As startling as becoming a parent was – you mean I get to bring the baby home?!? – I was more than happy to say ‘goodbye’ to my old life and completely sink into full-time motherhood. Call it an escape, call it hiding, call it what you will, I was in self-imposed heaven, delighting on finally being able to complain about what I saw as ‘real’ problems like lack of sleep, breastfeeding, child rearing and finding the best highchair money could buy. As parenting goes, I was nailing it. That is until my children became older and I suddenly had to face a grim reality.
They needed me less. And I wasn’t one to sit down and twiddle my thumbs.
Knowing that re-entry is one of the most dangerous parts of space travel, but feeling like the analogy worked quite well for how it felt to be facing a new life post-motherhood, I decided to procrastinate for a while in front of the TV, going as far as to carry my old and dusty laptop onto the coffee table and placing there, front and centre next to my coffee cup, wondering WHERE ON EARTH I would begin.
Then one day, I opened it up.
Like all media-savvy ex-media employees such as myself, I had obligingly set up a Facebook page when it was first in it’s infancy and I’d even posted some incredibly boring information about my food consumption, my moods, my marital status and my thoughts on television shows post Oprah’s retirement, but I’d never really been serious about it. Imagine my surprise when I realised that Facebook had also been fed and nurtured and had grown into a fully-fledged people connector. Without even having to leave the house or brush my hair or fit into my old jeans I could connect with my old life and try and figure out a new one.
All my old people were there, waiting for me.
Facebook had gotten serious. Was there anything you couldn’t do on it these days? I think not. I scrolled madly down my neglected feed and was told all about grocery delivery services, sleep training techniques (four years too late to help me) and all the information I could want about my friends, family and colleagues and where life had taken them.
I dove right in and before I knew it, I felt…found. Funny that. I hadn’t even realised I was lost.
Facebook became the conduit through which I discovered and designed my new life. Now it has become my constant, my portal through which I send and consume information about everyone and everything, both serious and not so much.
It got me thinking…I know the role Facebook played in my parenting life. It ‘found’ me, it informed me, it fed me and gave me company and gossiped about my friends and work colleagues. Facebook was my friend, family, job agency, news feed, dietician, pediatrician, counselor, confidante…and if had quickly become so important to me, how important a role did it play in the lives of other parents.
And for those who became parents well after Facebook found it’s calling to be everything to everyone, how has this shape the role it plays for parents today?
Also, what role does it now play for me?
And that, my friends, is how I arrived at my beloved thesis subject. “What role does Facebook play for parents”, or something like that. Every time I sit down with my thesis supervisor we come up with a million variations. I’m thinking of putting them all into a hat and picking one at random, in order to decide.
My thesis is just the first step. That’s this year. Next year I embark on my PhD which I have been assured will take me WAY LONGER than the allotted three years. It could be four, it could be five. By then, Facebook would have gone through so many rapid-fire changes that it will be a completely different beast? The roles it could be playing for parents by then will be endless.
Have you ever stepped back long enough to examine the reasons behind your Facebook use, the choices you make while using it and the role it fulfills for you, or is Facebook so established these days that to step back and analyse your own use of it is similar to pondering your heart’s ability to beat, or your lung’s ability to breath?
Has Facebook become that ingrained in parenting yet, or is this the future I imagine for it? Over the next four or five years, I plan to explore it in all it’s glory.
I’ll keep you updated on my findings. I’m pretty excited to get stuck in, to be honest.
Let the thesis commence…wish me luck.