For those of you who know nothing about the blogging community, this may sound like jibberish, but sometimes it surprises me who is considered a "bigger" or "more popular" blogger. (Of course sometimes it just plain doesn't.) Sure, It's a matter of taste -- when it comes to writing, tastes vary wildly; you still can't convince me Dickens isn't anything but boring garbage, but my eighth grade English teacher disagreed with me pretty strongly -- but, still, there are times when I see someone's Twitter followers number or the amount of regular comments they get, and I think, Huh, I must be missing something. And, sometimes I stumble upon someone who is so ridiculously talented and inspiring and honest, I simply can't believe they're not being offered a respectable salary by anyone with a brain to continue putting their thoughts on the Internet day in and day out.
Elizabeth is in the latter group.
From her post today:
"This was the week you gave your first spanking – quick as lightning, without thought, as glass shattered everywhere and your son headed for the thick of it, and then the instant afterwards, his face crumpled and you saw his dream of you change, right there, right before your eyes, and it made you hate yourself so very much. . . . and that night you sleep curled into a C, wrapped around your son, and you listen for his breathing, and you think as hard as you can that you want so much to take it all back, all the yelling and complaining and declaring 'I have had enough from you!' and it’s all you can feel, all you can think, that you take it all back, as hard as you can."
Confession: When I first had Kyle, I had to stop reading a few blogs. I was having a hard go of it, and I would get even sadder when I'd read about other people's perfect, shiny lives with children who never screamed, who slept all the time, who never forced their moms into the closet to cry. Thankfully, life is pretty sweet again, and I see the shine on a daily basis, but I'm still not inspired much by perfection.
I not only kept reading Elizabeth during those early weeks, I inhaled her archives and read certain posts over and over. Not because her life isn't bright -- it's blinding, I'd say -- but because she's brave and fearless and real.
Sometimes I don't get a blogger's appeal. Other times, I want everyone I've ever known to click on a certain link, so they too can be changed by a few simple words.
(And her boy really is that adorable; I've met him myself.)