Nightmares of the Information Age parent
Aug. 29th, 2004 11:23 amThe wee ones were in town this weekend, so I got to spend some Quality Time (read: kids let Daddy know that they love him, alternating with doing everything in their power to make that little vein stand out in his forehead). We quite literally attacked the elementary school playground for a while, then went to lunch, where we watched Abbey's McDonald's priveleges vanish before our very eyes as she positioned herself in the play room's gerbil tubes at the top of the slide and refused to come down. (Jimmy Carter's negotiation skills ain't got nothin' on Anna's: she had her down in 3 minutes flat.) There was much fun to be had, with conversations like this one:
Abbey: I want to go home for lunch.
Me: But I thought we'd go out to eat.
Abbey: No, I want lunch at home.
Me: You don't want McDonald's?
Abbey: [temptingly] But Dad, we have chicken. And graaaaaavy....
Me: Um...
Abbey: You know you can't resist it...
But the conversation that scared the living pudding out of me came the night before, when I called their grandma's house, where they were staying. Abbey answered the phone, and we chatted only a few seconds before she leveled me with a line that sent freon running through my veins, something no parent wants to hear.
"Hey, Dad," she said. "I'm reading your journal."
Oh, please, no. Tell me she's kidding.
"Some parts of this are really funny, Dad. Like right here, on August 14, where it says, 'Excess and loving it'? That is so funny!"
Oh, Jesus on a jetski, tell me this isn't happening....
"So I've gotten all the way up to July 15. Why is there a picture of a little lemon with hearts coming out of his eyes? Does that mean you're in loooooove?"
Naproxin. Need Naproxin. And Maalox...
"And why does it say the security is 'public,' hmmmmmm?"
So, yeah. My seven-year-old daughter is reading my blog now. I told her that maybe it might possibly be a somewhat good idea to have a grownup screen the contents of said journal before she plunges into it again. I also made the mistake of offering to set up a journal of her own, until I realized that that was probably a bad idea in this predatory world. Ai yi yi, all the things I never stopped to think I might have to worry about... *wince*
Oh, and Abbey, if you're reading this: Hi, darlin'. I love you to bits, and always will. You should probably switch to nick.com now.
Abbey: I want to go home for lunch.
Me: But I thought we'd go out to eat.
Abbey: No, I want lunch at home.
Me: You don't want McDonald's?
Abbey: [temptingly] But Dad, we have chicken. And graaaaaavy....
Me: Um...
Abbey: You know you can't resist it...
But the conversation that scared the living pudding out of me came the night before, when I called their grandma's house, where they were staying. Abbey answered the phone, and we chatted only a few seconds before she leveled me with a line that sent freon running through my veins, something no parent wants to hear.
"Hey, Dad," she said. "I'm reading your journal."
Oh, please, no. Tell me she's kidding.
"Some parts of this are really funny, Dad. Like right here, on August 14, where it says, 'Excess and loving it'? That is so funny!"
Oh, Jesus on a jetski, tell me this isn't happening....
"So I've gotten all the way up to July 15. Why is there a picture of a little lemon with hearts coming out of his eyes? Does that mean you're in loooooove?"
Naproxin. Need Naproxin. And Maalox...
"And why does it say the security is 'public,' hmmmmmm?"
So, yeah. My seven-year-old daughter is reading my blog now. I told her that maybe it might possibly be a somewhat good idea to have a grownup screen the contents of said journal before she plunges into it again. I also made the mistake of offering to set up a journal of her own, until I realized that that was probably a bad idea in this predatory world. Ai yi yi, all the things I never stopped to think I might have to worry about... *wince*
Oh, and Abbey, if you're reading this: Hi, darlin'. I love you to bits, and always will. You should probably switch to nick.com now.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-29 08:59 am (UTC)Scariest thing my daughter has ever said to me: "I want to learn how to IM."
(after reading Snail Mail No More)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-29 06:37 pm (UTC)*blanches in sympathy* Things I am not looking forward to....
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-31 07:49 am (UTC)i've had the conversation about not talking to random people, etc... she's pretty understanding & good.
they could talk!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-29 09:02 am (UTC)*gasp*
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-29 06:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-29 09:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-29 06:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-29 10:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-29 06:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-29 04:43 pm (UTC)That's one smart girl you've got there. Perhaps you should start friendslocking some more posts?
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-29 06:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-29 10:22 pm (UTC)Along similar lines - Several of my therapy clients have discovered my journal, via posts in communities or comments in the journals of mutual friend. I am *very* glad of my habit of making copious use of the friends-lock from the get-go!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-30 04:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-30 05:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-30 09:53 pm (UTC)Tell Abbey, 'you ROCK, sweetie', love from Kate in Canberra, Australia...
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-31 07:19 am (UTC)now i better see what the banging and construction sounds are coming from the workshop upstairs...