I'm going to write a fantasy story about a 43 year old divorcee with four kids, that all call her Mum, who moves to california wine country from Ohio. She works part time at a dance studio and attends school full-time for an arts degree. She gets by, by bartering and trading and working part time at a dance studio. When her fifteen year old daughter, who aspires to be a professional ballerina is accepted to very prestigious dance school's summer intensive program all she has to do is ask for donations and voila everything is covered. For a love interest I think I will give her a French wine maker. He will be funny, and down to earth. Oh and in her free time she will be an avid cross fitter.
Oh wait, those are all posts from one of my FB "friends"! Holy Hell people can we please get real? I don't mean to rant, but seriously? I never take anything I read on FB at face value. I can't afford to. If I did I would be crying in a corner everyday because of my failed, boring life. If I believed everything everyone wrote about their children, and husbands, I would be convinced that mine are basically untalented simple minded cave people.
I realize we all want to put things out in the world that make us look good. I have been known to take over thirty selfies just get that perfect casual profile pic. I don't post when my darling daughter has written on Tumblr that she thinks her dad is an asshole. I don't screen shot texts from one spawn that say I just don't understand how she feels, and that I think the older spawn is perfect. However, when I do congratulate my kids' teams for a job well done at meets or competitions, but I don't try to make it sound like they're getting scholarships coming out their perfect little behinds for everything they do, but if that's what you want to think.........
If something really great does happen for someone I love to congratulate them and am happy for them. The birth of a baby, being accepted into their first choice college, those things are brag worthy go for it.
One thing that really does bother me is the amount of people who complain about their problems on FB. All of their problems. Every. Single. One. Maybe it's just my age or they way I was raised, but my problems stay in my house. "Hypocrite much?" you ask as I sit here post my blog every week. In my defense, I post this stuff for people who may be feeling the same way and for them to know it's ok and they're not alone. That and if I don't, someday I will explode and all these thoughts will just come pouring out of my mouth and in a never ending spew of hurtful and vile commentary on everyone I know. So really this blog is a public service. But back to the complaining. I never talk about my illness with others. I don't bring it up often and if I do it's brief. I am happy to answer any questions people have. I just don't advertise my daily challenges. I am finding that more and more of the thirty and under set do just that. I would almost think that their brains were directly wired to FB and every thought that pops in their head is automatically uploaded.
"my husband is such a jerk he said I don't do anything around the house"
to which the husband replies from another room in the same house I presume "I just wondered when you going to do the dishes?"
"see what I mean? he doesn't do anything around here"
"because I work 60 hours a week!"
"while I'm stuck here all by myself all day with these kids!"
I have actually seen a post like this that just went on and on.
Can we all please just try and remember what our grandparents already knew, keep your business to yourself. Now excuse me while I attend the Super Bowl tonight. (in my living room)