I have never been comfortable with the idea -- or reality -- of "mommy [or daddy] blogging," that is women (and men) who blog about their children. While their descriptions of domestic life and/or their children may be cute and/or amusing (and often are) -- and mommy bloggers generate oodles of traffic and advertising -- it's exploitative, and even dangerous when the parent reveals his or her children's names and where they live.
Another major issue with mommy blogging is it often violates the child's privacy.
That's why, despite many of my friends repeatedly telling me I should become a mommy blogger, I haven't done so. (Well that and the fact that I prefer writing about just about everything -- sports, politics, pop culture, Spanx for men -- besides my family.)
Though, I admit, I have on occasion wandered into mommy blogger territory. But I have always been careful not to reveal my daughter's name or where we live or, until recently, her age and what she looks like -- and have only done so with her permission. Except for my last entry. Which my daughter happened upon last night. After I had retired. And apparently it greatly upset her. Which is why I am writing this post.
Too often, in this era of blogging and Facebook and instant communication, we moms and dads forget about our children's right to privacy (and feelings) when blogging or posting on social media sites -- and I want you to know it can come back to bite you. Big time.
More importantly, though, I am writing (wrote) this post as a form of apology to my daughter.
Daughter, if you are reading this (and I know you are, because I emailed you a link), I want you to know that I feel AWFUL about hurting your feelings, especially as that was not my intent. I love you, and have spent 12 years making sure you knew you were loved and appreciated and felt secure. And I would hate to think I blew all that with a silly blog post (which was intended to amuse not hurt).
So daughter, I apologize to you. And I promise I will not write about you again -- on this blog or on Facebook -- without your permission.
But you're still not getting an iPhone or a BlackBerry for Hanukkah.
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