Maybe it’s just me, but I’m confused. Lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of Facebook snark about people talking/posting pictures about/of their kids. I’m sure it was there before I had a kid of my own, but I must not have paid attention. Personally, I LOVE when people write about their babies and I LOVE LOVE LOVE when I get to see cute babies in my feed, rather than lame internet memes involving grumpy cats or uninformed political s***. But when my friends post about their hobbies, their careers, their businesses, their families, whatever makes them happy – that’s what I like to see on Facebook. Take a picture of your damn salad. If you enjoyed it, then hell, good for you.
Now I know this snark isn’t aimed at me (and I’m sure most of it is just lighthearted ribbing), but I have to admit I take it a little personally. So, my life was ok to write about when I was bitching about Monday mornings or hailing the arrival of Fridays, but it’s lame to take a picture of my baby and post it? Because I’m pretty sure both things are a part of my life and that’s what we do on social media sites, right? We write about whatever we want, whatever is going on. Right now, for me, the most important and wonderful thing happening to me is Henry. Period. I’ve never been happier, more in love, more fulfilled, more inspired. Is that a bad thing? Should I run out and find another job to fulfill me and then it will be ok? Will I be cool again? Is that more respectable?
In my early 20’s, I had a friend ask me if I ever wanted to be a stay at home mom. I told her I wasn’t sure because I’m a feminist and women should have careers like men. I didn’t want to be barefoot and pregnant, spending my days changing diapers and sweeping floors. Then she told me something I have never forgotten: If a woman chooses to stay at home with her kids, if that’s her choice, is that not feminism? That we are lucky enough to be able to choose?
That empowered me when we made the difficult decision that I would take care of our kids. No one takes better care of her babies than their mothers and that’s what I intend to do. I’ve had a pretty good career so far, making decent salaries with good benefits, which is what made this a huge decision for our family. But, as of today, as of right this moment, I never felt an ounce of the happiness I feel seeing my baby grow, change, discover new things, and smile. And that’s my job now. The job I chose. It doesn’t come with a paycheck or a set of business cards, and apparently I’ve lost the respect of some people, but that’s ok. None of that matters. Henry matters.
And if any people on Facebook or Instagram hate looking at my baby, there is a handy unsubscribe feature and an even handier unfriend feature you can use. It won’t hurt my feelings. I use them both often.
You know what else is cool? I’ve always loved writing and wouldn’t you know it. Here I am. Writing.