What is it about life’s big events that attracts so many willing spectators? In the sphere of blogging, I find myself drawn to sites where the writers are gearing up for some big event in their life: a wedding, a baby on the way, a budding romance. I will loyally check in to see how progress is coming, whether it be in the form of choosing a bridal gown, getting an ultrasound and choosing the baby’s name, or hearing about some utterly fantastic date between two star-crossed lovers who will be engaged within a matter of months.
But sometimes, once those monumental events have happened, I lose interest in those bloggers. Once they get back from the honeymoon and all they write about is their new dishes or how their spouse snores, I kind of stop caring. Once the baby comes and they take a bazillion pictures of him in his newborn glory and the theme of the blog shifts to discussing the consistency of the baby’s bowel movements, I move on. And once the hopelessly romantic couple gets engaged, then married, then have a baby…again, I tire of them. It’s a cycle of crescendo and then sudden disinterest.
Now, that is not true of all blogs. Some have true staying power and I love visiting them and will continue to do so as their children grow up, as their love blossoms, and after their wedding takes place. The truly gifted writers can share about anything and make me fall in love with their every paragraph.
It’s just got me thinking about how we so easily get bored by the regular pace of life. If we’re not headed towards some lofty or exciting goal, then are our days dull? Sometimes it seems that way. I wonder if that is why so many marriages end in divorce: people realize that after the wedding, life just continues as normal and it’s about doing laundry and falling into the toilet bowl in the middle of the night when your husband forgot to put the seat down. And when you have a child, there is a lot of bum wiping to do, a lot of bone-shattering crying to endure, and a lot of sleep deprivation to fight.
Not that there aren’t any magical moments of matrimonial bliss, or fragments of indescribable joy at the sight of a new baby.
But there will always be the regular old stuff mashed in between those spectacular moments.
I try to find happiness in the stuff.
Because we don’t realize how amazing the stuff is until it is taken away.
9 Comments
SO true Amanda. You said that perfectly.
I agree with Jen. There’s a lot of truths in that. Funny how blogging shows so much about us as people, in a really strange way. But Amanda, I hope that maybe you’ll still read my blog, even once I get married. I promise, I won’t write about my dishes.. Wait, well, maybe just one post..
Steph, didn’t you see how I linked to your blog when I mentioned those with staying power that I intend to continue visiting. OF COURSE I will keep reading your blog. :)
I didn’t see a link to my blog. Does mine lack staying power? Kidding, i know my blog is the one blog you just can’t get enough of. :)
I’m going to buy a fridge, does that count as an event? It has a seperate compartment for soda cans by the way.
I’ll keep reading your blog until you start talking about poop.
Kidding! You’re a great friend, and writer, and I will read as long as you keep writing :)
I couldn’t agree more. Just about anyone can sound exciting when they’re talking about weddings or babies, but it takes a true talent to write about the everyday stuff. The trick is to make your blog interesting by making your LIFE interesting. Not that I’m living for the web, but you know what I mean…
Amanda,
I check your blog everyday now and I couldn’t believe out of all the things you could post about, that you mentioned me. I felt like a celebrity!! Does this mean I’ll be in people magazine next with a picture of my Baby bump? Haha! :)
You’ll probably never come back to my blog after our Babies are born, as our blogs will be pretty similar. I’m sure. :)
E-mail me and tell me what to bring on Friday. choose2behappy@hotmail.com
Why on earth do you read my blog! The only thing I’m waiting for is the second coming.
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