If she only knew all the stuff I’d written about her.

“Welcome to my blog.”

Those just might be the most overused words in the English language. (Except maybe “Are we there yet?”) Everybody and their Aunt Linda has a blog.

I’ve been writing a column in an actual newspaper made of wood pulp for what seems like a hundred years (a happy place known widely throughout rural Southeastern Connecticut since 2007 as “Tales from the Crib”).

I was happy there. Times were simple then. And from my newspaper treehouse, I hid away from the “blogosphere” — a place that sounds a lot like Thunderdome.

So yeah, I’m more than a little slow to this blog party…and the Twitter party…basically any party. I mean, I never even went to prom.

But if I learned anything from Breaking Bad (and I learned so very many painful life lessons), it’s that some things are worth getting a late start on.

I hope this is one of them.

I’ll still write here about my kids and family and faith — stuff that makes me laugh and stuff that makes me weep and stuff I want to do better. And I’ll still write about all that from the comfort of my home and my elastic-waist yoga pants that almost never experience yoga.

But with this fancy new blog, I’ll throw in some pictures. And I’ll cast the net a little wider. And we can go back and forth more about the stuff that makes us all laugh and cry and aspire and spit nails. And you can invite your friends if you want.

I’m not done yet. I’m just graduating to the next level.

If I’m weirdly inspiring my daughter through all this, then I guess I better raise my game.  I mean, the kid dedicated her book of 3rd grade poems to me.

 “To my mom who inspires me to be an author when I grow up.”

Now, if I could just keep her from actually reading the stuff I’ve written about her…