The Rest Of The Story – Part I

Social media stresses me out—the Father’s Day posts elevated my blood pressure. ‘You are the best; thanks for all you do; you are always there for me.’ It’s sweet, but isn’t that the gig? To provide cheer, support, wipe noses, etc. But that’s neither here nor there. 

Scrolling through the feed leaves me conflicted. My internal battle erupts, a push-pull of inadequacy and yearning for more.

Whoa…Hold Up

Aww, social media, the fuckery of fakery, a bunch of smoke and mirrors, I say. But that is not entirely fair. Sure, there are those that filter and stage all the photos, but the moments are real, right? Friends are getting together, laughs are happening, places are explored, food is served, and opinions are being shared. 

So, what’s up with my ambivalence? Honestly, I must reconcile my feelings with social media to continue blogging. Unfortunately, there is no way around this. I need a come-to-Jesus moment; what the heck is setting me off? So, I take pen to paper and purge…. and then it happens. I see it.

Curated

My disconnect lies with the meticulously curated posts that neglect to tell the whole story. We get morsels of fabulous, but I am salivating for the in-betweens. The speed bumps of life are what connect us. Complex and less-than-perfect moments are where we grow together, so I gravitate towards keeping it real. This means less of, ‘Being a mom fills my cup and brings me eternal joy, look at my perfect kids’ and more of ‘I love being a mom — most days, give or take, depending, sometimes, I don’t, but mostly I do.’

Black Kettle

Flipping through family albums, I realized I am a hypocrite. I whine about the slivers of perfection that don’t tell the whole story. And yet, I have systematically curated photos of my boys that reflect pure bliss, condensing the years into beautifully packaged bound books filled with flawless images.

Will they look back and think life was a cupcake? At my age, I rely on pictures to tell my childhood stories. The truth is, I can’t differentiate between a real memory and a photo that I have looked at two dozen times. Ah, shit. I want them to reflect on the whole of it, bumps and all. 

Perhaps curating is a coping mechanism to protect, survive, and carry on. An attempt to forget the not-so-great moments—maybe social media is no different—coping with the environment and adapting by producing images of how we wish to be seen.

Hmm, feeling confused, less judgy, and have more questions than answers.

To Be Continued.

Xo-Mic


The Rest Of The Story, Part II

To Kelly on Father’s day,

Here’s to my guy and his half-bitten tongue! I see you biting down a lot; yes, times have changed. Well done, you are killing it in the annoying category. Keep riding them on in terms of manners, respect for women, work ethic, and character. I know, they talk back and think they know more than you—to be fair, sometimes, they do know more—how do they know so much?  

Yes, they would rather hang out with friends and spend their money than work. And they definitely don’t respect cars. Did you see the latest scratch? Sorry, I know how much the car thing bugs you. I agree; they are spoiled, not in an assy-attitude way but in material comforts. I still say, that’s on us, babe—our bad.  

Don’t stop. Keep setting expectations and holding them accountable. Yes, to mowing the lawn and shoveling the snow. Yes, to teaching them outdated skillsets – hey, in case of an apocalypse, they’ll know how to change the tire and check the oil.

Keep on them for the foul language- sailor mouths, I tell you, you can blame their mama. 

Keep hugging them —even when you want to strangle them; keep talking to them about uncomfortable stuff; it’s all downhill after the condom and banana demo.

Good job, you, You are crushing it in the teeter-totter of fatherhood, the perfect balance of lighting their asses on fire and loving them fiercely. Keep pushing off, slowly releasing your grip and allowing them to use their feet too. 

Their legs are not as strong as yours, but soon, they will be, and they’ll be off—gosh, I’ll miss the stinkers. 

Happy Father’s Day- 

Also, thanks for not giving them away and letting them live with us. I love being their mama—most days.

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0 Responses

  1. Girl, as always SPOT ON. I read these and nod continuously like a dashboard bobblehead. Yep, got that. Yep, that’s me. Yep, that is too true. This is why I so love my friends, my real friends, the crew that gets me in good times and in bad; it’s a marriage and til death do us part.
    I too hate social media, but love it as well. I love seeing adventures, and children growing up and knowing who has now left this earth (this is life’s way of reminding me that every day is a gift). I recently found out that my first boyfriend died unexpedidly and it truly felt like a gut punch. We were still friends, still kept in touch, and not that I ever wanted anything more, but he was a part of my past and it’s sad that he’s no longer here. That’s keeping the shit real.
    Then there was Father’s Day, while I have a great relationship with my dad, it wasn’t always great. And there are my friends who have an absentee dad or their dads have passed away and it makes me sad for them. All of these Holidays occur and people feel the need to load it up on social media and it’s like a mouthful of molasas, nobody wants that, and in all honesty it’s sickening.
    Then I scroll past the “so in love, and life is perfect” posts and I have to give it the “fuck you, you idiot” and wish there was an emoji for that.
    So I circle back to my crew to spew my highs and lows, we laugh and we cry. Oh trust me, i’m not removing social media, it’s my mindless entertainment.
    Keep it real Peeps!

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