I don’t write much about Emory for probably pretty obvious reasons. He’s no longer a baby—he’s not even a toddler anymore—he’s a little boy. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to write about him. There are so many stories I want to share daily; stories I have actually written but never push live. I just can’t bring myself to do it for some reason. I picture him reading it one day and asking, “Mom, why did you write that on the Internet?” And then my heart breaks in this imaginary scenario and so I just save it and close the window.
How does one overcome this and keep blogging? This is something I ask myself a lot lately. This question is precisely why I so rarely update with regard to my son. The thing is, my son is my job now, so feeling unable to write about him means not having much to write about at all. This is why you read about lollipops or a feline who will never have to deal with the cruelness of middle school. This is why I post pictures of baby squirrels and snow days. This is why so many days I don’t update at all.
What’s safe?
There’s a story about poop and a Saturday morning that I would love to share with the Internet, a story that both Toby Joe and I find truly hilarious, a story you would find hilarious as well. But once it’s out there, in writing, online, it’s out there. There’s suddenly proof of it. Will future classmates one day come to tease Emory for a poop story that his mom wrote about? Will he care or will he be the class clown and laugh along with them. Not knowing the answer to this holds me back a great deal.
And I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry because I wanted to always share it all. That’s why I started this blog, that’s why I’ve kept it going for (OH MY GOD) 9 years. And I know what I’m writing today isn’t anything new, but I had to write something. Because I can’t tell you about the poop and last Saturday morning and the big laugh we had.
And so that’s been my big question lately: where do I go from here? What does it mean that I can no longer share my life with you because my life is no longer just my own?
Oy. I’m not sure? Is that an acceptable answer?
Honestly, I think just keep going as you are. I completely understand about putting stuff out there about your son. The Internet is forever, baby! But I like posts about Murray and Etsy and baby squirrels and snow. I know you’re a mom and that takes up a ton of your life, but there’s other stuff in there too.
I think the important thing to remember is that people read your blog because they like your spin on things. Even everyday things. Even non-poop things. Even non-Emory things. Let us know when you find your way, friend.
Roo: That reminds me! I have a SHITLOAD of Etsy stuff I need to post. I went on a small shopping spree last month. OMG, got so much amazing stuff. Will put that together this weekend. With pictures!
Thanks for the comment.
I have struggled so much with how to write about life with kids & worrying about sharing too much that I’ve completely stopped writing. I find my life so intertwined with my children’s that I no longer know where I end & where they begin. I second the previous commenter in that I read you for your voice, whatever you choose to post will be enough.
Email me the poop story!!!
Has it ever occurred to you to have a password-protected blog? You can always merge it into a more public website – a great example is a blog friend, Ariel Meadow Stallings, who blogged for YEARS and has a huge online presence with her various projects (Offbeat Bride, Offbeat Mama), but now she’s blogging under password protection and is SO happy she’s doing so.
It has, Krissa, but this is right along the same lines as to why I have never thrown a party: I’m pretty sure no one would show up. :]
hahaha
That baby boy is precious. I’ve laughed myself with the fun he has with his adorable pet. What if there are things you can write about him, but not essencially something funny, just a mom point of view? Things he does that you know you’ll keep to yourself forever. Things you’ll always remember. I just mean things that you’re proud of feeling and showing. As if you had a friend for coffee and is updating her about in how many levels has your little one changed your life and ways of thinking. Funny stories are great stories!… but they’re not all.
Also, are you sure there isn’t any event on your life you’d like to share besides him? Say as you take a run in the morning, grab a cup of coffee somewhere, the great city you live in! There are so many things people would love to know, and I include myself in this one. Living in Brooklyn, NY, must mean you have at least something to talk about, even if it’s just about other moms you met at the park. Anything at all, as long as it is written with honesty and sincerity, is definitely worth reading. That’s why I’m always here, I love your writing and think you have so much to say. ;-)
Think about that!
You are SO RIGHT, bambooska. Brooklyn and NYC has a great deal of awesome. I’m running in my first ever race on
SaturdaySUNDAY in Central Park. I’ll start there. I’ll write it up come next week.Thank you for reminding me that this city alone is fodder for a million years worth of stories.
All I can say is that I love what you write, and I think you’ve made the right choice to respect his dignity and privacy. Kudos to you for doing so. You’ll keep writing if you want to. :-)
Personally, I don’t worry about it. My only rules are not to write anything hurtful about anyone. But then again, I come from a family where personal information isn’t really an issue. So I am very comfortable being more than forthcoming. I just can’t imagine my son being sensitive about anything I wrote one day far in the future and if he was, I would certainty remove it.
Eugh. You’re making me think far too much on a Sunday morning.
I don’t know how anyone answers that question. I’m still at the point where no one I know (in real life) reads my blog. I find that reassuring even though I don’t post anything that I wouldn’t say to anyone in the real world. (I have a problem with my bluntness/over-sharing. *sigh*)
I don’t know what my daughter would think about the over-sharing. I’m going to have to ask this exact same question in the not-so-distant future. Scary thought.
Kudos for writing about squirrels and lollipops, though. It may not be poop stories, but it’s a great read regardless.
(And I look forward to marathon stories… Because marathons are only for crazy folk!)
I don’t know the answer. For everyone it’s different, right?
I want to say that I figure if we are at a coffee shop/bar and you’d tell me the story about Em, then it’s fair game for the blog. But that’s a little simplistic.
My family has been telling embarrassing stories about the kids (and showing the pictures!) to all newcomers for years, so I’m accustomed to a little harmless humiliation. :-)
I’m confused, Alyce. Do you mean that if I told you a story about Emory at a bar in person you’d feel it’d be OK to blog about that? I need some clarification before I decide how I feel about that statement.
This is a little bit different from a parent telling someone who was likely invited over a story over dinner or snacks or something. This is relatively permanent. I keep imagining some kid printing out a story from here passing it around for a good laugh. Kids can be very cruel. That’s not something I would have wanted at a young age and in grade school. And who knows: he might be OK with it, but I don’t know what type of kid he’s going to be. I would NOT have been ok with it. I hated being teased and I did get teased a great deal about the most absurd things.
Anyway… just thinking. I’m not suggesting that others NOT write about their kids. I rather like reading stories like that—truly. I enjoy childhood and I love hearing about the strange and amazing things that kids say and do. But I’m not sure I’m ok with it when it comes to my own solely because I remember all the times kids took a bit of information about me as a child and just tore me apart.
I can’t protect him from everything, but I can protect him from what I divulge.