5 Tips for Tweeting Parents

I don’t judge parents that have a dedication to technology. Specifically, I don’t judge a parent’s addiction to Twitter. I strongly believe in knowing a balance in one’s parenting journey, and Twitter is a part of my balance. It gives me authentic connections with the world of politics, parenting at large, and social frameworks that support my identity as ME. For all the deep love and affection bursting in my heart for my son, I am more than a mother.

But, for all I may wax about technology empowering and assisting, I also strive to consider my son in my technology consumption. In doing so, I have crafted some basic ideals for my use of Twitter that act as flexible lines in my daily tweeting activity. I feel that I need these lines in place because I thrive on knowing boundaries and barriers. Otherwise, I can lose a whole day on the old tweeter, getting caught up in one social campaign after another. These tips aren’t meant as judgements, but stand as reflections on my personal experience with tweeting and parenting.

1. My Tweets Shall Not Judge, Shame or Embarrass My Child: My skin crawls when I see parents bashing or shaming their child on Twitter. Our children have the right to dignity, including online dignity. You don’t really know who is following you, or where those retweets end up. Our children don’t need their experiences shamed or ridiculed by their parents. For all the frustration or anger you might have for your child’s sudden decision to smear their crap all over your bedroom wall, save it for a private chat with a best mate in a coffee shop, it’s not Twitter material.

 2. My Tweets Shall Not Shame or Judge Other Parents: This is simply a companion to the above boundary. Twitter is too often a place where parents shame other parents who have made decisions ‘wildly’ different from their own. For example, last week a mother tweeted about how appalled she was by a NICU-parent that was choosing to formula feed her premature child. She added to her tweet vitriol that the infant would be better off with with the mom’s breastmilk, given the NICU situation. HELLO. The last thing a parent (struggling with a babe in NICU or not) needs is my judgements. Tweeting parents too often assume that they know what is best for all parents and families and tweet accordingly. Apologies, but you have no idea. You are not living the life of anyone else, and everything is different because everyONE is different. Engaging in thoughtful debate or conversation is fine, but unless a parent is abusing or neglecting her or his child, save your judgements for people who let their dogs crap on your lawn.

3. If He Speaks, I Listen: As my kid gets older, days go by where he is absorbed by projects, and there are unpredictable hours of silence. I might ask him open-ended questions about his learning or offer some suggestions for where he might go next. But I know that there are treasures inside silence, he needs peace as much as anyone else. In these stretches, I tend to gravitate to Twitter: jumping in, reading the news, making connections. But, for as much as I might be pulled in, I always leap out when I hear Aodhan’s voice. I may finish a tweet, but then I put my phone (iPad, computer) down, and focus on my son. He has my eyes, my hands and my breath. I give him my focus, because tweets can wait, messages can wait. His question is right now.

4. Invite Him In: Aodhan knows what I am doing. I speak openly with him about what I do on Twitter. Twitter conversations turn into conversations in our household. I might say, “Aodhan, I just learned about this great new website on Twitter, let’s try it out” or “Grrrr, this {insert bullshit} is really frustrating me on Twitter today”. I don’t hide or covet my Twitter doings, but would suggest that it is important for our kids to know what we are doing on our phones (tablets, computers). They need to know that we aren’t just mindlessly absorbing information. I am active and intrigued, and I want my son to see this. I want him to ask questions and wonder about Twitter, because one day, this will be his world.

5. Hold Nature, Dinner Time and Bedtime Sacred: There are times where I prohibit Twitter. I want my son to honour and uphold Nature (intended capital) as something that no amount of technology could ever equal. I don’t tweet or text on our hikes, walks or explorations. The only technology I bring into the wild with us is my camera.

Equally, family meal time is equally as sacred. Only at dinner time are we all together, communicating face to face as a group, sharing and enjoying food. This time is short and won’t always be with me – as the years between now and his eventually leaving recede. My Twitter pals can wait, and all the Feminist news in the world can get along without me for this special hour of our day.

Every night, after Aodhan’s dad has read him stories, Aodhan snuggles into me while he falls asleep. Although he hasn’t nursed to sleep in over four months, this twilight between his day and night is special and ours. I abandon my phone and focus on helping him slip away to sleep, savoring the thick souls of his feet as I rub them, and the exact smell of his bathtubed skin. I could never hope to capture this beautiful vulnerability of bedtime-love in 140 characters, so why bring it into our cherished time?

Go ahead and judge me for being a Twitter adict. It gives me connections that help take me out of my living room and move my personal actions into political experiences.

My Twitter covenant might mean nothing to you, but feel free to use or modify any of the above guidelines for your own tweeting. I look forward to seeing you out in the Twitterverse!