Try, Try Again

The other day my daughter asked me why I don’t blog anymore. I guess it’s because life is so busy. And sometimes even the things we really enjoy can become a chore. I am resistant to tell even myself that I am going to start doing something regularly for fear that I won’t follow through. The impending failure is too much. I have so much self doubt, my ability to cope with failure is all taken up by my job. I don’t have room to disappoint myself too.

I enjoy writing; I always have. I’ve always wanted to write a book. I still have a promise lingering out there in the universe to my 9th grade English teacher, Mr. Hamel, to dedicate my first book to him. But I write a lot for work – nothing therapeutic or funny (ok, maybe sometimes my sarcastic brand of humor works its way in), or in any way documents my life experiences, but the need to put words on a page is fulfilled.

 I didn’t really ask Lil about why she was asking; I seem to recall we were laughing at something that her brother said. I suppose it’s because even though she finds it embarrassing at times, she likes that I write about her and her brother. When she was younger I wouldn’t let her read what I wrote. It wasn’t for them. It was for me, and for those of my friends who felt like connecting with me, sharing in my joys, and in my frustrations. Now, I would let her read it, but she’s no longer got any access to the internet (that’s a story for another day). Reading back on a few of the posts, I’m glad I wrote them. They provide a memory, more accurately told because of the timeliness of capturing the moment. When that moment may otherwise fade – the details evaporating as new memories fill their space – it’s here in black and white to look back at and laugh about.

 Now I’m encouraging her to write her own blog. I don’t have any expectation that she will become the next blogger phenom. Like me, English and writing come naturally to her. Written words on the page help her to clear her head, organize her thoughts, and express her feelings in a way that she can’t express otherwise. Her unique perspective could also help others (something I hope for in my musings here).

 With 2 other bloggers in the house, I want to renew my intention to capture moments in writing. I’m not a resolution kind of girl. But I do reflect – on what I’ve accomplished, where I could’ve done better, on the goals I have, and on how I wish to spend my time. Intention in my line of work means everything. And while the road to hell may be paved with them, I’m headed there anyway so why not intend to write again?

I have to have a Moshi Monster!

The other day I found myself having a very serious conversation with my children about the importance of carefully choosing your username and passwords. It is important. They require some consideration and I have to be aware of their choices as well so that I can monitor what they are doing online. But it seems like such a funny conversation since I don't really have anything to compare it to in my childhood.

Let me first say that they know that they are not allowed to create any account online without our permission. As far as I know they haven't broken this rule. (I am pretty sure Lilly won't anytime soon as her internet privileges are sacred to her - God forbid she not get to watch a YouTube video of Justin Bieber!) The problem is that I've given them permission on a couple of occasions when I was busy doing something else and wasn't paying enough attention and they've set up their own accounts. Later, when we were talking about their accounts I asked them about their usernames and passwords. To put it simply, they have no clue.

To them they are just looking for something that they will remember. They don't understand that there could potentially be crazy, effed up people creeping around a website designed for little kids to "own" a monster. They are kids. They see the best in people.They are still innocent and don't fully understand some of the crazy stuff that happens in this world. And so they use some conglomeration of their names. To which this parent responds, "AHHHHHH!"

And so we talked. We discussed (in elementary school age language) the importance of having a somewhat oddball username and password. We discussed not EVER giving your password to anybody, even your best friend. We tried to figure out how to cancel their accounts so that they could start fresh with more secure screen names.

When I was a kid we talked about people calling the house when my Mom and Dad weren't home. We talked about what to do if someone knocks on the door when no one else is home. The Internet didn't come to my house until I was about 15. And it was dial up. And it was limited. It was nowhere near the crazy place it is today.

I still teach my kids those lessons my folks taught me. They know how to answer the phone and not state that we aren't here. They know that they are not to open the door for anyone. And now they know that they have to come up with some concoction of initials, their favorite pets names and their Webkinz pets birthdays to come up with a username and password.

Gosh, sometimes this parenting thing is hard! You just can't think of it all ahead of time and plan it all out. There's so much thinking and making decisions on the fly.

Have any of you had problems with this?