldn’t sit down and write a blog every now and then. The honest truth of the matter is that most of those unwritten posts would have likely been about adoption: about the fundraising, and the constant worry, and the waiting, and the sorrow, and the excitement, and the anticipation—all the things that make this process what it is. There was a part of me that wanted to chronicle this journey here on AbbyGabs, but it became so intensely personal, and I worried I’d never be able to capture the emotions we’ve gone through in the form of the written word.

And so I just avoided the blog. I’d open my browser every morning and click anywhere but on Word Press. I’d spend hours on Pinterest, or play games on Facebook, or research  a new and different facet of adoption or parenthood, all in the attempt to avoid the fact that I wasn’t blogging. Not only wasn’t I blogging, I also wasn’t writing. At all. My enthusiasm for writing and getting published went up in a puff of smoke as soon as our home study was completed.

We have had a full year–one filled with friendship and support and laughter and tears and hope and failure. We have built friendships with people who have become more like family. We have planned and saved and dreamed about the baby we so desperately wish for. We lost a beloved pet, and gained a new one.

Pip and Fitz

There’s a small tug of regret for not documenting it here, as I had done so diligently for so long. But there’s also a small nugget of gladness knowing that I was just…living.

My hope is to find my way back to this space, and to the groove of blogging again. I know it’s still in me, somewhere. The creative spark reignited during Nano last month, and I’m hoping to tend to it, baby it, and turn it into a flame. And perhaps in the new year, I’ll be able to rebuild that roaring fire that took me flying through the first three years of Abby Gabs history. Until that happens, I’m going to keep living. I’m going to snuggle our new kitten, Fitz. I’m going to laugh with my friends. I’m going to keep dancing and striving for better health. I’m going to spend time with my family. I’m going to keep loving as big as the sky. And I’m going to write. Because, ultimately, writing is a part of who I am, and when I’m not doing it, I feel like a piece of me is missing.

Here’s to a renewed creative spirit.

Writing, Again.

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It comes to me in fits and starts, at first. Flashes of a scene; bits of errant dialogue; a character’s face, even if the features are still a bit fuzzy around the edges.

My desk fills with bits of scrap paper and post-its: names, places, plot points.

I find myself experimenting with conversations in the shower, talking out loud as I flesh out who these characters will be, and what their histories have been.

It’s not a book, or a blog, or a short story yet. It’s all abstract. Ideas. Snippets. A sky in shades of blue, an oak tree dripping with Spanish moss, a creaky front porch with a screen door falling off its hinges. A woman with a painful past coming home to lick her wounds, to find herself amidst the overgrown hydrangeas and too-tall crab grass of her home town.

Will it turn into another novel? I don’t know. Maybe.

But for now, my creativity begins to spill out again. I relish it; I close my eyes and let my mind wander as the story sews itself together. Something deep inside begins to glow again, and I wrap my hands around it, warming my hands on the hope of something shiny and new.

Yes, it’s true, I haven’t written anything in quite a while. Quite a LONG while. But that doesn’t take away from who I am, at my core. I am a writer, a creator. I am a weaver of words and a chronicler of stories.

I may have taken a sabbatical from the thing that I love most, but it doesn’t make me any less of a writer–despite what Pinterest and Twitter and other writers might say.

“Writers write!,” they proclaim. “Even without inspiration a writer should be honing her craft, without fail!” Their vehemence sends me cowering. And that’s no mind frame for healthy creative thinking. At least not for me.

writers write

For me, when inspiration wanes, and creativity wanders, I need to “refill the well.” And so I spent my summer reading, observing, experiencing. Living. Scrubbing all the cobwebs away from the recesses of my brain. And as the weather begins to change, and the rain patters softly on my window, I find the desire to write is slowly returning. For that, I am thankful. For that, I am excited. I am no longer cowering.

And so, a new project begins.

Grown-Up Birthday Do’s & Don’ts

Birthdays change the older you get. Once upon a time, it was all about balloons, stacks of presents, and creepy animatronic bears that play the ukelele and sing disco songs. Then, as you hit the teenage years, it became all about how much money you were going to be given so that you could hopefully (FINALLY!) buy that coveted Ricky Martin CD. And finally, as the calendar sent you rocketing toward that all important 21st birthday, all plans involved where you were drinking, what you were drinking, and who you were drinking with.

As the twenties come to a close, and you find yourself looking down the barrel of “thirty-something,” birthdays become something all together different. There may be a fancy dinner out with a spouse, or some cupcakes from your best friend. But gone are the days of “week long birthday celebrations” and “themed birthday parties” and “night of a thousand shots.”

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Yeah….pretty much.

I find with each passing birthday that I become more introspective; flipping through my memory files of the last year and taking stock of all I have accomplished, making note of the failures and heartaches, wondering how things will change in the next 365 days of my life.

And since my birthday has become such a different event with age, I figured it was high time to create a “Do/Don’t” list for adult birthdays. After all, I’m not the only one on this thirty-something rocket ship heading straight for middle age.

Abby’s Grown-Up Birthday Do’s and Don’ts:

DO: Bring me cake. No restrictions here—all sweets are fair game. Bonus if there’s chocolate!!

DON’T: Ask me how old I am turning. I think that ship sails after your 21st birthday. Besides, math isn’t my strong suit. I’m pretty sure I told no less than 4 people that I was turning 34 today. Turns out, after I pulled out my calculator, that I moved a decimal point or something incorrectly, and I’m ACTUALLY 33. What? Math is hard.

math is hard

See? Told ya.

DO: Feel free to wish me a happy birthday. Facebook messages, Tweets, emails, phone calls, birthday cards, sky-written messages of your love for me—-all 100% wonderful. I love hearing from you, especially when you’re telling me I’m awesome.

DON’T: Spend a fortune on a gift for me. Truth be told, there’s not a whole lot in this world that I need or want. I’d rather you bring me the aforementioned chocolate goodie and spend thirty minutes with me than for you to buy me a diamond studded tiara. Unless, of course, you feel so inclined. Then bring on the bling, baby. I can rock a crown like nobody’s bidness.

DO: Feel free to change the subject. Sure, you can wish me happy birthday, ask me about my plans, even sing to me in Spanish if you want to. But after that, we can talk about anything else in the world and I’d be ok with it. There’s something about no longer being a fresh-faced pig-tailed 8 year old who’s wishing beyond hope for a flying unicorn with pink wings for her birthday that makes them not so sparkly any more. And that’s ok. I’d rather talk about that thing that happened the other day than my birthday anyway.

DON’T: Let me mope about turning a year older. It’s going to happen. Inevitably, about a week before my birthday, you will find me in a melancholy, mopey, morose place. Remind me that 33 isn’t that old, I still have plenty of time to accomplish my goals and chase my dreams. Tell me that I’m crazy–there are no gray hairs to be found atop my head. Shake your head and laugh at me when I worry out loud that I’m getting laugh lines. And above all else, give me permission to keep wearing my favorite nerdy tees, despite the fact that I probably should’ve stopped wearing them at 26.

And finally, DO: Bring me cake. I know….I already mentioned that before. But seriously. I like cake.

Inevitable Changes

Twenty-two days.

I’ve never gone so long without writing. No since I started up Abby Gabs, anyway.

It isn’t as if I haven’t thought about it. I have. Every morning, as I’m singing away in the shower, I have the same thought. “I should write a blog today.” And then, as the soap washes down the drain, I wrack my mind for a topic to write about. And quite frankly, for the last three weeks, I haven’t been able to come up with a single one.

bang head here

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Well, that’s not entirely true. I could tell you all about the success I’m continuing to have with my weight loss. Dazzle you with before/after pictures, and regale you with tales of the gym. But the truth is–the weight is coming off slowly, there’s no major number or picture to share, and it’s just part of my daily life now. —>Don’t get me wrong, that’s a wonderful thing! But I’m not so sure it’s “blog-worthy.”

I could write about the silly thing that happened at the grocery story the other day, or the time I walked into an occupied dressing room at the bra store, or the funny conversation I had with Brian in the car on the way to the movies. But those don’t necessarily feel like headlines anymore. True, they were my blogger’s bread and butter for almost 3 years, but as our lives morph and change into something brand new, I’m beginning to wonder if my writing style won’t change with it.

You see, our lives have been totally taken over by this adoption process. It’s all we talk about, it’s all we focus on, it’s all we do. The last couple of months have been dedicated solely to fundraising, and if we aren’t actively making signs, writing up ads, sending out Facebook messages and Tweets, and setting up for a major fundraiser, then we’re actually DOING the fundraiser. (You would be shocked and amazed at how much time and energy it takes to have a rummage sale—especially when you have THREE storage units filled with donations to sell!) While we’ve managed to put quite a nice chunk of change in the bank, I feel like my brain cells are totally absorbed by this whole process. Creativity has been scarce around here, and when I’ve been forced to use it, the entire extent of it goes toward fundraising.

Let’s get to the meat of the issue here, readers (if you’re still even reading…) When I started this blog, it was with the intent that this would be a silly place for you to hang out. Somewhere for you to come to get your daily giggle. I went to great lengths to be the silliest blogger on the internet, to set myself apart from the rest with my weird faces, silly illustrations, and goofy Photoshopped tales. When I can’t think of a topic to write about that falls in that “make ’em laugh” category, I wind up not writing at all. And that’s the current predicament which has left us all without our daily dose of Abby Gabs.

Click for source

Click for source

I think, as a writer, it’s important for me to allow myself to grow and change. I also think it’s hugely important not to put pressure on myself to fit in a “niche.” And so, as my focus shifts, I have to learn how to continue to be a writer as it fits in my new life.

My promise to you, readers, is that I’ll do my best to keep it fun to read. It may not always be funny, but it will come from the most honest part of myself.

And my promise to myself is to keep finding the time, and the inclination, to write: without reservation, without fear of being judged for changing, with the same gusto as before.

Thank you for being patient with me on this journey. I know I’ll find my way back to my creative side eventually. For now, my thoughts are consumed with ‘all things adoption.’ And really? That’s how it should be, for now.