A Baby, A Body, and a Blog: The Unplanned Sabbatical

Happy New Year, my lovely readers! Did you miss me? Or did you simply assume I’d finally succumbed to the siren song of my own inventory, sipping artisanal ginger beer in a storage closet somewhere? (More on that later.)

It’s been a minute. Or several thousand. I haven’t been ignoring this blog—my virtual confidante—I’ve just been… remodeling the narrative. You see, this space started as a “fun lady look at me!” chronicle of launching a business. All the joys, fears, wins, and face-palm mistakes. It’s true what they say: starting a business is like having a newborn. It’s noisy, demanding, and you develop a disturbing tolerance for functioning on no sleep.

And my baby, Sweet Thyme, was thriving! We were booking events, making magic, and I was beaming with pride. I was the picture of a bootstrap entrepreneur… until my own boots suddenly felt filled with concrete.

In July, I hit a wall. Not a metaphorical one—a real, “call an ambulance, but make sure they bring espresso” kind of wall. Turns out, my body, in a stunning act of betrayal, decided to launch its own rogue start-up: a chronic autoimmune disease. (My internal slogan? “Attack thyself with gusto!”) My body was, quite frankly, doing me dirty.

Cue the unplanned journey. There were hospital stays, a profound new relationship with a daily salad of pills, and the chilling realization that I, the person who planned event timelines down to the second, had procrastinated on health insurance. Let me say this with the gravity of a thousand missed vendor payments: Big mistake. Huge.

I was now the cautionary tale from my entrepreneur class I’d politely ignored. They tell you, “You are your business! Plan for setbacks!” But you never plan for the setback being you. Suddenly, I couldn’t care for my business baby. And no mom—sick or otherwise—wants to ignore her baby.

So, I had to do the hardest thing: let go. I put Sweet Thyme on the back burner to simmer (but, crucially, not sizzle away) and focused on not becoming a medical headline.

And here’s where the plot thickened, and my village arrived with casseroles and spreadsheets.

My daughter, wielding her Commerce degree like a superhero, stepped into the chaos. Turns out, watching Mom hustle is a powerful education. She managed events with the calm precision of a wedding photographer (which she is), proving she’d absorbed more than just my penchant for over-ordering napkins.

My Mom and Step-father, the adorable chaos agents, took on supply shopping. Giving them a list for bar supplies was a delightful lesson in interpretation. The ginger beer incident involved a very earnest bar owner who was also supply shopping and quantities suitable for servicing a small, very thirsty nation. We are set for the zombie apocalypse, provided the zombies appreciate a good old fashioned.

It was scary. There were days I just had to hide under the covers and let my village run the village. Letting go of control is not my brand. But it taught me something profound: a business built with love is also sustained by it.

So, my witty, light-hearted advice to any new entrepreneur, served with a side of hard-won wisdom:

1. Get the health insurance. Do not romanticize “flying without a net.” The net is made of affordable premiums and exists for a reason. You cannot protect your business if you can’t protect yourself.

2. Your village isn’t just for moral support. They might just know how to use QuickBooks better than you.

3. Sometimes, your business baby needs a babysitter.

And that’s okay. A simmering pot still cooks.

I’m back now, getting stronger each week, fueled by pills, purpose, and an absurd surplus of ginger beer. I’m looking at Sweet Thyme with fresh eyes and a deep, giddy gratitude. The journey wasn’t one I’d have chosen, but it showed me the roots of this business run deeper than just me.

Here’s to a new year of health, hilarity, and not having to explain to your parents what “craft cocktail bitters” are ever again.

Onward and upward!

XOXO,

The Girl Who’s (Finally) Back in the (Sweet) Thyme of Things.