Four of you lovely bloggy peeps have e-mailed me the link to last week’s Globe and Mail article on mommyblogging. Thanks for thinking of me! I haven’t been into my feed reader recently, but I’m sure the article has been discussed ad infinitum throughout the momosphere. For those of you who missed it, the article asks whether we have the right to blog our children’s stories, and whether it is “exploitation” to tell their stories for our own edification or, in some cases, fiduciary gain. While I think it’s a good question, and common sense to be aware that what you put out on the Internet stays on the Internet forever, I think the Globe was fairly exploitative in framing the question of privacy against a backdrop of “mommybloggers are earning $40K a month to blog about their children’s potty training.” I wish!
I’ve said before that when I started the blog one of my primary intentions was for it to be a sort of a digital scrapbook, mostly because I didn’t have the time or patience for the fancy scissors and pretty paper. It’s a version of the story of me, of my thoughts and observations and opinions, and of my life. In my life, there is a cast of supporting characters that include Beloved, the boys, my folks, my friends, my relatives, my neighbours, the cashier at the drug store, the guy who sold us our van, the mailman, and a chorus of other characters. Inasmuch as their paths intersect with mine, I feel I have the right to tell their stories. In the case of the boys, at this point their stories are so deeply intertwined with mine that they are practically the same story. But that’s beginning to change.
As they are growing up, I can see where they are beginning to own their own stories. Her Bad Mother took a lot of flack in the comments on the Globe and Mail site over her quote about her daughter being “my property, my work of art.” I’ll admit that while I cringed when I read this, I remember feeling the same way when Tristan was a baby. I think this particular feeling is something all new parents have, and you grow out of it as your children grow, just about the time you begin to realize how very little control or contribution you have over their personalities — that they really are their very own person and not just an extension of you.
I think the key here, as it often is, is moderation and discretion. There are bloggers out there who could use an editor, but that’s not restricted to the niche of parent bloggers. I don’t see a problem telling you stories and anecdotes from our daily life, as long as I do it with respect and consideration of the boys’ future selves. From the start, I shared the link with friends and family, and have been fairly liberal with our identities, both of which have kept me honest and made me conscious of what I was putting out onto the Internet. I have loosely followed the old rule of thumb from my day job in communications: don’t put it out there unless you’d be comfortable seeing it on the cover of the Globe and Mail. (Heck, those of you who know me well know I’m *aspiring* for the cover of the Globe and Mail!) In other words, I’d never tell a story on the blog that I wouldn’t tell to someone face-to-face. And the very few times I’ve tried to use blog for nefarious purposes, it has come back to bite me in the ass rather spectacularly. Lesson learned.
Sometimes I worry, though. So many people have asked me how I can be so open on the blog that I wonder if maybe I am a little too honest and open. And I’m more liberal with my own stories than I am with the rest of the family’s. I mean, I have no problem telling the Interwebs that I wet the bed, but I don’t see the need to ever tell you that one of the boys has done it. And though I dearly wanted to, I did not in fact publish the photo I snapped of Tristan “nursing” Simon on the rocking chair in my room. Just to be sure, every now and then I’ll google the boys’ full names to see if the blog comes up in the search results. It doesn’t. If it ever does, I’ll probably go back and see if any of the old stories need to be pruned, but on reflection I can’t think of anything in particular that I’d take down.
This is not a new issue; remember the blogstorm from about a year and a half ago, when the question of ads on blogs first came up? If I remember correctly, it was right around then that Jen from MUBAR made the statement that was picked up in the article, about how her children’s stories are now their own and she doesn’t feel comfortable blogging them. I have a lot of respect for Jen, and have been considering what ‘ownership’ I have over the boys’ stories ever since. It was also right around then that Marla said she wouldn’t put ads on her blog because she wasn’t comfortable “selling” her daughter’s story, nor the eyeballs of the readers who perused her blog. Both excellent arguments and perspectives that I’ve been conscious of in my blogging ever since.
What do you think? Are we exploiting our kids, or creating a record of those moments that might otherwise be lost to the speeding blur that is their childhood? Has or will your blogging style change as your kids grow up? Would you want your teenager to read your blog, now or in fifteen years? Will we be using our meagre blog profits, as some have observed in the comments section of the Globe article, to fund family therapy years from now?
