There’s an ongoing debate over whether or not we, as parents, should be posting about our kids on social media. Me? I do it. My kids are cute as shit, and we have a lot of relatives who are kind of spread out all over the place. When my kids say or do something cute, I like to share it with my friends and family. It’s easier than actually talking to people. But it got me thinking recently.
What if the tables were turned?
What if our kids all had iPhones and were writing Facebook statuses about us or posting our pictures all over their Instagram? What if they were using all the pretty Snapchat filters on themselves and only giving me the funny and silly ones? I’d never know what I look like with perfect skin and a flower crown, that’s what.
Imagine a world where our kids are broadcasting our lives over social media, and we are totally oblivious.
Compilation videos of moms trying to use the first slang word that they’re old enough to be out of touch with. “Aww! Mom said ‘turnt!’ Can you say it again for me, Mom? Look at the camera. One. Two. Three! Turnt, yes! Good job! Oh my god, she’s so cute and stupid. She doesn’t even know.”
#InstaFails of you in that furry vest from Forever 21 you thought you could pull off.
Rants from kids about their moms waiting until the last minute on Christmas Eve to wrap all those damn presents. Mom knew for how long that stuff was due tomorrow?
Big stickers with our ages on them that we have to put on our shirt for a birthday picture. And then an entire Facebook album of just those pictures. Your children might as well name it “Mommy’s March Toward The Light.”
Snapchat stories of moms trying to imitate the dance moves they are watching in a music video.
Pictures of your morning bedhead sent to Ellen, to be shown on national TV with a bunch of other bedhead mamas.
Facebook statuses by your toddler counting down the minutes until Mom falls asleep in front of Dr. Oz after lunch, so she can finally relax with a sippy cup full of juice and catch up on Daniel Tiger.
Food pictures of chicken nuggets and apple slices.
Blog posts of all of Mom’s Pinterest fails. They might import all the examples into an app that turns them into a cute collage. But instead of a cute collage, it looks like someone put the entire inventory of your local Michael’s craft store in the microwave.
Sure, there would be some sweet, sappy moments. My kids might show all their Instagram followers a picture of me when I’m old and gray, sitting in a wheelchair in front of the nursing home they’re about to dump me in. The orderly they ask to stand with me so I don’t make a run for it while they try to decide between the Gingham and Juno filters will go on to steal most of my good drugs every morning. #ByeMomItWasReal
There may even be the occasional bit of gratitude or kindness. Sharing memes with some sentiment about how your mother drives you crazy with the nagging and the yelling and the vegetables, but that her hugs and kisses make it all worth it.
Upon having your eyes opened to what it may be like to be a kid whose mother posts about them on social media, you may think that I am going to wrap this up by telling you to walk a mile in your baby’s Stride Rite shoes and change your wicked ways.
I remember what a sack of crap I was as a teenager. I remember what all my sack of crap friends were like too. The future is bleak, full of shade and sass and stupid clothes. While they’re still cute and sweet and likable as human beings, I’m going to document how much I love my kids and how much joy they bring me. I’m going to enjoy and share the sweet and laughable moments with my friends and family so they can see my kids the way I get to see them.
And then I’m going to back all of it up on two hard drives and some cloud so I can live vicariously through these moments when my kids are pain-in-the-ass teenagers.
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