Not sure when I became the kind of blogger that only writes when I have something specific to say. Remember the good old days when I just blogged all the time about every random thing that caught my attention? I have a daily microblog thing going on on Instagram. You know what I have found? It’s the photos. I LOVE photos. They tell stories. So when I write here, I can knock out a post in a few hours, but then I have to take or choose photos… which can literally take me days (I wrote this 2 weeks ago). I have drafts, full articles, that have never been published because I just never got to finding the right photos. So yes, Instagram kind of forces me to select a photo from the day (there is at least one photo every day since Charly was born), and then share a bit about the day that was. Oh, yes… back to the topic! Do you remember how bad it was to be called a tattletale? I do. It causes that internal flinch in a goodytwoshoes like myself. From bullies on the playground to grown ups – teachers, parents, aunts and uncles; being called a tattletale was about the worst thing you could be called.