that’s the headline that will be coming soon. Sure, I put everything up online from my muffintop, my shingle blisters,my butt crack. But, my kids are on to me. When I told Vivien I wanted to shoot her taking me on a tour of her Campanile she agreed with a caveat, “it’s only for our family mom.” That kid is hip to online privacy.
NO more pictures, we are not amused.
Drats, it would have been a great vid to post. Let’s face it, absence of my kids 80% of my funniest videos would not provoke a chuckle. Without my kids how can I be mom vlogger/blogger? I could be a blogger/vlogger who is hostile towards her cats, really what else is going on around here? ( btw cat lovers, remember these cats were foisted on me and one of them is truly nuts, and my daughter and I are allergic.) With out their funny lines, or approaches to life how would I be inspired?
That’s why this video cracked me up. Shows how modern parents will hang their kids out to dry if it will get hits on youtube. It’s for Ragu, but not a salesy video. Seems more like an ad you’d see in Europe. Love when corporate America risks having some humor. ( It’s the not the one of the kid walking in on his parents)
Mom bloggers seem an unlikely crew to worry about privacy. Some bloggers use nom de plumes, or give their kids nicknames. Not me. My name, my husband’s name, my kid’s names, have all gone on this sight. I worked in broadcasting, my husband has some fame in the cooking realm so that opens one up a bit. Whatever shred of privacy we had went out the window post Madoff. By the time the local news called I figured, what the heck? Everyone knows we were caught up in the biggest ponzi scheme in history, might as well be the poster child.
Rex, helping me blog
So, when momversation friend Jessica Gottlieb invited me to a luncheon for my info guardian my first thought was, “I love Chinese food I will go.”
In short, if you signed up for classmates.com and such over the years those sites sold their info to information sites. So, if you are not a former basic cable superstar or a judge on Top Chef it might behoove you to look into this.
One of the take aways I got from the lunch, besides realizing that you could fill up on appetizers at Mr. Chow, was that every few months we need to change our passwords. Passwords are such a pain, but the man from my info guardian.com said once people know something about you they can figure out your password. So, obviously my passwords are all imanaginggayman, or ginismypoison.