I "de-activated" my account ten minutes ago, to much less fanfare than I expected (I don't know what I was expecting, some sort of departing ceremony?). I participated in a real-time messaging frenzy amongst friends to make dinner plans next week, then proceeded to my Account page, clicked "De-activate account", and wouldn't you know it, discovered that re-activating my profile is as simple as LOGGING IN AGAIN.
WTF, Facebook? How is that supposed to safe-guard my Facebook Sobriety?!
I guess I have to look at it the same way as puttin' down the bottle. It's always going to exist in this world, but I've officially stepped over an invisible line where now I have a choice.
It boggles my mind how intertwined my life had become with this social media website. I perused through my wall history last night to see how far it would take me (B.A.-Before Addie), and copied/pasted my favorite updates in a Word document so I can reference it when I actually get around to writing in the kid's milestones. Um, speaking of which, what kind of horrible parent am I that I never wrote down a single weight/height/age marker for Addie since she's been born? I don't know how much she weighed at her 2-week, 1-month, 2-month, 4-month, 18-month checkup! God, I should've at least shared it with the world on Facebook.
So far it feels like I have done everything totally backwards when it comes to having kids. With Addie (my first), I was militantly utilitarian and a mega cheapskate. Hand-me-downs all the way! Who cares if she's dressed solely in boy's clothing for the first four months of her life; this is 2010 people, let the gender lines be blurred! I think the only items we spent money on were cloth diapers (which I compulsively researched on quality/price-points like my very life depended on it). Louie's wardrobe definitely consists of some hand-me-downs, but they are from a dear friend's son who she always dressed adorably, and they are all in perfect condition. Plus, I bought cute, manly little pieces here and there once I found out I was having a boy. Like this shirt:
Robots Rule.
Addie, on the other hand, looked like she was dressed by aliens who came down to Earth and were handed a miniature human and a pile of mis-matched baby boy clothes:
"Can you tell my mother has never dressed a baby?"
At least my friends and family took pity on my poor, androgynous-looking child and bought her some new, girly clothes:
Which would still never save me from the shame of dressing her like this:
"What did I do to deserve this?"
That's right. She is wearing an old work-out tank top belonging to my mother, circa 1985, with blue baby legwarmers, and a hoodie with a whale on it. Add to that her male-pattern baldness and she was quite the little stunner. I'm not saying I'm proud, people.*
Dressing/purchasing of baby-items is just ONE of the many things that has changed since having a second child. However, this post is devolving into an example of why my eldest will be speaking to a therapist about me in twenty years so I'm going to stop for now. At least I can show her this photo one day and say, "See! I learned, and look at how relatively normal you appeared by 18 months":
Hmmm....
*Although to be fair, she was only wearing that tank top because she got poop all over her onesie while we were visiting my mom,and, I, expert packer of baby-things, forgot to pack extra clothes.
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