I love Facebook, but it is weighing me down in a parental and a familial way. Making me feel bad for not being all grinning and perfect and nuclear family-like, with its photos: the mum, the dad, the two kids and the dog laughingly playing with snowballs, or glistening after a satisfying 5-mile hike, or about to set off on a bike ride with matching helmets and toned, tan legs. And it’s all “I love my beautiful family!” and “Another perfect day in paradise!”
Humph, I say. When did Facebook turn into Hallmark greetings cards? Why is it not OK to post what families really do on a Sunday: dads watch Formula One racing for hours, kids get bored, mum shouts and complains that she’s the only one who ever walks the dog, everyone ignores each other, and there is way too much TV watching and too little exercise.
I try. I do. On Thanksgiving Day I rounded up the kids and the dog, declared that we would walk all the way round Reid Park, then regretted it halfway round, when there was no going back. Sweetpea moans if she has to lift a fork that’s too heavy, so her grunts of disapproval were nothing new. But if Munchkin, my little livewire, gets tired, I know I’ve pushed them too far. And my doggie only has tiny legs, so the 3 miles round the park was really a stretch for him.
Bike rides were happening fairly frequently, but then just as frequently came punctures. That’s the trouble with living in the desert: too many prickly things to stab at your tires. We haven’t fixed the latest flats, so that’s that. And my last ride, with Munchkin, was interesting. I was carrying a bottle of wine in one hand, en route to neighbor W’s house for drinkies.
Munchkin looked at me seriously, as he is wont to do. ”How are you going to cycle and carry that at the same time?”
“I thought I could pop it in your water holder,” I said. But, alas, the holder on his titchy bike was too small for the Merlot. “Watch me,” I said, and expertly steered with just one hand. My son is learning a lot from me.
But back to Facebook. It is one huge, glorious distraction, isn’t it? Goodness, people are even getting paid to upkeep other people’s Facebook page. I want that job. But on the other hand, I don’t. How wearing would it be to post upbeat stuff all the time?
No, I’m all about the non-Hallmark moments. We got in the door from our 3-mile walk and Sweetpea declared that she hated me. Maybe I’ll start an anti-perky-and-jolly-family-posts on Facebook trend. “The kids have been watching Cake Boss for three whole hours! How I love my family!!”