Sunday, March 9, 2008

To blog or not to blog?

Every few years, someone finds me via a search term in Google that is unprintable. unspeakable, even. And I freak out. I stop blogging for weeks, months. I start thinking that this whole blogging thing is:
a) extremely narcissistic
b) potentially dangerous
c) an invasion of my children's privacy. They, after all, have not asked me to spew details of our life out on the internet for all to read.

C) is the one that gets me. I can deal with being narcissistic. (Life's too short not to think you are an interesting person.) And I'm not *really* worried about security. I'm fully aware that the biggest dangers to our life are sitting in our garage right now. Those 2000 pounds of metal that barrel down the highway at 65 mph are probably the most dangerous inventions, ever.

I don't use the kids' names. I don't put up pictures of them. But someday - will they hate me for telling stories like this? Sigh. I suppose I have to give them fodder for therapy somehow. I wonder - in 2020, will there be a slew of 20-somethings meeting with professionals to discuss the irrecoverable harm placed upon them by their "mommy bloggers?"

I'm thinking about continuing with a password. But is that really any different? Or do I just say "the hell with it - they'll survive much worse than this."

Part of me just wants to continue to write and keep it a secret. (The kids don't really know about this web page. yet.) Then, upon the birth of my first grandchild, to unveil the link. Then they'll know that I 'get' it - the trials/tribulations/frustrations/compromises of life that no one really understands until they have kids of their own. They'll say, "Ha! Mom wasn't really an angry uptight 'rhymes with witch' after all! She just loved us more than anything in the world."

A girl can dream....

5 comments:

Bridgett said...

This past week, I wound up with an old ex-friend angry at me because of my blog. It made me want to run and hide at a blogging site where I could totally limit who saw me via password protection.

I got over it. She's not dangerous, just angry. And I tried to meet her halfway. But it made me pause for a moment or two. I use my kids' names. It would take very little to figure out where I live. But you know...I just can't be that worried. Maybe I'm stupid. Maybe it's time to give them code names or something. I don't know.

I figure, as long as I eliminate them from the discussion by name by the time they're 10 or so, they'll like this later. And I need them to know that I wasn't just a bon bon eating sahm. I did things, too...

Aliki2006 said...

Thanks for stopping by my blog last week...

I wrestle with this, too. But really--even though blogs do get hits from wayward searches, think about how many, many blogs are out there. I think it's wise to take precautions, and to establish a set of personal blogging rules--your blogging creed, so to speak. Then if you have those rules, and take care not to violate them, you'll probably feel better. There was a huge discussion about all this not long ago on Julie Pippert's site (in my blogroll) about what rules individual bloggers set for themselves.

Still...it's a strange medium. It's hard for me to imagine my own blog going on and on, but it is getting trickier now that my son is getting older.

OhTheJoys said...

I really worry about this too.

Vicki aka Diva Mom said...

But your blog is one of my favorites! If you don't write about the kids specifically then at least continue to blog current events & politics.

Unknown said...

that's kind of why i refer to mine as the Girl, the Boy, and the Husband--totally generic. and my name is generic too. but I've also just started a second, completely anonymous blog, just for venting (even posted an invitation there for others to join in!). several friends prefer things to be completely limited, and has a friends-only LiveJournal blog, so I've started posting completely personal crap there ...

not that I have time for one blog this week, much less 3.

but the bigger point dmv said .... we miss you when you're awol.