& the lull

I’ve been doing this blog thing a little while*. It started when my wife was pregnant, and I intended to carry it through after Squatch was born and turn it from a pregnancy blog into a parenting blog. Seems only natural, right?

*For once, this isn’t my attempt to under- or over-state things to humorous effect. I really haven’t been doing this that long.

Strangely enough, this is simultaneously the reason I’m here in the Bloggy-verse and the reason I’m not. Also, how bout them Giants?

One thing that escaped me as I prepared to carry out this plan was something that seems to afflict many a pregnancy-to-parenting blog. It’s a condition that apparently grows in the womb alongside the fetus and comes screaming out into the world alongside it. It’s a condition that my blog certainly wasn’t immune to.

It’s the dreaded LULL.

*CAUTION: Bullshit postulating ahead!*

It seems to me there are a couple main causes of THE LULL. The first is rather obvious. Babies come with a lot of responsibility—feeding and diapers and crying and cleaning and feeding and diapers and laundry and feeding and diapers and diapers and more feeding and diapers. The amount of time leftover for other things gets relegated to sleep pretty quickly. Then eating. Then adult interaction. Blogging falls way down that list.

Priorities shift for parents, so it’s pretty easy to see how THE LULL can sneak up on a brand new daddy blogger. There’s a slightly less obvious contributor to THE LULL, though, one you may not agree with, but it’s my blog anyway, so you’ll just have to put up with my stupid theories. Or leave me a comment. Whatever.

See, babies in their first few months are pretty boring. Don’t get me wrong—I think my baby is awesome. And the other babies of the other parenting bloggers are (slightly less) awesome. Coolest things ever. But boring. They don’t do much besides the aforementioned eating, pooping, and sleeping. They don’t move around on their own so they don’t get into anything interesting. They don’t talk so they don’t say anything funny. They don’t do much of anything. For example, the video I shot this morning almost exclusively for the purpose of writing about this:

See? That’s about where he’s at. He can grab at his rattly bird. He can roll over onto his side. His mom and I are thrilled and amazed at everything he does. We can watch him do this all day*. But for you, the common blog reader, that was 47 seconds you’ll never get back**. I can’t blame you for not wanting to see videos of my (exceptionally cute) kid pawing at a rattle.

*Let’s be honest—we can watch this for about 15 minutes. Then we’re either asleep next to him or taking stupid pictures and videos to post on Facebook.
**If you even made it that far.

Hence, THE LULL. New parents don’t have much unique to say about their kid that other parents haven’t already seen. These little balls of poop and spit-up have yet to establish a real personality, and unless you’re going through something rare (like a genetic condition or raising the kid on your own or something like that), or you’re just naturally hilarious and interesting (like Emily at The Waiting), or you’ve got other kids already (like Dork Dad), then chances are you’ll fall victim to THE LULL.

It’s okay. Happens to the best of us. And me.


9 thoughts on “& the lull

  1. The fun comes in watching you discover all the things that I learned many years ago. Eventually the student will become the master. Until then I will continue to read your blog and say to myself, “Pfffft! Hahahaha! Noob!”


  2. Here’s the thing–for those of us who have babies that are now 6’5″ and who have other babies who are much shorter but, married and stuff (no names mentioned Bud or Anne) and who are yearning for the word Grandma, these blogs make us happy.

    So, yes, I watched him grab for the birdy thing and I coo’d. You made me happy, you and Felix.

    Thank you for that.

    • I’ll try to keep posting the boring cute stuff. I’m pretty sure I’ll want to see it in a couple years, too. Those days where he won’t stop whining or shouting or hitting—it’ll be nice to remember when he could barely move.

  3. A-MEN. It is so boring, but then it just isn’t. I speak from experience since my child is a whopping two or three months older than yours. Enjoy the batting-at-the-bird time because in about five minutes he’s going to be rolling and pulling up and scooting around in his walker and babbling. Oh, the babbling! And believe it or not, as awesome as his newfound skills are, you’ll look back fondly on the lull.

    • No kidding. He’s about to become a rolling machine any day now. We were putting off buying those baby gates, hoping it could wait till Christmas, but I think he’ll be mobile long before that. Life will not be the same.

  4. Pingback: & a mediocre host | & squatch makes three

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s