That phrase, said by a friend of mine, was preceded by a joke about my daughter thinking the entirety of an empty pitcher of beer had been consumed by only me at our church’s Oktoberfest this past weekend. For the record, I did not consume the entire pitcher of beer by myself. I only had one-third of it…and one-third of another…and another. Um, so technically, yeah. I had a whole pitcher of beer. But not THAT SPECIFIC whole pitcher. Hey, it only makes sense. I had a third each to celebrate my German roots, my Irish roots, and my Catholic roots. All my roots like to drink.
Yet, I digress.
I laughed along with everyone else about the idea of me using the situation for blog fodder, because that’s what I do. Use my life for blog fodder. But the phrase, “and then you’re going to blog about it,” is much more loaded than anyone who heard it probably realized.
I do think long and hard about what ends up on this blog. I have scrapped ideas for all kinds of reasons: it’s something too personal; it might be embarrassing for someone; it’s not my story to tell; I haven’t had time to be anything but reactionary about an issue; or I realize there is no way you guys want to read one more post about the freakin’ Monkees.
Most importantly, I don’t want the people I know, people who share their lives with me, to ever recognize themselves in my corner of the internet and not like what I have to say about them.
There are parenting and life issues that present themselves to me on a daily basis that I know would resonate with many if I wrote about them. I see those issues being written about by others all over the place: what happens when your child is hanging out with a bad influence…how to navigate your relationship with other parents…how to handle your child feeling left out…dealing with the illness of a loved one…being the target of poor sportmanship…sorting out family issues. And sometimes they are written about in such detail that I can’t help but wonder how the people on the other side of those blogs feel. Because you know if they saw it, they would know it was them being written about. What do they think when they see themselves criticized or patronized or demonized for all the world to see? Or when something they confided in a friend is suddenly public knowledge? Awk.ward.
I already walk a fine line with what I share about my children, which becomes less and less as they get older. So there is no way I want my friends and family and people I interact with on a daily basis to constantly have to second guess what they say to me, or how they act around me, or fear the way their children treat mine lest they receive a blog lashing from this scorned mama bear with a laptop. It’s just not going to happen here.
So to all those I know, rest easy. If I think you’re a jackleg, I will do the acceptable thing and just complain about you to my husband and mom and maybe a few close friends…who don’t have blogs. I will save my public outrage for earthquakes, toy fads, annoying kid shows, smug contributors to newspaper columns, Fifty Shades of Grey, ruined Target shopping trips, pointless mommy wars, the CEO of Abercrombie & Fitch, irresponsibly bad journalism, and of course, my nemesis, Chuck E. Cheese.
Nor will I blog about you if you drink an entire pitcher of beer by yourself. Because, you know, people in glass houses…should probably space it out over a couple of pitchers since everyone can see every damn thing you do.