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An introduction of why I’m here.

Hi, I’m The Truth Mommy!! I’m trying to get out there and be known for giving , “the truth about momming”, and everything else I know or can tell you. I’m currently working on/towards a book.. I’m Here to journal my good days and bad days and everything in between. Hey, don’t blame me if you don’t like it, I’m just telling it like it is.
Telling it like it is, regardless of judgement. I am a recovering addict. My recovery Date is November 1- 2015. I didn’t do it without help, support, medical support, motivation, tears, sweat, pain, family support, and my amazing husband.
For years I thought I had it under control, and could get or just stay better (whether ‘better’ meant my sobriety, or my mental health depended on the time) for, my kids. Always trying to fight, for my kids. Doing everything I could, everything I was supposed to do, to bring my family home. Get better for them all, never for myself. It never seemed to be enough, but that wasn’t the case- the case was, I just wasn’t afraid enough, it wasn’t real enough, I didn’t care about me, or what happened to me anymore. No one else did, why should I? The 2 men in my life (baby daddies if you will), that were supposed to be a part of my support system, part of my family, had completely destroyed my self esteem. They both took advantage of my vulnerability, they fed off of it. I would move mountains for both of them, I’d jump when they said jump. HELL They had my children, what was I supposed to do?? That my friends, is a story for a different post. Not today Satan. This post is about ME. I can’t won’t distract myself with that type of pain, going back to that will ruin more than my entire day. I live with so many resentments. I cannot even begin.

So, here is where this story really begins, this is going to lead me to where I am today. The day I woke up, totally Naked, alone, head hanging over one corner of my bed, not even aware of the date or time, SO confused, my house completely ransacked, all of my hidden belongings, including my rent money, drugs, and jewelry were GONE. My dresser COVERED in confectionery sugar.
That was on Halloween, in 2015. Halloween is supposed to be a fun day, a special day, a day for trick or treating, dressing up silly, plowing candy, and it just so happens that it is one of my babies Birthday’s, 10/31. That was the day I knew I had had enough, I had to stop. I had to live. I was alive, and I had NO idea how. Eventually, that same day, I put the pieces together, looking through my phone, my laptop ( at the time my life line), making phone calls, frantically searching my house, wracking my brain. I remembered exactly what happened. I know exactly what happened. All I can say on here, with honesty, is that MY ANGEL was with me. He must have been because I was literally left in my apartment to die. People had been with me, people had used with me, and those same exact people had robbed me, and then left me. Those people, I grew up with. Those people, 1 of them, I had saved before with narcan. And they left me in my bed, thinking I was DEAD… to die. They were the ones who were always afraid and would run. At least 1 of them had been there for all 5 ODS that I had saved at my house. I never let or left anyone to die. F$#@ YOU for that. Later one that day, I got myself together, got myself “right”, and then made a bunch of important phone calls. I was retracing the steps I had taken the last time. The time I had 2 and a half fucking years of sobriety. The time I could say with what I thought to be my full honesty, I do not know how I EVER did that, I could NEVER EVER do it again. I could’ve sworn that I was afraid enough to never go back. That I had lost enough, to never want to go back. The 2.5 years had only come to an abrupt end earlier that year, I want to say May, is when I relapsed, but that wouldn’t be the full truth. I had relapsed long before I began using that way again. This time though, I was DONE. So here I am, more than 5 years sober. I won’t say I am cured, I will say, I wanted to live and be there for my children, and I AM.

I have more stories to tell than you could imagine. I’ve been to Prison, (not jail), multiple times, for petty things like probation violations etc. I’ll never forget how scared I was in the back of that van the very first time. My first 30 days. I never could have imaged how many more times I’d be in that same situation again, or that each stay would become longer and longer, and take more and more from me and my family. I had a baby in jail, and didn’t get to see my baby until a few months later. Can you imagine that? I held that baby for 2 days, no one was going to take that time from me, no matter how hard they tried. I am only human, not a monster. Humans should never treat others the way I was treated. Shackled to a bed being scorned and threatened for breast feeding my baby? It was inhumane.

If you’ve come this far, before you form any negative opinion of me personally, if that’s where your thoughts are, keep reading first, and you may just see things from a perspective you might think you’d never see, or even want to understand.

MIND YOU this; the day I was officially released , sometime in late November, My PO wanted me to go back to prison, she fought tooth and nail for me to finish up another 6 month bid, for NOTHING. Once my lawyer presented the LOADS and LOADS of paperwork she had accumulated and put together for my case; all of my negative tests, the meconium sample, and the inaccuracy proven of the quick cups they used, (the ONLY one that picked up a food grade of positive), once she finished her statement, The Judge, a different one from who sent me there, an understanding man with kind eyes, pretty much told my PO off, looked over to me, and with SUCH sincerity, apologized to me. he said I NEVER should have been forced to have my BABY in prison, and told my PO that holding me was completely inappropriate, and unnecessary , as I had IMMEDIATLY , willingly PAID FOR & took hair follicle test, multiple urine’s at multiple labs, and even the hospital records that showed my baby and I tested positive for NOTHING!!!!! OH AND!! This is great, my due date was 11/1/13, my one and only fail was on 10/12/13, I was sent back 10/18/13, ANDDD MY COURT DATE WAS 10/31/13 . So, yes, as you can probably imagine, at midnight on 10/31, I laid on my bottom bunk in my cell, praying to GOD to PLEASE not let me have this baby right then and there, PLEASE just get me to the courthouse tomorrow. 7 years later and I haven’t spoken of this, but I remember it all SO clearly right now, like it was MUCH more recently than that. I remember envisioning what would happen if I was in front of the judge and dramatically went into labor, or in the patty wagon on the long ride there. I was so afraid. I felt pain. Pain I did not remember, but yet I knew what was happening. So I started watching as the guards did their rounds… every 15 minutes. My contractions were 15 minutes apart. At 12:45, I gave in, while a C.O was rounding, I stood at my cell door’s tiny window waiting. When the flashlight hit my eyes, I said… ” ‘I’m in labor” , he replied, ” Are you pregnant?”, than, ” Are you sure its labor?”.

I spent 6 months in prison, pregnant. It was not my first rodeo BUT pregnant?? I went in February 23rd, and on April 20th, I was told I was pregnant. So that was fun.

After wrapping up those 6 months, I was released directly from there July 1, was out and happy , with a DCF worker and PO up my butt, I was doing everything right, everything they told me to do, I did it and more. Including calling a number for a color, ( pink), which was called for 2 random urine’s a week, AA/NA meetings, working on putting my family back together,and Let me just say – WE WERE KICKING ASS!! Hell we were on the road to getting our family back., AND add a 3rd addition. I’d been sober for 10 months, called my color super late one day as I was laying in bed stuffing my face with caramel apples and breakfast sandwiches. We had no car, but borrowed one, I did my thing, went to walk away and BAM I fail the quick cup. I seriously thought my PO was JOKING because we were just talking about how AMAZING everything was going!!

The following days and weeks were HORRIFIC. I was losing my mind. How the FUCK could this happen? How the FUCK did I fail this one urine? I went to the hospital and gave a supervised urine in the ER, and another an hour later at the lab. I even offered a hair follicle test in which my PO said I’d have to wait at least 7 days. So i did JUST that!! 8 days later, I went and paid $85 for a full panel hair follicle test. The results didn’t come in until I was gone, but it was ONLY the quick cup I failed. Anyways, after being tortured,tormented, and followed, by my PO with police, DCF, & just trying to prove myself innocent, for 2 weeks, I am sent back to prison, after I did everything possible to prove my innocence.

Listen, I’ve been pregnant multiple times, and not ONCE did I EVER use drugs while pregnant. NEVER. However, at my Wednesday night meeting, the night before that power monster of a day ,(10/12), I had devoured 3 everything bagels , and had 1 on the ride to do my urine. BRO, I WAS 8.5 MONTHS PREGNANT and HUNGRYYY!!! NOW LISTEN!! I WOULD NEVER EVER HAVE THOUGHT THAT what happened would happen!! I have always called it a myth, ALWAYS called bullshit on it.
It was actually the lab tech that did my hair follicle test who offered this information to me. Poppy seeds. Yep mmmhmm I KNOW!!

My PO wouldn’t ever believe that, she didn’t. My counselor, my doctor and my pysche , all came up with that same answer, with no persuasion or even HINTS…… Poppy seeds. Food Grade levels can show up on lab tests, they are very VERY small numbers because the food has minute traces, a quick cup can pick up the food grade levels, HOWEVER, it can NOT decipher the actual level/ amount ingested.

TELL ME, how could that whole situation NOT HAVE fucked me up mentally??
How could it not have destroyed me and made me and angry, violent, mean person?

How am I not one big walking ball of HATRED?


Well, it did for a while, and I was for a bit. SO that was that.

Now, here I am today, with my family..
“Stronger than ever, Beating all the odds that have been against me. ” As I suppose they say. There are so many times I dwell on my past, and my present. I always wonder…

Yes, there was a time where I was a bit of a shitbag, & I was living a bad life… making bad choices.
Yes I made the decision to use solely on my own at 19– I chose the places I went to and the people I hung out with. I made the decisions that I made on my own. I promise though, I never knew they would lead me to where I’ve been, and what I’ve gone though.
I never knew I would become so addicted. I never knew that drugs would eventually destroy my life, yet leave me here to suffer.
A lot of my most important friends and relationships, are dead. I’ve said goodbye to FAR too many people I love.

So theres that story. I’m ready to tell it and I want it to be heard, and known about. So share it. Tell me your thoughts. Does my story sound familiar, or are you reading this is complete awe, because you thought this sort of thing only happens on Netflix, HBO, only on TV.
A lot of people may blame me, call me a terrible person, shame shame shame – but today,
I can let that shit roll right off my shoulders. You could not walk a mile in my shoes at my age, and I probably couldn’t walk a mile in yours either.

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Imaginary friend?

Ive been sitting here browsing, searching, reading, skimming, falling into every internet rabbit hole I’ve come across, almost ALL day.

2 of the kids are doing their remote schooling online, the little one is building, destroying, rebuilding, shes in the family room letting her imagination run WILD! She asked to use my cloth measuring tape, so I let her, 10 minutes later, she walks in with her ankles tied together by the measuring tape, and stated that her “Best Friend” did this to her.” Hey, you go girl. She has been doing the best friend thing a lot lately, and believe it or not, i absolutely ADORE it! Her ‘best friend’ is not invisible, and her name is Lilliana. It all reminds me of my childhood imaginary best friend, Sandra ( SAUUN-DRA), who also is not invisible. At around 3-4 years old as well, I would come out of my room wearing a giant sun hat, my mothers matching heels, and a leather jacket and say something like… ” Lori, your daughter is not here right now, we are off to the beach and wanted to borrow some makeup before we go.” (eye roll / giggle) – I had quite the imagination.

My oldest child is in school. She does not live here, but comes on the weekends. She is about to be a teenager ( shes 12 now) , but in her mind, shes going on 30. I can’t with her. She was my best friend, by my side through everything as I entered adulthood, since I had her in my late teen years. Now, I’m lucky if she wants to see me or do anything with me. My mind keeps going back to when she was a baby. When she would sing and dance with me, when she thought I was the best and most amazing person in the entire world. I go back, and it kind of breaks my heart. I think I am supposed to take all the blame for what happened. I’m supposed to live with what I did for the rest of my life. I lost my children deep into my addiction, as I was struggling severely to climb out of it. I never got her back. Her dad would never fully give her back to me, and if I wanted ANYTHING at all, never mind anything extra, I would have to go to court, with her father and his attorneys, fighting tooth and nail to get even a 15 minute phone call 3xs a week. It was bad. Over the last few months, I’ve come to a conclusion, as I am tiered of fighting. That is, that I am done part time parenting. I told my ex that 2 days ago, as today is January 11th, 2021, and we’ve not seen her per her choice since December 20th 2020. We were all exposed to COVID right before Christmas. My mother had come over on that Saturday before, and Sunday morning her husband tested positive for covid, the next day she did to. So my plan of action was to keep my daughter here, quarentined, isolated, with all of us who were also exposed- her father had other plans for her. I think it was SICK, and spiteful. He made me bring her home, to her fathers home, where there is a 2 year old baby, him, and his wife. Why would he rather potentially expose his family to this, than allow her to stay isolated with us? I was even SICK AT THE TIME!!! Once she got home, her stepmother packed her a backpack of food/snacks/ essentials, gave her a bottle of disinfectant to spray every time she had to go to the bathroom or even open her bedroom door. She could not leave her room for 5 days!!!!! OK, there is something wrong with that. Am I wrong?? I am willing to look at things from various perspectives, and this situation, I am blinded by spite. So, I guess we will have to come back and reflect on this in the coming weeks. We shall see…

I have to take a ride to Walgreens, So this is it for now. Maybe I’ll add more later. I think im going to come home and work on my glitter tumblrs & sublimation station !! I can catch you all up on that soon!! I literally turned my EPSON WF printer, into a SUBLIMATION printer!

I know , I know. I’m so proud! Okay Ya’ll, have a wonderful MONDAYYY!! :]

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Flashbacks and more getting off track…

It was not very hard for many of us to say goodbye to 2020. I know a handful of people, some who have not stayed up to watch the ball drop in decades, yet this year they had to. They had to literally watch 2020 leave, open the door for it, and SO excitedly WAVE GOODBYE to 2020 and hugely welcome in 2021. There were no such theatrics in my home, not by me anyways. I won’t be so excited like that until I can get out of this damn house!

Today is the 4th day of 2021; January 4th, 2021. The last time there was any type of uninterrupted normalcy around these parts, was in March of 2020. Yes, I know that Covid started long before the date of March 12th 2020, (the last normal school day for my children&I), but only then is when we were personally affected by the global pandemic. As far as I can tell you. It all sort of brings me back, back to 9-11-01. To this day I can still remember exactly where I was,( 7th grade), the classroom I was in, (History on the yellow team), the teachers NAME (Mr. Goodell), and all the rest of what went down on that horrific, nightmare of a day, in the United States. I remember by the time I got home, I was so afraid. We lived in Boston Ma, not in New York, so why was I so scared?

I remember those 2 days, better than any thing else I can remember from that long ago. However, this is much Larger. This is a global wide pandemic. I think of it is as the Plague of our time.

Another event that I can clearly remember, was in the 4th grade. I lived in Rhode Island that year and that year only, Lincoln RI. I do not remember anything about the school I was in, what the classsrooms looked like, or even what a normal day in my life was like back then, but I do remember the very serious bomb threat that my school received on one very disgustingly hot, humid day. The caller had said that there was X amount of bombs hidden throughout the schools. I remember the weather because the entire school had to evacuate the building, along with 2 or 3 other schools in the area. We stood outside in the humid air for HOURS, waiting for the bomb squad, and my at the time best friend Natasha, actually nearly fainted due to the humidity, but the nurse said she collapsed and called it a day. Thinking back on it, they were creating some type of distraction, or other, by not only confusing US KIDS, but also our parents, relatives, and anyone else, by holding us outside, yet not yet telling any families of the going ons yet, and later that day, once we were released ( I want to say it was approaching nightfall at that point), they sent us all on random routes on random buses and drove us around for another hour or 3, shuffling us all over. To say that My mother was PISSED, would be a large understatement. She had no idea where I was for the majority of the day! Does anyone else remember this?? That day was not anywhere near as scary, traumatic, threatening, dangerous ETC- as this, no, but it does put into perspective the things we may remember into adulthood, and how we perceive these events as children.

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I am all my kids have all my kids have during the long summer days..

I am all my kids have during the long summer days. They do not have people who want to take them for exciting sleepovers, or to the zoo, the pool, The movies, The park, beaches , the aquarium, a lake, splash pads, indoor parks, museums, or to any water park . They have me , and they have Pat, who is only able to do these things on the weekends or on holidays with us, because someone has to work to provide for our family. Therefore, it’s all up to me. The entire summer is up to me.

It’s up to me to keep my cool, at home or at these places. It’s up to me to make sure all 3–5 bellies are fed & full at least 3 times a day & to make sure there’s enough snacks & drinks. packed when we’re going out. It’s up to me to make sure each child stays hydrated on the hot , humid, summer days, and even on the not so hot & humid ones. It’s up to me to rub sunscreen on 4–6 pairs of shoulders & all exposed skin, to spray bug spray on each child from head to toe. It’s up to me to keep my eyes focused on at least my 4 little people & to know where each one is at all times, to make sure they are safe, being safe, following the rules & not killing / hurting each other, or anyone else for that matter. It’s me that has to watch the cool tricks of my only boy while he’s in the pool, or on the monkey bars, at the same time I’m trying to watch the new discoveries of my oh so growing 5 year old, and the small jumps she can do that seem so enormous to her. Then there’s the big kid tricks that Hailee has to show me.. and she wants me to record every single attempt and every which way she can try. At the very same time as all of that, I have this little nugget who wants to be big, ( they all want to be so big), this little girl who wants to play with her siblings and do all the amazing, big things that they’re doing, without me at their side, holding their hands, without swimmies on their arms rubbing roughly on their skin. If she’s not doing that, she’s attached to my hip or chasing me around crying for me to pick her up. This beautiful little girl who understands SO much for being 2, but at the same time does not understand the whys, or the how’s. She wants to adventure on her own, and always at the worst times, and she is so innocent to the dangers of this world, so it’s up to me to keep her safe. To keep all of them safe.

I’m somehow supposed to split my focus and attention in 4–5 different ways no matter where we are, ESPECIALLY in a pool, or in a crowded place that has multiple exits.

It is up to me to make sure I get all kids home safely, to make sure each child is buckled properly and safely on the car rides to and from. It’s my job to lay down the rules before we get to where we’re going, each and every time, even though sometimes it seems a waste of breath, and I’m repeating and reminding these rules more often then not. It’s up to me to do the dishes after most meals, (if I don’t want to be eating with crusty utensils ) , to come up with or find, and cook those meals the kids will hopefully eat. It’s up to me to check on their cleaning habits, to vacuum up crumbs and to mop up spills, no matter how many times they’ve screamed ANTS!! To scrub the play- doh off the chairs , and savagely do the same to any carpet stains ( see; potty training). It is up to me to clean up the remnants of a wasteful experiment gone wrong, after she “already cleaned it all up”. It is me who separates the clothes, colors from whites. It is me who puts the clothes in the washer, the dryer, and then folds the 4 loads of laundry we’ve somehow accrued in a 24 hour time span. It is me who will sometimes leave it all in a giant, wrinkled pile on the couch for 2 days, so that I can take the kids outside for the day. It is me who makes sure all 6 of us has clean clothes to wear, bathing suits, towels, etc. It is mostly up to me to call bed time, every . single . night, my job to read to them, or to make sure that they have read for at least 15 minutes every night, to trust their word because I am just too exhausted to have them read chapters to me every single night. It’s my job to make sure what they’re watching is appropriate, and to catch them when they’re being sneaky and have their phones in bed. Also, it is very much up to me to remind my 2 oldest that when they have sleepovers, they NEED sleep. That it’s okay to stay up until 2–3am ONCE, maybe twice , but it is absolutely not something she can do every single night with or without a friend over. Why?? Well it’s my job to explain WHY. Why what?? Why EVERYTHING. Literally, everything, and if I’m not sure of the actual answer, it is up to me to come up with something believable and realistic quickly enough that they do not hear in my voice that I’m pulling these reasons out of thin air. There’s always a why. If I recorded my everyday life, I’m answering the question “why” at LEAST 100 times a day between each child & man child , and my reasonings are mostly, because I said so, and often made up , and a lot of the time, my oldest knows that, and the others are left to ponder.

I am the one who makes the plans. I call or text the other parents, RSVP to the birthday parties, make small talk with other parents, invite friends over. It is my job to keep food in the house, at the same rate as my 2 oldest & my man child , are mowing all the snacks, fruit and junk, healthy and not, usually in a matter of 2 days. It is my job to know sizes, likes and dislikes, to keep up with what’s “trending”, so I can continue to try to understand my daughter and her friends ( 3 times over).It is up to me to make sure these kids are safe on TikTok , Roblox , Snapchat , watch party, and whatever else my daughter is on. She shows her siblings, the apps and to my son, “ it’s so unfair” that she has a phone, is allowed to have these apps, can walk to the corner store with a friend, can stay up later than him…. nothing is fair, life isn’t fair & that is just NOT what he wants to hear. So when he storms off to his room and slams his bedroom door… it is up to me to go into his room at some point after allowing him to cool off, and it is up to me to take away the XBOX he was playing, when he was supposed to be in bed. It’s up to me to take away the privileges of games, phones & other electronics when they are abusing those privileges. I’m the good guy half the time, and the bad guy the other half.

It’s me who calms the screaming and crying, wipes the tears, cuddles my babies, settles the fights, plays pretend, separates the arguing before it gets too rough, handles the booboos of all sorts. I have to be tough, but I have to be loving & kind. I have to teach lessons, but I have to show love and understanding. I have to be their friend, but more importantly, their mother.

I am the worrier of all worries, the one who has to have things done the right way, the one who has to teach my kids right from wrong, and to be honest with them, even if it’s things I don’t always want to be honest about.

It is up to me to make sure 4–6 people are bathed, fed, brushed their teeth & flossed, and tucked into bed each and every night with kisses, hugs & a cup of water…. multiple.times.a.night.

I am the keeper of snacks, sunblock, bug spray, happiness, sadness, cuddles, waters, candy, love , meals, gifts, prizes, surprises, the party planner, cab driver, chef, tour guide, maid, day planner, keeper of appointments, photographer, hoarder of ridiculous artwork that means so little to most, but so much to me. I am their teacher, & with the help of Pat, I keep them busy, and happy , healthy and loved, I remind them of things from when they were babies, I show them pictures & take their pictures to capture the memories that will one day soon be forgotten about. I do all that I can to make lasting memories & keep my babies close. I try to teach them the value of family, and that we are all each other has, so that they grow up and lean into one another. I want them to know who was there, and who was not.

I want them to know the truth, and I want them to know how truly loved they are by us.

I do not want them to have such high expectations of our families outside of this house, but I do however want them to have high expectations and standards for their own families when they grow up.

I want my kids to be loved more by their families.

I am not a perfect mother or anywhere near a perfect person, and it has not always been this way. I am in recovery, and have struggled with my addiction on and off for 15 years. Pat and I fought long & hard to be where we are today, to be the parents we are today, and we wouldn’t change it for anything.

It takes a village, but our village is small, and most only come around at their own convenience. We don’t need them. I don’t need them. All I want is for my kids to know and see the love, and have memories with our families, like I did when I was little.

Its okay, they do not need that. They have us , and they have each other. They are not burdens, or problems, they aren’t baggage or trouble… they are beautiful little amazing children, who only want to love and be loved. They have SOO much love to give.

It would mean the world to them to have their whole big family present and involved in their lives & activities. They don’t need much to have the best day ever… just some 1 on 1 time & attention from a grandparent, aunt or uncle, or even just a friend.

I will say it again, they don’t need it. They don’t need forced love and affection, or fake smiles & pictures for their social media pages… they don’t need selfish people, or people who chose favorites. They don’t need your birthday gifts , or cards… they don’t need your bullshit phone calls every few months and bullshit promises. They need love.

I am all my kids have during these long summer days. There is no one claiming to take them here or there on this weekend, that weekend , this night or that night. There is no one offering to take 1 child for the day, or offering to help out by babysitting for a night so we can go out. We don’t need it.

We have each other, and my kids will grow up knowing how important that is, and they will be NOTHING like ANY of you.

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Welcome to My New Parenting Blog

Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.

— Oscar Wilde.

This is the first post on my new blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates.

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Introduce Yourself (Example Post)

This is an example post, originally published as part of Blogging University. Enroll in one of our ten programs, and start your blog right.

You’re going to publish a post today. Don’t worry about how your blog looks. Don’t worry if you haven’t given it a name yet, or you’re feeling overwhelmed. Just click the “New Post” button, and tell us why you’re here.

Why do this?

  • Because it gives new readers context. What are you about? Why should they read your blog?
  • Because it will help you focus you own ideas about your blog and what you’d like to do with it.

The post can be short or long, a personal intro to your life or a bloggy mission statement, a manifesto for the future or a simple outline of your the types of things you hope to publish.

To help you get started, here are a few questions:

  • Why are you blogging publicly, rather than keeping a personal journal?
  • What topics do you think you’ll write about?
  • Who would you love to connect with via your blog?
  • If you blog successfully throughout the next year, what would you hope to have accomplished?

You’re not locked into any of this; one of the wonderful things about blogs is how they constantly evolve as we learn, grow, and interact with one another — but it’s good to know where and why you started, and articulating your goals may just give you a few other post ideas.

Can’t think how to get started? Just write the first thing that pops into your head. Anne Lamott, author of a book on writing we love, says that you need to give yourself permission to write a “crappy first draft”. Anne makes a great point — just start writing, and worry about editing it later.

When you’re ready to publish, give your post three to five tags that describe your blog’s focus — writing, photography, fiction, parenting, food, cars, movies, sports, whatever. These tags will help others who care about your topics find you in the Reader. Make sure one of the tags is “zerotohero,” so other new bloggers can find you, too.