People often ask why they haven’t really seen pictures of Little C since that first batch taken (thanks to Lori VanBuren) shortly after she was born. The answer is multipart, so I figured I’d address it here rather than on Facebook.
1. I have, quite literally, made a job out of using social media (and teaching others to use it well). One of the most-common complaints is that people post an excessive number of photos of their children. Because my profile is used to brand-build and entertain/inform/engage readers, I’m ultra aware of what people like, and what they don’t.
Although, I will say I am one of the (few, maybe) who really loves seeing cute pictures of kids — and much prefer them to cat or food photos.
I’ve never been a fan of the Kiss Cam, or other JumboTron antics. The interactions are always awkward, and people look up — to check themselves out on the screen — rather than straight ahead, treating all of us to their double chin or Adam’s apple.
One of the many other problems with the Kiss Cam: sometimes it focuses on people who do not want to kiss one another. That’s what happened at a Minnesota Gophers game where the camera focused in on a man and his sister. Rather than panning away when they didn’t smooch, the camera stayed on them.
Finally, the brother took action.
WFLA News Channel 8
I’m obsessed with the cleanliness of bathrooms. This became particularly challenging while pregnant when I used everything from a stump in the woods in Maine to what amounted to a hole in the floor at a gas station in the heart of Brooklyn to a clogged (and rather scary) toilet at a McDonald’s outside of DC to relieve my ever full-feeling bladder. A BJ’s-sized package of Clorox Wipes would not have been enough, in those situations.
But those are the places I can’t control. At home, I can, and I like “our bath” — AKA the master — to be ours. It’s not for guests, or delivery people or anyone else who is in our home.
I want to be able to leave things out (like the squirt bottle post-delivery) and not worry about the fact there may be a glob of toothpaste in the sink because R is oh-so-good about not leaving the water running when brushing his teeth. Plus, a bathroom is a “personal space,” almost more personal than the master bedroom, and I don’t want to share.
Apparently, George Constanza’s former friends felt the same way.
I am, for now, a stay-at-home mom. Sure, technically I’m on maternity leave. But, other than FLY 92, I’m not working for a paycheck, which means I’m (at least temporarily) part of the Pinterest-loving SAHM club.
One thing I am doing during my career hiatus is spending plenty of time on social media (feedings every three hours will do that to ya) and I see so many stories debating the merits of being a stay-at-home parent versus a mom who goes into work each day.
Each, it seems, believes their choice is the toughest one. They lament and complain and get defensive and finish each diatribe with “but it’s so worth it” as if that disclaimer somehow makes the whining acceptable.
I’m going to dare to go the opposite direction and say my current situation is the easier one. Here are 11 reasons why. Continue reading
I don’t use Facebook like most. For me, it’s a professional tool. This means I don’t know-know at least 96 percent of my friends.
It also means I look at the site differently. I skip long, rambling (often mundane) status updates and focus on trends (ex: is everyone posting about the weather, Justin Timberlake coming to the TU Center or a car crash that made headlines for nearly a year?)
I don’t care to see the photo of your sassafras rootbeer, but will notice if, say, one dozen people post about sassafras (then it’s a food story). And I won’t hesitate to have fun with those passive- aggressive, nasty updates people post that are clearly directed at a single person. On those, I comment with “did you mean to send this as a DM rather than post as a status?”
More often than not, they remove the offending post. Continue reading
R and I decided not to find out if we were having a boy or a girl. This approach was a surprise to friends, family, colleagues and readers who know I’m so type A I practically plan a bowel movement.
We’d never discussed which side of the baby gate we fell on that one, but it turned out we both wanted to wait.
And it was awesome — the most sensational surprise of my life. But that’s not the only reason to wait.
Since I don’t care much about the game (it’s just a vehicle for good food :)), I probably won’t be posting to Twitter and Facebook.
How about you?