There is much I want to write about. But I can’t, because as Zachary gets older, his privacy becomes more and more of a serious issue. Already, I don’t use my children’s real names around here. I make a point of never posting photos. I may be comfortable hanging my ass out in the wind to be viewed by the various and sundry who come along, but I try hard to respect the privacy of my children.
I Googled myself last week and quite a bit came up. I am, if you must know, highly Googleable. I have to be if I want anyone to know about my writing. Now that we live in a small town, I have to be much more cautious about what I say about my family, because we are much easier to find than we were when we lived in Los Angeles.
My family is nuts. My family of origin, I mean. And while most of them are the harmless kind of nuts that just hates me but would never hurt my kids, there are a couple with a proven history of hurting kids. I think my children need to be even less searchable than they already are.
I took their pictures down from Facebook. I know I can set privacy settings, but that then leaves the job of keeping them safe in the hands of whoever the hell runs Facebook. How do I know what Facebook really does with my information or when someone will compromise that particular site?
I walk a fine line between needing to be very much out there in public and keeping my kids shielded. That line is complicated by the fact that I write about my kids, and there are often things I would like to masticate in public that I instead decide to leave alone. You’ll notice nothing particularly intimate comes up here unless I am the only party involved. I am willing to tell you all about my failings as a parent or share anecdotes that are more or less generic, but I am cautious when it comes to many, many things.
So, you’ll never truly get to know all there is about my kids by reading my work. If you really want to get to know me, keep reading, because that’s my ass you see waving around.
(Or, come to BlogHer, because I just registered for the conference. Um, y’all will talk to me there, right? Because I’m a little nervous, and I don’t own any fancy shoes.)