One of the many reasons for the my long blogging interlude (in addition to the obvious, honest reason that laziness begets laziness) has been the inevitable questions that float around in my head concerned with what I might share, what I should share, how much, how little, what is my story and what is not.
Anyone reading this who writes about their personal life and has children – or indeed other family or friends – will have grappled with this. However, as many of you will know, adoption brings layer upon layer of additional complexity to this question.
So today I tried an alternative approach. Let’s stop trying to work out the impossible and ask directly, whether he thinks blogging is ok. Unsurprisingly this was a bit of a strange conversation. (I summarise.)
“Blogging? Blogging is like writing a diary or writing at school about what I think, or about what we’ve been doing, or what I’m worrying about. You know you’ve seen Twitter, well blogging is another thing I like to do.
I get a look.
“It means that people can read about us. Maybe. I write about things that might be interesting about where we go, what we do, what happens. And about adoption in general. And other things too.”
I get another look.
I try another angle.
“I’ve also been wondering, if you don’t mind me writing about us and what we do, what you’d prefer to be called?”
Aha! The look of disdain. Clearly that is the most obvious question ever. I guess it indeed is when you’re 5 and have no idea really what you’re being asked about and why.
“Well I’d rather not use your name. You know one of my jobs as a Mummy is to keep you safe. Well I don’t really want to use your name. Just like we talked about your name shouldn’t be in the newsletter at school.”
Doubtful look. He has never been that keen on what I suspect he sees as a strange not fair weird thing that stops him being able to point to his moment of pride recorded for all to see when he comes home clutching the class award for the week.
Well this is going well. I plough on.
“I thought maybe “my boy” or “Little Man”. Or we could choose a new name for you, you could choose one? I’ve used “Little Man” on Twitter before”.
Eyes brighten. Big smile.
“Little Man. Yes”.
Hoorah! Well that definitely gained the seal of approval.
The now-named Little Man clambers down. Turns away. Comes back.
“So do you think it’s ok if I do blogging then, tell people about what we’re doing?”
Nod. “Yes, Mummy. I think blogging.”
Earnest look. Ah, we’re moving on.”I think my batman T-shirt today.”
“Well no, lovely, you wore that yesterday and I haven’t done any washing yet have I?”
The moment has clearly passed. I think, just about, we’re ok for now?
A few hours later:
“Hey, listen, this is the kind of thing I sometimes put on Twitter. Listen:
We did a proper Autumn walk – canal, fields, farm animals, acorns, mud, wellies. And only one small “moment” 5 minutes from home. Success 🙂
What do you think then? Does that sound ok?”
The look I receive back is a gem, with all the gentle patronage a 5yo can manage, communicating effortlessly “you interrupt my colouring to ask me that?”.
I grin and wander off, feeling duly put in my place.
A voice floats after me. “Yes, you can Twitter that on Facebook.”
I smile to myself.
I think we are ok for now.