Sometimes people are afraid to tell you stuff, like that one time I wore a macaroni necklace ALL DAY & no one had the heart to tell me.
You guys, over the many years I’ve been writing Priss & Vinegar I’ve noticed something kinda funny: some of you are sheepish about telling me you read the blog. Maybe it’s because you think my writing is crap and you’re embarrassed for me (reasonable), but I get the impression that some of you feel like you’ve surreptitiously stolen the key to my Lisa Frank diary.
And it’s true: what I write about is often wildly personal, like the births of my children and that one time I kind of hated my husband for a little while. But I wouldn’t send these stories out into the universe if I wasn’t 100% comfortable sharing them. Even more than that, I WANT you to read them. The single greatest part of writing Priss & Vinegar is the incredible conversation I get to have with all of you. Your comments challenge and inspire me every day. You have no idea how much.
It gets weird for me, too, sometimes. When we haven’t hung out in a while and you ask what I’ve been up to, odds are you already know I went camping last month and that Brooks is currently obsessed with his Iron Man costume. So then I’m awkwardly repeating myself without actually knowing whether I’m repeating myself, and you’re forced to hear a story you (maybe) already know. Go ahead and stop me, PLEASE. I don’t want to be boring and, let’s be real, if our kids are there we only have about 45 seconds to catch up before someone falls down/demands snacks/pees pants.
Am I totally off about this? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve misinterpreted social cues (awkward circa ALWAYS) but I’d love your thoughts on the subject. Or really, your thoughts on anything relating to Priss & Vinegar. Your feedback is utterly invaluable as the blog continues to evolve. Tell me what you’ve hated, what you’ve really connected with, what you wish I’d stop writing about, already.
Thank you, as always, for reading. I’m humbled and honored to be a small part of your day.
Be prepared. This will get gushy and maybe a little weird. I found you in a completely weird way about 3(ish?) years ago. My husband is Jennifer Tomasco Burke’s cousin and somehow I read a comment exchange on her Facebook page about the fact that she enjoyed your blog. Being a complete blogoholic at the time, I figured out who you were/what your blog was because I needed to know what I was missing. I tracked P+V down and was hooked. Then you went away and I was sad. But you continued to tweet and I was excited to find you blogging again. Anyway, I really enjoy your blog. You have a wonderful take on motherhood that totally resonates even though my kids are much older–14 and 10. You have great style in clothes (hello, true preppy, have you been in rehab?) and we like all the same food groups. And, most importantly, every blog post makes me laugh. Out loud, as the kids say. Thanks for showing up and sharing.
Oh, I love this! Thank you for reading and sticking with me through my prolonged absence, Marcy. You are indeed one of my few readers who’s also engaged on Twitter — major YAY. I have a soft spot for Twitter in this Snapchat world ❤️
Thank you for sharing how you found Priss & Vinegar. It’s always a fascinating journey through different networks of friends and family and social media. I love it all!
Please let me know if you have any posts you’d like to see (or posts that you’re majorly OVER), as I so value feedback from longtime readers. Thank you again for your sweet note & continued support!