There has to be some long-term detrimental effects for the children on these shows. If by watching these things viewers aren’t complict in the harm it causes, we certainly bear witness to the poor characters of the parents who would subject their kids to this intrusive and unwelcomed disclosure of their privacy.

If nothing else, we can cite the various negative outcomes experienced by childhood movie and television stars who went on to struggle in their later years with self-worth, drug and alcohol abuse, criminal behavior, and….oddly enough…warped senses of reality for their experience.

Life is not a television show. Life is hard enough without the pressures and demands of invasive media and the Alice In Wonderland warped views provided by melodrama for the cameras and hyper-dialogue that doesn’t coincide with the normalcy of childhood and adolescence.

If we think the false sense of entitlement is bad in the average teen, wait until we see what these poor “childhood reality stars” end up like.

Might as well fingerprint them now. We can take the mug shots in a few years when they’re hauled in for questioning by the police.

I think that the distinction you make in your “Crazy Narcissistic…” post is key to whether a “mommy-blog” can be exploitative of children. Like you, I see my blog as about me and my experience of motherhood. I am not attempting to tell my daughter’s story; I’m telling my own. That is how I justify giving my 8-month-old an online presence, at least.

Still, though, I worry. Even if we aren’t making our children perform, own performance here must have an effect on them. It brings up the obvious question: at what point does the desire to post cause us to experience our real life as fodder for blogging? And, even more frightening, how often do we ever-so-subtly construct our reality to give us that better post?

I think this is an issue all bloggers – all writers – have, but it strikes me as more serious for mommy-bloggers, especially when we’re anecdotal. What happens when I’m cradling or playing with my baby and the thought comes to me, “I should write about the way I’m feeling right now”? I don’t think my small performance is damaging her for life, but I am concerned it’s not always fair to her in the moment.

Basically, my reasoning was this – I’m not anonymous, far from it. I’m published online and off and anyone who knows my name can find me and my work. And so anyone who knows my children will find my work. Using their first names – or not – doesn’t really change that. And the pseudonyms, in a way, were feeling silly and contrived, and end of the day, whenever Emilia or her friends look at the stories I’ve told, I’d rather that they find *her*, and not an eternal Wonderbaby.

And – it keeps me honest. I’m more careful, I think, because she’s less of a constructed character to me if I use her (and his) name. They *are* characters – but I might be tempted to take more license if they were just Wonderbaby and Sprout rather than Emilia and Jasper.

(Their last names? Much harder to find out. We don’t share a surname – that is, my professional name is not their surname. And My husband keeps his on the downlow, so. Future friends googling their full names will not find this content. For whatever that’s worth.)

Either way: UGH.