KEEP YOUR BABY OUT OF OUR FEED
Photo credit: Hero Images / Hero Images / Getty Images
Not dissimilar to the days before your egg shacked up with a sperm and you had a few too many Long Island Iced Teas, your vision is compromised. Beauty is in the eye of the birth holder. To the other several billion who don’t share DNA with your little earthling, it just looks like a baby. Sure, your baby is cute, but we don’t need to see every facial expression, every new food they try or excessive images of how cute they look when they are sleeping.
Having a joint Instagram account will save you tons of time in the long run — adding different filters to an almost identical photo serves little social media purpose. Divide and conquer: Dad gets the messy food shots, while Mom snaps bath time. Come up with a co-gramming strategy to keep your followers intrigued. Above all, refrain from commenting on your partner’s image when, for the most part, they are probably next to you on the couch. Turn to them and compliment each other on your child-making ability. Perhaps exchange a fist bump (optional).
Have you ever posted commentary as if it was coming from your baby? Stop. It’s inconsiderate, it’s inaccurate, and it’s simply untrue. When the tyke is older, if he or she so desires, they may wish friends and family a happy birthday, anniversary, etc. Until then, don’t put words in their mouth.
We all put our best foot forward on social media. We like to present a perfect version of ourselves and our lives on the internet. Instagram made that even easier with its flattering filters. Your child will undoubtedly have some embarrassing nude photo one day, but should you be posting their first one? And while we’re at it, belly and bra self-portraits? Is that the example we want to set for our daughters? If you wouldn’t post that picture when you aren’t pregnant, then you shouldn’t post it when you are.
TMI (toilet mis-information)
Generally what happens between the canals of those ceramic thrones are dirty little secrets kept between cheeks and seat. Adult persons tend not to announce the successful placement of their bowel movements in the bowl, and neither should little people. Keep the potty talk to a minimum.
Thou shalt not complain
If it’s “life’s greatest miracle,” then mind your tongue (or typing). Quit whining about their sniffles or earaches. Maybe they cried for hours and didn’t sleep through the night, but in the grander scheme of things, you have a healthy baby. Life’s greatest misfortune, on the other hand, is when a child is truly ill, and as a parent there is nothing you can do, like little Anya, who has spent half her life fighting leukemia. Or, consider your friends who would give anything to have a baby even if it meant no sleep. Think twice before you tweet your #momproblems.
Assuming others are as excited as you are for the revelation of your unborn baby’s gender is quite presumptuous (and uploading four albums about it to Facebook, even more so). As if baby showers weren’t thrilling enough, gender-revealing parties are extravagantly sexist shindigs decorated with stereotypical colours. Any reason to have a party is a good reason, but that said, a dry party is at the bottom of the festivity food chain. Couldn’t you pour a blue martini or pink cocktail from an opaque shaker instead of cutting into cake?
Edit those eyebrows
While every slight facial expression excites you, to us infecund folk, your child looks more or less the same until it’s a preteen. If you really want to wow viewers, then try thinking outside the box a bit. We’d suggest drawing hilariously disproportionate and cartoon-like eyebrows. Unlike the basic baby photo, this is quite comical.
As a social media coordinator, what I’m allowed to view via some profiles is alarming. Private things used to be kept private. Parents would call their friend or that neighbour down the street to complain about the hardships of child-rearing and wouldn’t leave a giant digital footprint of every diaper rash online. Check your settings so strangers can’t creep your children! This writer is thankful that phase of creating Facebook accounts for their neonate is now over.
They’re the centre of your universe, but they’re clogging up our digital one. You used to post about other things, other interests, hobbies, pastimes, etc. We miss those posts. You’re not just a mother; you’re a friend, a sister, an artist, a culinary wizard, a blogger, a jogger, a photographer, a team player… The list goes on. While we’re at it, stop referring to yourself as “Mommy.” Unless your infant is browsing your feed, no one else calls you that.