CONFESSIONS OF A FACEBOOK FAILURE: Year 2

Day 1: My kid ate a candy cane for dinner. A year old candy cane. Alright, I think it was older than he is. And I didn’t even try to stop him.

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A year ago today, I decided to switch out my selfies for shame, in an attempt to change the face of this fiction. So in the spirit of giving, I am gifting y’all once again with a daily dose of self-esteem, in knowing that no matter how bad it gets, mine is probably way worse. I hope you enjoy diving into my daily, dirty little secrets this December.

Now, back to today’s sinful spoils…

So we dove into the Christmas boxes today to try to soothe the savage beasts with a temporary whine suppressant of novelty. The beauty of limitations in long term memory when you have lived less than a lollipop, is there is no need for “new” in novelty. So, I thought the manufactured memories would buy me some time, and dared to dive into the fantasy of dinner fixin’ without the music of “Mama, Mama” mixed into the mania. But then I noticed the wrapper (okay, wrappers), which I first assumed were our poor man’s menagerie of recycling bin, packing pretends (too cheap to invest in the indulgence of bubble wrap for our breakables).

I was wrong.

And when I could no longer avoid witnessing the consumption of the calcified cane, I must admit that my first reaction was not disgust…

…but delight in the epiphany that I had finally found a silencer, wrapped in cellophane, that would allow me an entire minute to myself.

So I decided not to break the silence.

And in the spirit of my long dead Grateful 365 Project, I have decided to switch my shame to celebration, in an attempt to laugh and learn and embrace the ugly.

Grateful 365 Day 125: Silence. Sticky, sickening, unsanitary silence. I’ll take it.

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CONFESSIONS OF A FACEBOOK FAILURE (FLASHBACK)

Day 1-My 17 month old knows how to say the words lollipop and french fry…and not because he is a baby genius, but from sheer mass practice.

I am totally starting a FB revolution and I invite yall to join me. So in a similar fashion to November messages of Thanksgiving, during the month of December, in the spirit of giving, my gift to you will be one reason, each day why you can feel better about your own adventures in parenting, as you delight in my epic failures. Let me explain. While I am admittedly a FB addict, I can also testify that it is not always a healthy addiction, especially as a mama in the trenches of parenting. I’ve read the studies on FB-driven mommy depression and I’ve experienced my own FB envy while reading about your eco-friendly home gardens, planted and nurtured by your gentle wee ones, as they all desperately, although politely, fight over your fresh-picked kale and sprouts. Well, I didn’t grow my own veggies (no time), or even buy organic (no money), or heck…even feed my children anything without the word “snack” in the title today. I admit it. Still, I’ve also been the one who put up the picture of my sweet little angels all snuggling with smiles, secretly having deleted the 37 other pictures of them with their fingers up their noses, showing off their underwear, while tackling each other. The truth is FB families are a bit of a lie. Come on…admit it. And while their is nothing wrong with sharing our celebrations and putting our best foot forward, I thought it might be fun to practice a comical version of humility this month, so we can all celebrate the real parenting success…surviving another day with our little monsters and laughing about it. My theory has always been that if you aren’t exhausted and humbled at the end of each day, you are probably not parenting that well anyways. So, let’s liberate each other and share those deleted family shots and one-liners your kids said, that both humiliated and humored you. Or just read mine and find joy in the comedy I call my life. Enjoy!

If you can relate, please LIKE, or SHARE, or FOLLOW, or read some more.

Help me avoid the morning-after-writer’s-remorse that wells from the paranoia of my signature self-shaming, by giving me your virtual nod and smile, and I will promise to divulge deeper despairs in days to come.