If ever there was a story that was perfect for the internet, this was it. The story came to a hilarious conclusion as Alexis and I were standing in line with friends, waiting our turn to order brunch. Before that moment, I knew it was a funny story, but that was when it became the funniest dumb thing a smart kid has ever done.
The story involves a very large sequin and a really bad idea and ... that's all I can write.
Yup. That's it. I've actually probably already said too much.
You see, Miss Alexis clearly stated, "You aren't allowed to blog this, mom." Later, she added, "Don't put it on twitter or facebook either."
I could probably jump through the tiny little loophole she left me and put the story on plurk, but that would be wrong. She was clear and I understood her message. But that doesn't mean I can't leave a bread crumb for us to find later when she's ready to laugh her butt off at herself.
(Hi, Alexis!)
The whole thing is a perfect example of the crossroads I'm at when it comes to blogging. I write to remember and I want to leave a history for Alexis, but I also have to respect her privacy. I often create posts that stay in draft forever. They are little tidbits I want her to know but that don't belong where other eyes can see them.
But then there is the stuff she chooses to edit.
I've been open about what blogging means and who can see what for all of Alexis' life. It's a purely selfish act in that I figure if I teach her about what is appropriate on the internet now, I won't have to have the "don't text photos of your boobs to a boy" conversation with her when she's a teen.
The crazy thing is that she gets it. Now. 100%.
The sequin story proves it.
I already knew, though. She sits with me when I copy photos from my memory card to my computer. She insists that I delete any that she doesn't feel are up-to-par. She also sometimes picks out photos that she WANTS posted here. She'll even tell me what story I can tell to go with the photo. Sometimes she reads over my shoulder to make sure I've done the story justice.
I don't know what the future holds for all of these kids who grew up on the internet, but somehow I'm not worried about Alexis. Something tells me she's going to be just fine with all of it.
