Friday, July 20, 2012


Ah, friends.  I think this blog is about six years old or so.  Must be, since I started writing it after Nolie's birth, and next month, she turns six.  Unbelievable.

Every August, I have these blog posts printed into a book.  I read some of the old entries to the kids at night; others I don't.  But someday I hope they will read the books, and know how much they are loved, and maybe know me a little better.

But at this moment, I think it is time to end toddlerspit.  We are going through what my friend Helen calls a domestic apocalypse, and not being able to write about my whole self makes it hard to write at all.  There is a possibility we may make it through and stay together; it is equally possible we will not.  Either way, I want to be honest with you, to lay bare all of my fears and worries, ugly as they are, and yet can't betray confidences and details of what I am going through.  Not being real, though, does more harm than good, to me and to you.

I accept your well wishes, and concern, and love as I write this.  I know you are sending it our way.

Maybe there will be another blog in the future; maybe I will write a book; maybe I will just journal my way through this.  I don't know.  I have to let things happen as they will in that regard.

But I do know that writing this blog, and knowing that you have read it, and seen me a little better, and commented and supported and laughed and cried with me, has made me a better and more complete person.  Thank you for joining me on this ride.



  1. Oh geez, woman, I am sad to see you go. But I completely and utterly understand. Best wishes to you from the depths of my heart.

  2. Thank you, Cassie. Knowing that you were there, blogging alongside me, has been wonderful! And I will continue to keep up with you and your beautiful family through your writing.

  3. Dear friend,
    I will miss The Spit. I am one of the many sending well wishes, concern, love ... and strength and courage as you navigate the apocalypse. I have faith in you.

    I miss you lots.
    Hang tough.

    Sloat Sister M.

  4. Thanks, SSM. I miss you too, and I feel the love. I need it. :)

  5. Hey Jen,

    It has been quite a long time, but I've enjoyed keeping up with you through your blog. I saw you as a very strong, independent woman when I met you, and hope you see that too. Good luck with everything that is going on now - I hope it all works out for the best. And your kids are cute as heck, so you'll always have that :)

    JD (from that nanotech conference in Chennai back in the day :) )

  6. I too will miss this blog. It's been wonderful and so validating for me on so many levels being in the same child rearing stages as you and going through the same feelings that come along the way in our lives not just from raising kids but in relationships and growing of ourselves through it all. I have loved it. You are an amazing writer and I really hope to see more of it in the future. I know you all will make it through everything that is going on and the best decisions will be made, it just sucks having to go through it. Love to you all and am thinking of you and know you can come on over for a cocktail anytime!

  7. Dearest Jen,
    I'm deeply sad to hear you are experiencing difficult personal questions about your life, your marriage, and who knows what else. If you can, check-in with those of us who have experience...we may possess wisdom that may give perspective that may help. I don't know. What I do know, is that separation and divorce is devastating to children, which sounds obvious, but to witness it from the perspective from a woman who's in the last chapters of her life, I may be able to offer a bit of help.

    Reading your blog has kept me connected to your family, my sister's family, and thus the only connection to a fractured one. I am deeply disappointed and hope that one day you'll change your mind.

    In the meantime, I send you my love, compassion, and understanding. Hang in there. Faith and time can heal a lot.


  8. JD, Rhonda, Chloe...thank you for all of these loving and wonderful words. They mean the world.


  9. So long, for now. JJ. I will miss your prose and the inspiration your words always bring. You have taught me so much about being real...I also know I will read your prose again. You are destined for a life with the pen and a very willing audience awaits the next lessons you will share. Thanks for letting me grow along with you these last 6 years. I love you. TT