Facebook should really be called “Smugbook”. I have had a love/hate relationship with Facebook. In the beginning, I didn’t really get it. It was one of the first times I felt “old”. Here was some new technology that I didn’t get AND I didn’t really care IF I ever got it. I had a MySpace account (whenever I think I’m having a bad day, I think of the guys that founded MySpace and then my day doesn’t seem so bad!) and it wore me out because it seemed so pointless… all that time wasted on making your page look cool on the off chance that people would find it and friend you? No thanks.
One thing that MySpace was great for was stalking. Everyone has at least one ex-boyfriend (or girlfriend) that they still wonder about, and with MySpace (and Facebook before they changed all the privacy settings), you did not have to wonder anymore!
I had a Facebook account because my sister, who was in college at the time, had one and she was posting pictures on her “wall”, whatever that was. I was peer pressured in to actually using my account, and, once I figured it out, I was hooked. I connected with so many people from back home that it actually made me sad. My time in St. Louis is very limited, only about ten days a year, and there are so many people I would love to see, to grab a drink and just catch up with, but I don’t have the time. Facebook creates that artificial world- a world where I almost feel connected- it feels like I know what’s going on in someone’s life, but in reality, I only know what they chose to share… and frankly, I call BS.
If I am to believe everything I read, then something in my life is amiss. I do not go on fabulous vacations all the time, I don’t always look perfect, and my three year old just might kill me.
If I believe the hype, then every mom other than me has a perfectly behaved toddler who will eat anything and everything and loves to go to bed each and every night. Where do they sell these kids and is an upgrade package available?! I’m kidding. Most of the time.
My daughter Emma is so darling, even she knows it. She will look in the mirror and remark on how pretty she is. We encourage a healthy self esteem, but as we want it to be based on more than just looks, we remind her of how smart she is. Her response: “No Mommy I not smart. I PRETTY.”
Super. I guess we should start therapy sooner rather than later. I wonder if we would get a purchasing-in-bulk discount?!