Letting Myself and Other People Like Stuff
There's a woman I went to high school with, but wasn't friends with, whose social media I check regularly. E has never met this person, but knows who she is because I've shown him (or described to him) photos that she's posted over the years. I used to talk about her like this: "hey, remember that woman I went to high school with who dresses up her dogs? Look what she did to them this time." But at this point, E knows her by name. Earlier today, I called him over to, "look at photos of [name's] toddler."
Remember, this is not someone I'm friends with, nor have I ever been friends with her, nor do I want to be friends with her! I just like looking at her photos.
At first, when I looked at her photos, I made fun of them. She had two small, fluffy, white dogs with human names and she dressed them up in bunny ears for Easter and Patriots jerseys for the Superbowl and she called them her babies. When she got engaged, one of the dogs was wearing a sign that said, "will you marry my daddy?" It was... a lot.
And then she had a human baby. And her photographic focus shifted. In addition to monthly photo shoots documenting the baby's growth, which it seems most first-time parents do to some extent these days, every holiday was an excuse for a new outfit (or two or three!) and a photo shoot in front of increasingly elaborate backdrops. She has three kids now and, since the birth of her youngest in January, there have been Valentine's Day photos, St. Patrick's Day photos, and no fewer than three different Easter photo shoots. The most elaborate of these included a hand-painted sign and crocheted carrot props.
A month or so ago, I commented to E about how much time and money must go into buying St. Patrick's Day outfits that your kids are only going to wear once. I was being judgmental and E very calmly pointed out that this woman must enjoy spending her time and money that way. Presumably, she celebrates every holiday by dressing up and photographing her kids because that's fun for her.
I could dig my heels in and make the argument that celebrating every holiday this way likely generates a lot of waste and buying new clothes so often isn't very sustainable. Or, I can just be happy for this woman and her hobby. I've found that I feel a lot better looking at her photos when I'm not judging her for taking them or thinking of her as 'basic' or 'extra.' It feels nice to just acknowledge that she likes taking silly photos of her children and I like seeing the ones she shares online.