Corey and I talked SO much on vacation. SO MUCH. I think it’s just because he works like … oh, I don’t know… ALL THE TIME. And, the babes take up EVERY OTHER MINUTE. And, the other sort-of-there minutes are spent staring off into space wondering how we got from “we’re sad and infertile” to “is that poop under my fingernail?” and “can you tell which baby is crying?”
So, on vacation we had all kinds of time to talk while in the car and during naps and in the middle of the night up feeding Lola (hello, partner!) and during our two-day escape to Asheville. It was like the best therapy ever for me. Corey is my sounding board and the most level-headed person I know. At one point I was all in a tizzy over worrying about something and feeling insecure and reading into nothing and everything and then I told him the story and he was all “that’s stupid and what you’re worried about seems sort of ridiculous” and I was all like, “O-em-g, you’re so right” and I instantly felt a release. I just needed to throw it all up and out and then suddenly I felt the freedom to see it for what it was and move forward. You know what I mean? It’s the best.
So, during one of our car trips we were talking about the crazy blog-o-sphere. He doesn’t get it. I mean, the kid doesn’t even read MY blog. He just can’t wrap his mind around why people would want to just write and other people would want to just read. And, I mean there’s a part of me that understands where he’s coming from. It is all a little weird. Some of us blog to stay in touch with friends and family who don’t live nearby and then there are those like me who write to say, “I’m like you. Let’s be friends, okay?” And, I know that’s a bit counter-productive because I feel like in my daily life I have all the friends I need and all the friends I can handle (when it comes to time), but yet there’s this part of me that loves to write online. To write about my life and share photos I’ve taken and pictures of my house and stories about my family and really all for one reason (okay, two reasons): For a bit of a time capsule (but let’s be real, I could write on a Word doc and be done with it) and to simply connect with others.
To connect with you.
So, we were talking about the few blogs I read and how much I love them (I mean, seriously, I quote at least one of them every other day) and how “peon’ish” I feel in comparison to the person writing. Like, I know we’d be the best of friends, but I’d be WAY too embarrassed to ever say hi (except I have once or twice and then nearly died of embarrassment). And, I tell myself that everyone else who reads said blog feels that way and if I wrote them they would just think to themselves, “Yea, you and everyone else. Get in line.”
So, Corey’s listening to my rambling about blogs and then he goes, “Well…
…don’t you think there are people that read your blog that just see “the photographer married to the doctor who have adopted two babies super fast and here’s their intriguing life” and feel the same way about you?”
I nearly spit my trail mix/sour worms/coffee with 2 stevia/whatever I undoubtedly had in my mouth all over the windshield.
“Well, I guess that could be true.”
And, really I know it is for some of you.
And, it makes me kind of hate the blog-o-sphere.
All the time I’ll link to a blog or I’ll be intrigued by a photography article and click along or (hello, the most obvious!) the Facebook app just pops up on my phone and I’ll see a picture or read a post or read a status update and instantly … I mean INSTANTLY .. I am the stupidest, ugliest, “I have no friends” person that ever existed ever in the world of Everdom.
WHAT THE WHAT!?
I love myself and I love my life and I KNOW that my joy and worth does not have to be proven in the pictures I post or words I write on my friends’ walls on Facebook (because HELLO! We all know Facebook has redefined who is considered a “friend” and so many “can’t you see, World Wide Web, we’re best friends” that are on Facebook are cursory and of little substance) for the world to see.
And, more importantly why would I want to work so hard to show a bunch of fluff here and on every other social networking site available that I am beautiful and healthy, with a really clean house and a cool car, a perfect family and look how flawless my photography is and you want to be just like me? C’mon, admit it! You wanna be like me, now go ahead and leave me a comment that I am beautiful and my family perfect and you wish you were me!
Errrrrrrrrrrr! (biggest scratch of the record EVER.)
The truth is, readers, I currently am a bit overweight and I have disgusting fingernails (I’m a biter and a picker), I go at least 1-2 days too long without a shower and my hair is in a pony tail 99.9% of the time (because it’s so frizzy because I’m too lazy to use conditioner) and I get really impatient with my kids and I yell at them (yes, I’ve yelled at Lola) and I am often a really bad and selfish friend and although I cannot function if my house isn’t tidy Charley’s socks are stained (like forever) brown because our hardwoods are so dirty. I am not just saying this: I am just like you (except your floors are probably never that disgusting and you shower more than twice a week). And, yes, I have a beautiful life that I love and I would be lying if I didn’t say that right now, at this point in my life, I feel OVERWHELMINGLY blessed. But, I also have really bad days and I cry and I often feel insecure and second-guess decisions I’ve made and really I just want to say this to any of you who frequent this blog regularly:
I like you and want to be friends. And, more importantly: My life is not nearly as cool as I may have fooled you to believe.
I hope you know this to be true. And, I hope you NEVER hesitate to reach out and say hi if you ever feel compelled to do so. I have NEVER not replied to an email from an individual. Truly, I see it as a cardinal sin. So, if ever you’ve written me and I haven’t replied it’s because I didn’t get it. That’s the bottom line. (Seriously, I’ve gotten emails where I haven’t been able to make out if they were spam and replied! Emails = people and people are important.).
Okay, I’m so glad to have gotten that off my chest. It’s 1 p.m. and I have GOT to brush my teeth and put a little baby powder in this greasy hair of mine. I may see the mailman later.