Undersharing IRL and Oversharing Online

I went out for lunch with some co-workers recently, and one of them asked me what was new with my son.

It took me entirely too long to answer.

I was parsing through his normal daily routine in my mind, trying to filter out things that would be too typical, or too braggy, or too boring… and managed to filter out all the things he was doing, so I had to mentally start again. I think I finally said that he’s still daytime potty trained, and had unfortunately latched onto the shooting and blowing-up parts of Star Wars as his favorite things lately.

In the couple of weeks since then, he’s started reading words on the regular, so that’ll be the next big thing I talk about — because, hell, I’d be remiss as a parent if I didn’t brag about my not-yet-four-year-old son reading probably a couple dozen words, if not more.

Point being, I tend to undershare in person, mostly because I am personally not a fan of being a captive audience myself. Granted, my co-worker did ask — I wasn’t volunteering out of nowhere — but I still didn’t want to go on and on about the minutiae of parenting a four-year-old. She’s been there; she’s done that. She just wanted to let me have a turn to share, and I appreciate that — but, in person, I’m not sure what to share.

Online is a different story. It’s generally understood that — on Facebook, at least, and sometimes Twitter — people are going to post pictures of their kids and talk about their latest recital or t-ball game or teething or first steps or whatever. If you as their “friend” choose to read it, awesome. If not, you can scroll past and shake your head (or block them from your feed) and choose to end the interaction with them being none the wiser.

I blog about my kid sometimes. I tweet when he says something funny. I post cute pictures to Instagram. I even throw my Facebook friends the occasional bone.

He’s not a “normal” kid. He’s tall for his age, and academically beyond his peers — OK, he’s smart. But everyone thinks their kid is smart, right? Everyone’s kids say cute things.

Someday, when he’s older and understands the Internet as a place where people interact (instead of just a place where toys and other packages come from), I’ll ask him before I post about him, much like I give my husband a measure of privacy by not posting much about him. I may have to take parts of my journal offline at that point, because I’d really hate to miss recording something just because it’s not for public consumption.

At any rate, where I’m going with this is that my son is a pretty typical kid right now, doing typical cute kid things, which I try to share in moderation as appropriate. I just can’t seem to dredge up the more interesting typical things in person. I suppose I should have a mental list going, kind of like an old-school photo wallet that I can unfold and show off on command.

Most parents don’t have this problem, do they?

Tired and Cranky

I’m not sure why I’m even bothering to wiggle my fingers and record my thoughts on this particular topic. It’s most definitely a case of I Know What To Do But I Don’t Do It. It’s also a bit of The Chicken Or The Egg, in that I’m not sure which thing is the cause and which is the effect, but they all feed off one another and get worse.

The problem: I’m tired and cranky.

Why am I tired? Because I stayed up too late last night. I’m cranky because I snoozed my alarm this morning when I knew I should just get up, and that made me late to work. My almost-four-year-old son also not wanting to get up didn’t help the cause, either.

Why did I stay up too late last night? Because Connor wouldn’t go to sleep and kept getting up, and I wanted to get a time-sensitive blog post done (and didn’t — only the photos, not the text), on top of also wanting some wind-down time in bed before lights out. That wind-down time, as with my wake-up time, always suffers from my tired-brain lack of good judgement, so I stay up even later when I need the sleep the most.

Why wouldn’t Connor stay in bed? Because he’s almost four. And because I kept going upstairs to placate him. According to my chat log with Aaron last night over Words With Friends (because that’s how we communicate when one of us is at home and the other at work), here’s how things went down:

8:15pm – Tucked Connor in.
8:20pm – Connor had to go potty.
8:25pm – Connor asked what I was microwaving.
8:30pm – Connor was “having trouble going to sleep.”
8:45pm – Connor wanted pajama shorts instead of long pants.
9:00pm – Connor turned on his light and wanted a hug.

At that point, I totally lost my shit on him and yelled really loud and made him cry. Which made me feel like Parent of the Year, of course. Once I got him in bed that time, after some hugs and a little talk, I told him that I was going back to “the Grown-Up Room” (aka the home office, where we keep our tower computers and our media), so if he called me again, I wouldn’t hear him.

He stayed in bed that time. Well, as far as I know. I really was in the office where I couldn’t hear him unless he yelled or cried, since I don’t plug in the baby monitor at night.

Oh, and I should point out that I also eat when I’m tired and frustrated, which isn’t helping my goal of losing 15 pounds by Thanksgiving of this year.

So, what would have been some better options, taking into account that tired-brain decisions are always bad ones, and better avoided altogether?

Option 1: Tough love. Put Connor down, allow him a single additional Mommy visit, and inform him that I will be busy and unable to hear him call for me after that (unless it’s an emergency, of course).

Option 2: Resign myself to not getting any “me” time. I could should have just gone upstairs at 9:30pm and had some time to wind down with any number of things: meditation, yoga, iPhone, book. I could easily have been in bed by 10pm (which is really when I *should* be in bed)

Option 3: Start the bedtime routine earlier and/or tighten things up. Less play time in the bath. One book instead of two. Starting the battle of wills earlier (and ending it earlier by refusing to entertain it further).

Option 4: All of the above.

I have a battle plan and a schedule for tonight. I hope tonight is better.