The Power of the Written Word

I wasn't sure whether to post this here, mostly because it was another stupid social media problem that I most likely overreacted to...but even after crafting a response and thinking about it for a couple days, I'm still having it roll around in my brain a bit more than I'd like, so I think I just want to get it out here and hope that's enough to move on.

The other day, an old friend of mine posted something on Facebook asking parents to not complain about their kids in their statuses.  She loves seeing pictures, but the complaints should stay private--not only because she has preconceived notions about what your kid is like based on that, but also because one day your kid could see it and that could be devastating to them. 

Because I had posted my second post about Jacob's summer reading earlier that day (and she responded--she's in education and chimed in on my last one, too), I felt compelled to respond since it was entirely possible that my post was part of her motivation.  I explained that sometimes parenthood is isolating, and for those of us who don't have a good support system of friends to complain to privately, sometimes Facebook is the easiest place to go for support or advice.  Yes, we should watch what we post, but if someone posts something like that anyway, it probably means they're struggling and are looking to fellow parents for validation or help.  Maybe it's not the best way to go about it, but sometimes you just do what you can to get through it.

I should note here that she is not a parent.  She does, however, work with kids so it's not like she's out of touch with how they behave.  But I still think being a parent is a completely different dynamic.

Anyway, she private messaged me the next day and said that I did not prompt her post, but "since you mentioned it", she went on to talk about how what I do post has given her a certain impression of my kids and how she thinks what I have written will be very hurtful to Jacob if he ever reads it in the future.  She talked about how overhearing an argument between her parents at 18 deeply impacted her because her mom essentially confirmed she was a letdown--which she related back to her struggles with ADHD, which I honestly never knew she had despite being very good friends in high school.  She said that she sees the impact of talk like that in the kids at school, and encouraged me to try to phrase posts more positively so Jacob doesn't have the same rude awakening as an adult that she did.  The thing is, she's not entirely off-base.  I think she was coming from a very sincere place with genuine concerns.  I get it.  I do.  I should be more thoughtful, and I actually think I have been over the past year or two.  I even looked back through nearly a year of posts to see if I was off-base.  The one summer reading post was really the most negative.  The one on Sunday I actually thought was pretty positive--just talking about how critical thinking has seemingly not been a big part of his education thus far (and he's definitely a STEM kid all the way), so we're working through the writing together.  Any others that were borderline really seemed--to me--to be attempts at finding humor in the challenge that is parenting, generally via memes that made me smirk.  So all I can figure is that much of what she was thinking about dates back years, to a time where life with Jacob was really, really hard and I probably couldn't help but vent about it.

I think what bugged me the most was her take on my kids if it was based entirely on Facebook: "I would be led to believe that Jacob is a total pain in the ass with no self-control (and you don’t particularly like him) and that Carter is an angel child whom you wish Jacob was more like."  She even clarified that she knows that's probably not the case, but that's what she would assume.  The thing is, she's not entirely off-base here either.  Jacob is a really, really difficult kid and his impulsiveness is definitely one of our biggest struggles.  Obviously I love him with every fiber of my being, but admittedly, there are moments I don't so much enjoy being around him.  Like when I've told him for the millionth time that he needs to do his summer reading (and do it well because his first impression at school depends on it), and that it is not going away so he needs to just push through and do it.  It gets old, people.  Or like the day I got her message (and it left me pretty shaken up), the first thing he does as we leave camp is complain about the fact that when camp was going to the movies the next day, he would have to get the concession stand "snack pack" like everyone else instead of picking his snack of choice.  Most of the time he complains because he can't eat what everyone else is eating, and the one time he's okay to do that, he complains and wants more.  Much of the time it feels like we can't win with him, and it's hard.  I don't love him any less, but sometimes the frustration is overwhelming.  And as for Carter, no, he's not an angel, but he has been an easier child to raise, no doubt--and who doesn't want that?  And, from a social media perspective, he still smiles more for the camera, so he does end up on my feed more than his brother.  

Even though she said she doesn't necessarily believe those things, it's half-blind judgments like that that make the internet the dumpster fire it is.  It's one thing to have a snap judgment--say, as you watch a tantrumming kid in Target--but it's another to really think that represents anything more than that moment.  If there's anything that parenthood has taught me, it's that we all have bad moments--angry, no-sleep, sick kid, constant-whine-induced moments of weakness--that people would be mortified to see.  But they're just that, moments.  They do not reflect entirely who we are or what our lives are like.  You just never know what someone else is going through.  Maybe the kid has a medical condition.  Maybe the mom hasn't had a break in months.  You just don't know.  In the example of that Target store tantrum, the proper response really is specific to your kid, but people will always see a fault in it.  For some kids, it's best to leave your cart and haul them right out of the store.  For others, it's better to ignore them completely and keep shopping like nothing's happening.  Only you know your kid--or know that you absolutely need what you came for and can't leave until to get it, no matter what happens.  People will judge away regardless (and honestly, if you still give your kid a reward after that, I probably will judge you a little--but only a little, because maybe one tantrum is an improvement over last time!), but no one except you knows what's best in your situation.  And until you've been there, it will always be easy to judge and say that a parent is doing something wrong.

When I responded to her, I tried to explain that Jacob's challenges have been central to our lives for many years.  It has touched every part of our family and changed my life completely.  If I didn't share even a bit of that online, I'd either be superhuman or feel like a fraud.  Mind you, I'm a social media sharer.  Some people aren't and would be mortified to offer up even one detail about their lives.  But for whatever reason, I'm a sharer and I feel better getting that stuff out into the world--for better or for worse.  I'm not going to post only the good stuff because that's not really representative of us.  Too many people judge their own lives so harshly because of the perfection they see online, and I don't want to contribute to that if I can help it.  What we go through with Jacob is part of my reality, so there are going to be moments where it comes out.  It may not be the best way to deal with it, but sometimes I don't know how else to process it.  We already do therapy, but that only goes so far.  My friend suggested getting in closed Facebook groups or something like that, but the thing is, despite our very real struggles, most groups we'd "qualify" for are probably full of more severe issues than ours, and I don't think we'd fit in there either.  We don't have an IEP, we don't have a kid destroying the house, and by all accounts at school he's a pretty normal kid these days.  We're in an odd in-between place--just normal enough, but not quite.

Unfortunately, no matter how much I might change my ways now, a lot of the damage has already been done.  Presumably a lot of what she based her opinions on dates far back, to a time before we all had a greater understanding of the permanence of the internet and what the long-term ramifications can be.  Maybe I would have been more conscious of it back then had I known what I know now.  But then again, do I really care what someone who doesn't know me or my kids in real life thinks?  Not really.  People who know us in person know what we've been through and know what kind of parent I am.  Their opinions matter far more, and even if they are negative, in-person interactions are probably the only thing that will change their mind.  But I probably can't change the opinion of an online friend, because they'll only see what they want to see in those momentarily glimpses into our lives.  I can't really help that and I'm not going to re-wire my life for someone who has little-to-no consequence in our daily lives. I can be more thoughtful, yes, but I still need to live my life and not make myself crazy worrying about the opinions of others.

Of course, then there's this blog.  I come here and spill everything.  But not too many people are reading this one, so maybe it's different.  I consider it a family history at this point and I will not delete it.  Not now, anyway.  This is where I process things, and I'm not going to gloss over the hard stuff.  I don't share everything, but I do share most. 

So what about Jacob?  Jacob knows this blog exists, and he even knows where to find it.  I think he's even read a bit here and there.  After my friend's message on Monday, we chatted in the car on the way home.  I asked him if, despite all the fights we have, he knows how much we love him.  He said yes, and in true kid fashion he listed off a bunch of stuff (basketball camp, sneakers, private school) as proof.  Then I asked him if it bothers him that I sometimes talk about him and our struggles on Facebook, when I'm frustrated or angry.  He said no, basically because he knows we love him and he knows that I was just upset in that moment.  I explained why I was asking those things, and truth be told, I'm not sure he fully grasps the issue, but essentially he was unconcerned.  I honestly think he's well aware of our situation, knows we're frustrated, but also knows that none of it changes how we feel about him.  Like anyone else, he has angry moments where he says mean things to us, and maybe he figures we have the right to do the same?  He doesn't really seem to care what anyone thinks about him (unless, of course, you're talking about his basketball skills), so perhaps he would be unphased.  It's not like he thinks he's had some sort of idyllic childhood, so it might not be a surprise to read about the frustrations later on.

I consider this blog a labor of love.  Clearly I never meant for it to be filled with negativity, but parenthood throws you some curve balls and it evolved.  But for every negative post, there are so many more that document the good times, the victories, and all of the things we've done to try to give Jacob (and Carter) a good life.  Maybe someday he will read it and be hurt by what he sees when it's down "on paper" in front of him.  Again, I don't think much of it will be a surprise, but it could sting.  But I hope he sees the love and dedication, too--the many attempts at trying to make it better, the many trips we took even though we knew they would be hard, that time and time again we gave him the opportunity to do something he loved, no matter how much time or money it involved.  Hopefully he'll see the desperation in some of the posts, the sadness that our challenges have brought, and understand that only something so loved could cause a reaction like that.  It's only hard because it's important.  If we didn't care, it would be easy to write him off and let him fail on his own.  But we can't, and we won't.  And that's what unconditional love is all about.  Have I made mistakes along the way?  Yup--big ones, in fact.  Maybe this blog is one of them.  But there isn't a manual for this and sometimes we just have to find a way.  It won't always be the best one, but survival mode is like that sometimes.  

I think we all have moments as we get older where we find out all of the stuff that our parents did to raise us, and we find out it was hard, even in the best of circumstances.  My friend found out earlier than most when she overheard her parents' conversation, but I think most of us find out when we become parents and see just how much dedication and sacrifice this role takes.  Initially it's things like sleep and a social life, later it might be money or hobbies, and with some it's peace of mind or maybe even their sanity.  It's a hard job.  If you'd have told me pre-pregnancy what parenthood would look like 11 years in, I probably wouldn't have done it.  Not because I don't value my kids, the experience, or the life we have--I do, immensely--but because the fear of the unknown would have been too much to take.  It would have been terrifying to think about willingly changing my life that dramatically and being faced with so many tough choices.  Staying in a good, moderately fulfilling life would have been easier than jumping into something so overwhelming, even if in the end it made me a more well-rounded, fulfilled, and raw/real human being.  None of us know what we're getting into when we see the positive pregnancy test.  You think you want more out of life, so you hope for the best and go for it.  It's a giant gamble, and the payoff is complicated.  But you do it and you find your way through, even if the path isn't always the best one.  

Ultimately, I think that's what I was struggling to communicate to my friend.  Those posts may not have shown Jacob or me in the best light, but in the moment it's hard to know what's best, and you react.  You grasp at any shred of commiseration or support, and that desire generally outweighs (in the moment) the idea that one person may think less of you for sharing it.  In that instant, you just want help or comfort.  And particularly when your child is little, it's not the first thought in your head that they may grow up, dig into your social media account, and have their life shattered.  I suppose we're getting to that point with Jacob now, however.  Before you know it, he will be my Facebook friend and he will regularly see if I say anything about him.   I will probably try not to, but hopefully if I do, he's as blasé about it then as he is about it now.  And if he takes the opportunity to dig deeper into the past, we may have to have another conversation.  I can't change what's been posted, and I refuse to make myself crazy trying to rewrite history with the delete button.  I just have to hope that the love he feels the rest of the time is enough to know that he means everything to us, and a few frustrated moments--online or in person--can never change that.  

(Future Jacob, if you're reading this, just read that last line again.  Thanks.  I love you so much and always will.  No matter what.)