Inside the World of Kids of Bloggers. Tune in at 11.
I’m not sure which generation comes after Millennials (we’re not done talking about them, are we?). I do know they’re written about. Tons.
We parent bloggers ‘protect’ them. We refer to them as E and T and B, or use middle names as pseudonyms. We post photos that don’t show their actual faces, sometimes.
But their every move?
Chronicled. Drafted. Posted. I present you the Age of Blogged About Kids. They’re under a microscope. Like, one of these microscopes. It’s how we get the stories and post ideas, and, for the parent with the quick smartphone finger, the pics to go along with it.
Michelle from Lipstick and Laundry knows this.
The daunting task
In A Piece of Pie and a Cup of Joe, Michelle wrote about that transition of the kid into teendom and the parent into that stage of trying to understand the un-understandable. It’s like solving a Rubix cube with one hand, in the dark, under water.
After someone poked you in one eye.
I get this, as the dad with growing daughters. You want to soak them up, but be cool about it. Ask a lot, but not too much. Take them as a grown up, but remind them of what they were like at age 4, because that’s how we see them, right?
Shit happens. And when it does – happy, sad, indifferent, or hilarious – Camdyn will turn to me and say, that’s going in the blog, isn’t it?
We blog parents are sort of like paparazzi. Don’t believe me? Go hold up your smartphone in front of your kids. Count the seconds before they cheese. (Milliseconds are hard, aren’t they?)
I bowled at work with Camdyn, Hayden and one of Hayden’s friends on Saturday.
I took it all in, the gutter balls, the pizza destroyed, and the laughs. I whipped out the smartphone to get a shot of Camdyn’s smile. She spun in her chair. I reset. She spun again. You’re always taking pictures, dad! she said.
The pictures unused
She didn’t want one taken.
I got the picture. But I won’t use it. Today, sweet Camdyn … how about if you’re just … my kid? Sound good? My girls are good girls. They’ll let me shoot pics for this blog. Coach Daddy means the stuff here’s about being a daddy.
Kids are crucial to that.
At times, lately, there have been struggles between us. But mostly, in the end, there’s love. And understanding. Even when we don’t really understand. It’s our life. Some is off limits, but for the most part … they live under a microscope.
A loving microscope. But a microscope, nonetheless.