Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Why I don't apologize for posting 8,000 pics of my kids every day

I am THAT mom- you know me. Maybe you've already unfollowed me. Maybe you think I should feel bad for flooding your feed with a papparazi-like barrage of mediocre little kid pictures. I know because I see everyone rolling their eyes at me and I've read the scathing online commentaries of how pathetic mommy bloggers are.



But here's the thing- how can I put it nicely? You're wrong. You're wrong, and you're a big old meanie. Moms like me, we HAVE to overgram, overpost and overshare. It's less of a choice and more of a brilliant survival tactic. Let me tell you why.


  1. I have no outside sources of validation
When you work a normal job like a normal human, you have people giving you feedback on your performance. People pat you on the back if you do something well. Heck, maybe you even get a raise. The only direct feedback I got today was my two year old throwing a chicken nugget at my face saying, “Not DEEZ chickens! I NOT eat dem!” But if I post a picture of a kid in a brief moment of cuteness (pre-chicken incident), it might get some likes. Someone might mercifully comment, “So cute.” And I will scramble to mentally hoard that seemingly insignificant feedback as a tiny tally mark in my “you're doing okay” column. Maybe I just spent all day looking up recipes, grocery shopping and battling children while cooking simply to produce a migraine and a meal that my kids won't eat. That's why I posted a picture of that average-looking casserole on instagram, fishing for some shreds of validation. Come on, just toss me a “like” before I start questioning my existence. I don't get a paycheck, and sometimes all I have to show for a day of nonstop monotonous labor is the knowledge that I kept my children alive for one more day, and a few instagram photos.


  1. I have no grown-up interactions
I won't lie to you, I sang “the wheels on the bus” a total of 33 times this morning. When I am tired, I seductively announce to my husband that I'm going to go get ready for “Nigh-night.” I once exclaimed, “What a good helper you are!” to a teenage grocery store employee as he loaded groceries into the car. And I knew the moment I saw his disgusted expression hiding beneath the feigned politeness- I have crossed over. Slap some high-waisted mom-jeans on me and call me “ma'am”, because there's no coming back from this. My brain is a never ending loop of pinterest crafts, bedtime stories and no-no words (remember how I used the phrase “big old meanie” earlier?). It's too late for me- just go on without me. Social media is my daily lifeline to the outside world. Are there still grown ups out there, or am I living in an apocalyptic wasteland of tyrannical toddlers covered in ground-up cheerio dust? Is that the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse playing eerily in the background on repeat? Can anyone hear me out there? Does anyone want to talk about what they ate for lunch or like this photo of my new shoes? Anyone?



     3. I desperately need to push pause

I once heard someone say, “The days are long but the years are short”, and I want to tattoo that on eyelids now. When you are living in a sleep deprived, caffeine-fueled haze of wiping noses on autopilot, you tend to be focused on surviving this moment and not a moment more. And then, before you know it, you are bawling at your kid's 5th birthday party, scaring the other children with your desperate sobs. Knowing that I can look back on almost daily pictures of my son eases the pain. It makes me feel less guilty that I've spent most of his life wishing for a nap. I want this early motherhood phase to be over as soon as possible, but I also don't want to miss even one second of it and I want to relive it over and over. I know that doesn't make sense to you. Just double tap my instagram photo and go on with your sane-person life.Babies grow up fast that it feels like they are slipping through your fingers and dragging your life force with them. So I take photos. Incessant photos. In stupid outfits and with stupid props, and then I genuinely believe everyone else will be as excited to see these photos as I was to take them. I once put my baby into a slimey, hollowed out pumpkin for a photo, convinced everyone would be impressed. They weren't. But some friends pretended to be, and for that they earned a place in my heart forever.

A few times I have been told that someone unfollowed me because I post too much, and that used to hurt my feelings. But now I have become hardened and wise and sensitive and humble in a way that is unique to motherhood. Now, if someone wants to unfollow me, I say “adios amigo”. Because I know there are other people out there who care about my sanity enough to like a picture of my boots standing in crunchy leaves. There are people who understand my daily boredom and frustration enough to comment, “he is adorable” on a picture of my toddler son digging in the dirt with his toy excavator. Some days, instagram is the only thing that keeps me from being that mom you see on the news who tried to drive her minivan into a lake. So yeah, I'm not going to apologize.


Also, my kids are REALLY cute, and I'm living the dream. I don't want to forget that. And apparently, I won't let anyone else forget it either.