Suburban Kvetch

The mom-blog and keyword combo

My ex called me “Sister Mary Safety.”  It was a good-spirited private joke because I always drove the speed limit, paid for grapes before I ate them and never ran with scissors.  I tested the water temperature in a pool, wore sunscreen, a seat belt and a bike helmet.

And I still do.

My life could be called a cautionary tale, unless you’re privy to the many times I have jumped into things head first, all of which have happened in the past seven years.  When I have taken chances, been risky and stepped over lines - it has never involved my children.

When I started blogging I was anonymous.  Then I let my name out of the bag and allowed my kids to decide what I’d call them when I blogged.  When I write articles and essays that are published online I refer to my son and my daughter.  In one Chicago Tribune article I was asked to use their first names and did so — but they do not share the last name that you all know as mine — the one in my byline.  I have rarely posted their photos - and when I have, the photos have been profiles or muted views.  There are photos of my kids, without ‘tags’ on my Facebook page and no one can see my photos unless I approve them.  Everything in the security section of my Facebook account is private, private, private.

I have seen that many mom bloggers watermark their photos so they cannot be lifted and used elsewhere.  Many use cutesie names like Slugger and Princess for their kids.

How careful do we have to be?  Is there a way to make sure that the dregs of the webiverse don’t go looking for weirdness on our blogs?  We’ve all read the post where bloggers list the absurd google searches that lead people to them.  Most of time it’s funny, sometimes a little creepy.  But if your inocuous titles and either strategically or randomly placed keywords lead sickos to your site — where you talk about your life and your kids — what can you do?  Can you do anything at all?

I read an account recently of a woman who used a few choice expletives in a post title, along with the word “toddler.”  She apparently told a tale about a rude woman who gave a child “the finger.”  I bet it was a great story invoking gasps among a plethora of moms across the blogosphere.

But the google searches that lead to her blog after that were less than tasteful.  They were sick. She’s getting advice on what to do and who to contact even though this (if I remember correctly) was an international search and obviously this person did not find what he was looking for.

The whole thing made me throw up a little in my mouth - but not only because this happened.  I was the only one who responded with not only regret, but with some thoughts on what to say  and what not to say on one’s blog if you want to try to avoid this kind of thing.  I pointed out this was a good lesson for us all.

I know a lot of people enjoy the right to shock-blog, but from what I can they realize what they’re doing. Many bloggers will write anything for traffic.   Neither was the case here.  And yes, the important thing is that this blogger feel like she has “done something” in case the internet footprint left on her site helps authorities in any way. I applaud her for not shrugging it off and for reaching out for help.

But another thing ran through my mind as well: What the hell were you thinking?

As much as this sometimes feels like the corner booth in the local coffee shop, it’s the internet.  The World Wide Web.  As its tenants we should be responsible users, especially as moms who write about our lives and our children.  We each decide how much we’ll share.  There’s no right or wrong - just personal preference.  But wise and careful words are not a mistake.  Are they ever?

As a writer I do not censor myself but my word choices are deliberate.  I am an intentional and conscientious communicator - as much as possible.

Don’t stop honest, forthright, poignant, thought-provoking or funny blogging — but maybe channel a little of your own Sister Mary Safety when you do.

‘Cause the crap that can happen online is no joke.