Full disclosure: I'm on the
fence where Pinterest is concerned.
I'm inclined to think that Pinterest is like power: can be
used for (self-congratulatory) good or (competency-comparing) evil. We've already got so many other things to
blame ourselves for, let's not add gee-dee toilet paper
wreaths to the list, is what I'm saying.
Unless toilet paper wreaths really make your day, in which case I full
encourage you to wave that freaky bum wipe flag.
I do agree with Jaimie's community tagline, though – in my
head, it's a manifesto; can we make it a manifesto? – namely, "Parenting
rarely looks like a Pinterest board."
Maybe you don't know what Pinterest
is … and if that is so, oh MAN, do you ever need Pinterest. I can almost guarantee that the rock under
which you are living could use better lighting, fresh new window/crack
treatments, maybe an inviting area rug or two (ferns are scratchy and those
spore things on the underside scare the living crap out of me). I invite you to check out the site, and
forewarn that you are likely to lose 100 or so hours of your life to it. But you owe it to yourself to get a little
educated about the hottest social
media property since Jesse Eisenberg's pet
project. Before your own mom sends
you an invitiation.
To honour this blog's manifestagline – see what I did there?
– I thought I'd outline in greater detail some of the ways in which parenting
does not look like a Pinterest board.
I'll get you started with five.
Feel free to top up the list via the comment section below.
5. Pinterest is rife
with projects requiring something called Mod Podge. Best I can tell – and I used it on this project – Mod Podge is a fancy name for white glue. Here are three things you can do with fancy
white glue: make a
custom doormat, funkify
a suitcase, create the unholy
union of margarita and candleholder.
Here
is one thing, a staple feature of parenting, that you cannot (should not?)
do with fancy white glue.
4. Pinterest is also a
repository of some amazing vintage finds.
I love, love, love 50s-era
styling, but that era was not
flattering to children (seriously, does that baby not look like it would
promise to never, ever poop again if you would just please, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD
TAKE OFF THIS BERET?!). And if you think
Pinterest can win with more modern kids' clothing? You would be wrong,
friend.
Okay, I think Jaimie's beef with Pinterest relates mostly to
the kid-focused pins. Here are two
parenting-incompatible issues I take with the site:
3. Pinterest assumes
that your children like having crap all over their hands. That ear-splitting shriek you assumed was
your neighbour being stabbed? That was
my toddler when I had the audacity to think he might want to play with shaving foam. He did NOT want to play with shaving
foam. He didn't much care for the mess-free version,
either.
2. Pinterest assumes
your children understand the difference between edible and inedible play
objects. I'm lucky in that neither
of my kids developed a taste for rainbow rice, but I'll
admit that I watch them pretty closely while they play with it, lest my
10-month-old end up riding in the back of an ambulance like some kind of gluttonous
post-nuptial pigeon.
That brings me to the #1 way in which parenting does not
look like a Pinterest board:
1. Pinterest is pretty. It is not sleep-deprived, it is not moody and
hormonal. Pinterest is infinitely
patient; it does not snap at toddlers who preface every statement with "I
don't like …" Pinterest wouldn't
know post-partum depression from link
rot. Pinterest does not have cracked
nipples. Parenting involves all manner
of disgusting bodily fluids – Pinterest does not (unless there is some kind of
hard core kink board I haven't stumbled across yet).
But they do have this in common, and I would be remiss if I
didn't at least acknowledge it in passing: Pinterest and parenting can both
inspire you, and as much as they can drain you, they can, in the blink of an
eye, fill you up again.
Parenting rarely looks like a Pinterest board … but
sometimes it does … and that's magic.
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