The other night, I babysat for Ralphie’s girls. I’d made dinner but it wasn’t quite finished cooking when I left, so I took half of it and finished cooking it at Ralphie’s house, while Bart ate his half at home.
Later, when we were discussing dinner, we both commented that it was a fine meal, but nothing great. In fact, we noted that when we’d first gotten married, we probably would have loved it and put it straight into our (very small) rotation of meals. Now, five years later, it tasted strong and obvious to me – no subtlety or depth to it at all. I sincerely doubt I’ll ever make it again.
Sometimes change is so gradual, you don’t even notice it happening.
I’ve been blogging for over four years now and it is rather staggering, sometimes to reflect on how many permutations my life has gone through in that time.
I started it just as I was finishing up a nanny gig, then there was a year or so of full-time work, then graduate school, then an elementary school librarian, now a stay-at-home mom.
There was Texas and then Boston and then Texas again. There was just Bart and me, then pregnancy, now Bart, me, and Ella.
There is reading, there is cooking, there is traveling. Sometimes there is drama (hello Santa Claus post!), sometimes the echos in the comment section are deafening.
There are episodes of my life, people I know, that are never mentioned or referred to here at all. Like any blog, this one reflects only some aspects of my life.
My life has changed a lot in five years. It makes me feel better about the fact that sometimes I feel a little lost here, like I don’t know quite what I want to say anymore.
Sigh, blog existentialism. I hear you.
just please don't tell me if it was pirate porridge. I can only take so much rejection.
lacie tidwell says
We can only see 10% of icebergs- 90% of icebergs mass is underwater- I like to think of myself like that- I MAYBE reveal 10% of myself- and mostly it's on my kid- a 'friendly' topic;) I really don't share a lot- so I get it- I keep my blog as more of a journal type setting for me…
wonderful thoughts. Gradual change is an amazing thing. Like the accumulation of stretch marks and varicose veins – oh wait, those came on rather quickly for me.
For some unknown reason, I am extraordinarily curious about what the so-so recipe was.
I'm pretty interested in the so-so recipe as well. 🙂 As far as your blog, I haven't been a reader as long as some, but I've really enjoyed being a reader through some of your life's happenings.
I love to read about everything you write–books, your family and sweet babe, career, places you live or have lived, etc. Sometimes I feel like I'm waffling around on my own blog, but I guess that's what makes it my own. Yours is wonderful–just like you!
Mad Hadder says
I read you on the "bloggers block". I seem to have lost my readers. But I also think writing a blog is a good exercise in seeing your life through a reporter's lense. And then again, it's all in the telling…
Peaceful Reader says
It is amazing how much we share on our blogs but yet our lives encompass so much more.
I am curious about the recipe as well.
The more we perfect our favorite recipes, the worse and worse most restaurant food tastes to us. It's getting depressing. We went out for breakfast the other day and both agreed that we could do better. What a sad day when a good diner breakfast isn't that good anymore.
I love this post. It says exactly something I feel from time to time (sad, as I have been a writing for only a fraction of the time you have). Selfishly, I do hope you keep writing. I love your insights and your calm and your cheer. And, of course, your thoughts on books.