Twitter: Welcome to my inner monologue.
I just saw lightning during a snowstorm. Cool.
— Rita Arens (@ritaarens) February 21, 2013
@lifewithroozle That would be an awesome dystopian YA book title.
— Rita Arens (@ritaarens) February 21, 2013
THUNDERSNOW. I can just see the trailer.
— Rita Arens (@ritaarens) February 21, 2013
I read an article on Salon this morning by a college professor regarding what she sees going on around her: kids utterly dependent on their parents, still, in college, and parents intent on following their childrens' every move via cell phone or Facebook:
College is a perfect middle ground for this age group: Students are forced to make their own choices and take responsibility for them, but help and guidance are there if they need it. What I see, though, is that the self-reliance they should be developing is thwarted by parental involvement. An academic advisor at Drexel told me the other day what she is most surprised by is how students “tolerate parental interference.”
A few people have asked me why I set the young adult novel I'm writing in the year 1990. My truth was that a lot of the plot twists couldn't have happened if cell phones and texting existed. Kids today seem a lot more transparent than they were when I was in high school. It was possible for someone to intercept the note you wrote your best friend about the cute guy, but short of taping it to the hallway wall, there wasn't really a way to mass publicize it. And your parents found out what you were doing from gossip -- they usually didn't have cold, hard, photographic evidence.
I wonder if it's harder to separate ourselves from our kids now because we CAN keep track of them easier. We CAN give them cell phones and insist they pick up when we call in order to have such cell phones. We CAN follow them on Twitter or friend them on Facebook or what have you. We're told we SHOULD at least be aware of what they're doing online -- I worry for me, though, will that be the gateway drug to stalking my kid?
One of the hardest moments for me as a parent so far was the first day my daughter went on a field trip with her daycare to an amusement park. She was riding up there with another parent, a parent I didn't know. And it was AN AMUSEMENT PARK. On a very, very hot day -- I think it was more than 100 degrees that day. I worried she would get too hot, get dehydrated, get kidnapped, fall out of a roller coaster -- there were at least three thousand things I worried that day. I could've volunteered to chaperone that field trip, but I forced myself not to because it would just feed my need for control.
Of course my girl arrived home sweaty, slightly sunburned and full of stories of adventure, high speeds and junk food.
It was so hard to not know.
If I have that much trouble with a field trip, I know I'm going to be a trainwreck the first time she leaves home without me. If I thought I could track her movements with GPS, I probably would. But that's the point of the whole Salon article -- there's a reason kids move out of the house when they're old enough, and it's this: They need to have their own lives.
I'm sure if my parents could've tracked me better in college, I would've behaved worse, not better. With them to rebel against, I probably would've rebelled. As it stood, I barely missed a class and got straight As, because I knew there was no one to make me do my homework and I saw kids around me failing out of college right and left because they couldn't discipline themselves.
I better bookmark this post and make myself read it every night when my girl goes to college, because I'm sure I'll have accidentally left a GPS chip in her luggage.
Oy.
I picked the little angel up from school early yesterday because I thought there would be extreme weather, and I was paranoid after the decimation of Joplin.
The sun shone and the birdies sang.
Then there was today.
I was totally joking. And note to Rita: It's Wednesday.
I grabbed Petunia, my work laptop, my cell phone and my work notebook and shut myself in the only room with a door in the basement. And then my mind starting doing its anxiety thing.
I heard thunder and rain and sirens going on, shutting off, going on. I live in the eastern suburbs of Kansas City.
I pictured the little angel hunched in the basement at school, crying. I pictured not being able to get to her. I pictured every nightmare a mother can have. I felt so lonely.
And then they started pouring in: the tweets.
Finally the storm passed. Unfortunately, it took its toll on nearby Sedalia.
Even though I picked up the little angel early yesterday, even though we were two hours late this morning because of a dentist appointment, I asked.
And they made me feel better, normal even.
The sky was a mixture of puffy white, angry gray and brilliant blue as I drove to the school. Kind of like my mood.
"Were you scared?" I asked, as we walked to the car.
"A little."
"Did you cry?"
"No, I tried to be brave about it."
The teachers did skits for the kids during the hour and a half they were in the basement. And apparently gave them Pop-Tarts because they were stuck down there during lunch. I am so impressed by their ingenuity and grace under pressure keeping all those kids entertained for so long.
I came back and realized I'd left people hanging, these people I'd relied on so heavily over the past two hours. So I tweeted I was home with my girl.
All told, I probably talked to at least 25 different people today, some of whom I barely know. They distracted me and filled my heart with their good mojo. I didn't feel alone anymore.
Thank you, my friends. It's an amazing thing when you can have community alone in the dark.
Just before the holidays, Babble published their Top 50 Mommybloggers of 2010 list. I perused it, saw some of my favorite bloggers and wondered briefly what the criteria were for inclusion. I finally decided it was an editor's pick sort of list and went back to packing for the holidays.
I saw a few tweets about it over the weekend, but this morning, Twitter was afire with bloggers on the list upset that a popular vote had been added.
Voting. Ugh.
Yes. Yes!
That is what voting does to us. It makes people (except those with lots of friends) feel like shit.
It sure made for a good conversation.
I've been upset for years that blogging seems to reward with traffic a) those who campaign for it or b) those who throw other people under the bus. I'd like to see a list rewarding good writing, as that is what blogging is: Writing.
Which is more authentic? Babble's original list or the new popular vote? Or neither? It's hard to say. The popular vote doesn't jibe with the Babble editors picks, as of 11:15 this morning. Why did Babble open it up?
The commenters on the list post were unhappy about the already-popular nature of the list:
They were also unhappy about the lack of diversity on the list:
But opening up the list to the popular vote may have been the straw that broke the already-so-done-with-popular-vote mommyblogging community's back.
Babble, you may have blown it this time.
What do you guys think? I'm waiting for Mom101's list instead.
Today must be up with technology day. I explained Twitter to one of my co-workers today (after explaining it to Steph and her husband last weekend). My analysis: Twitter is the virtual equivalent of passing notes in study hall. Except with adults. And some news and commentary thrown in that I would've never wanted in study hall but that I want now. I also like vegetables now. Go figure.
Anyway, that's not what I want to talk about. What I want to talk about is Lisa Stone, Elisa Camahort Page and Jory Des Jardins being the #1 most influential women in blogging, according to NorthxEast. Who is NorthxEast? I'm not exactly sure (I'm never afraid to admit my naivete, power user though I am), but the effort put into this list is pretty impressive.
Regardless. I'm very proud to know these women, who inspire me in business and in life. Congratulations, ladies!
You may now return to wondering how to use feedblitz.
And my work computer is still not fixed. But they are reimaging it.
