(or: How to Disappoint Your Mother in the Digital Age)
Ah, the joys of motherhood: sleepless nights, endless diaper changes, and the constant battle against unsolicited advice from relatives who read one parenting article in 1997. But nothing—nothing—compares to the Herculean task of keeping your child off the internet in an age where oversharing is the norm and privacy is about as trendy as a fax machine.
The Digital Age Dilemma
In today’s world, if you didn’t post a photo of your baby’s first steps, did they even happen? Social media has turned parenting milestones into content strategy. Every giggle, every outfit, every catastrophic diaper blowout is documented and broadcasted to a crowd of people who haven’t spoken to you since high school but are now deeply invested in your child’s snack preferences.
But I’ve chosen a different path—a path less liked, less shared, and far less algorithm-friendly. I don’t post my child online. Not on stories, not in feeds, not even in the “close friends” section.
The Grandmother’s Rebellion
Enter: my mother. A woman who sees her grandchild not just as a blessing, but as an opportunity to relaunch her Facebook presence with the fanfare of a pop star comeback. Armed with a smartphone and a complete disregard for boundaries, she believes every moment is meant for public consumption. My polite requests for digital restraint are met with the same look she gave me when I told her I wasn’t going to baptise her granddaughter.
“What’s the harm?” she says, already uploading a blurry photo of my child mid-sneeze to her album titled Grandbaby Glamour Shots Volume 9.
Oh, where do I begin?
Privacy: A Precious Commodity
Kids don’t come into this world understanding Instagram settings. They can’t say, “Hey Grandma, I’m not sure I want my yogurt-smeared face online forever.” They don’t get to vote on whether their most vulnerable, hilarious, or snot-filled moments should be available to your old coworker Barbara who once sold you Oriflame products.
When we post them online, we’re not just sharing—we’re deciding who gets to see them, how they’re seen, and how long they live in the public eye. Spoiler: it’s forever. It’s not just about cuteness. It’s about control. And right now, they have none.
And let’s be real: a stranger recognizing your kid from a social media post isn’t a cute moment—it’s the beginning of a Netflix docuseries.
The Dark Side of Oversharing
Beyond the surface-level privacy issues lies a less-adorable truth: the internet is weird. Your sweet photo can be stolen, manipulated, misused, or just… screenshotted into oblivion. Once it’s out there, it’s out there.
And then there’s “sharenting”—the digital scrapbook your child didn’t ask for, curated lovingly by people who once swore they’d never give their toddler screen time. One day, these kids will grow up, Google themselves, and discover their entire childhood was posted in real-time, complete with hashtags and a pun caption. What a gift.
A Call for Digital Mindfulness (or, Just Put the Phone Down)
Not sharing my child isn’t about rejecting technology. I’m not raising them in the woods with a goat and a couple of cows. It’s about setting boundaries. It’s about saying not every moment needs to be public. It’s about believing that our kids deserve to grow up without being somebody else’s content strategy.
So to my beloved mother—and all other rogue grandparent paparazzi—may I gently suggest: take the photo, sure. But maybe print it, frame it, and hang it on your actual wall, like the good old days. Not everything has to live in the cloud.
Because one day, my kid might decide to go public. Maybe they’ll post a selfie. Maybe they’ll become a meme. Maybe they’ll go full digital detox and live in a treehouse with a pet crow. Who knows?
But the point is: it’ll be their choice.
And until then, Grandma, kindly step away from the “Share” button.
Leave a Reply