Conversations with Alise, Part 6

Unless you're new here, you know about Alise, the now-toddler daughter of one of my best friends, Mindy. Alise is, for me, a Compelling Nonverbal Argument in Favor of Having Kids Soon. I once called her that, only I said "CNAiFoHKS," and boy, you should have seen her eyes roll! She hates acronyms, and she found the lack of helpful vowels in this acronym to be particularly appalling.  

"In addition," she said, "Never abbreviate emotional statements. You only make it painfully obvious that you prefer to mask the emotion of the statement behind a cloak of meaningless letters. The question is: for whom is the cloak?"

"Oh, Alise," I swooned. "I gotta tell you, you are just as smart and sassy as I hope my kids will be. But what if they're not? Oh, god, what if my kids grow up to be like -- like those awful dimwits in Jay Leno's man-on-the-street interviews?"

"The ones who can't name the vice president and who think the capital of the United States is New York?"

"Yes!"

"Well," she shrugged, "that's TBD."

"To Be Determined?"

"Too Bad, Dummy."

"Oh, Alise--"

"Stop your worrying. For better or for worse, your kids will turn out to be like their parents."

"Yes, you're right, you're right. Wait, what are you implying with the 'worse' part?"

"Look," she said, "this is all very fascinating, but do you mind if we talk about something else for once?"

"No, not at all. Shoot."

"Well, I was thinking the other day about Elmo and the commoditization of happiness -- may I have something to chew on? My gums are giving me terrible trouble today -- anyway, those Elmo dolls and the commoditization of happiness. Because they're not selling a toy so much as an experience, you see..."

"Wait," I said. "Can I write about this on my blog?"

"I don't see why not. But why don't you ever disclose details of your conversations with my mother on your blog? After all, my relationship with you is just shy of thirteen months old -- yes, 'that's your entire life!' Ha ha. But that would give my mother seniority in your affections."

"Well, I don't think your mother would appreciate me disclosing all kinds of details about our everyday conversations with the rest of the world. We're adults, you know? And it's sort of different when you're an adult."

She thought for a minute. "That's probably true. But I suspect that change -- the age at which a person begins to require a private life -- comes much earlier than adulthood. I mean, come on. I'll be starting preschool in a couple of years. I'll have classmates, a reputation to establish. But there they'll be all over the web: photos of me sitting around with my shirt off. Photos of me sitting around eating my shirt--"

"I didn't post the ones of you eating your shirt."

"VIDEO OF ME SLEEPING."

"It was cute!"

"How creeped out would you be if someone videotaped you sleeping and posted it online?"

"Look," I said, "I get it. There is a tendency, in this weird, virtual world we now live in, for parents to treat children as something like public figures. 'Sorry, you can't have a reasonable expectation of privacy because you're a baby!' And now all these parents are chronicling their children's lives -- first and last names included! -- online for all the world to see. And if children are to have the freedom of self-determination -- self-definition -- it would seem that a public childhood presented through the filter of an overly analytical parent would be somewhat... limiting."

"Exactly."

I laced my fingers behind my head and leaned back in my chair.

"Look," she said, "don't worry about it. Someday I'll be able to start my own blog if I choose to. After all, there's no better way to control the lens through which the world views you than setting forth your own super-biased version of yourself. And it's not like I have much to combat. You're actually portraying me in a very positive light, on the whole, and I'm sure you'll agree to remove any information or images that I later find to be... suppressive."

"I didn't post the ones of you eating your shirt."

"Well aren't you a saint."

"Certainly not, but I also didn't post the story about the time you poo--"

"I think that's quite enough. Now I'd appreciate it if you could dress me and lift me off the floor. I have a bit of a chill."

Comments

[tiff]

My children talked to me like this all the time when they were preverbal. The weird thing is that everything they told me was true. Listen to Alise, for she is obviously very wise.

[Meredith]

She is very cute, but slightly creepy! But I suppose it is true as my son's every ailments and pictures of him are all over my site. Something to ponder.....

Teej says: I hope you mean that her brilliance is slightly creepy, and if you do, I totally agree. Some of the things that come out of that kid's mouth are astoundingly prescient. Sort of like those horror movie kids who predict the future and see dead people. Only far cuter and less morbid.

[Nothing But Bonfires]

I'm going to start writing to Alise with all my problems, sort of like those columns in the Oprah mag where Suze Orman and Dr. Phil sort it all out for you with tough love and a transcript of what to say to your partner. Is she better at relationship woes of financial worries?

[Xteener]

That picture (while so obviously adorable) says a thousand words, 14 of them being, "You may take my picture, but I don't have to be happy about it."

[Amy]

I agree with NBB, the kid obviously needs her own "Alise Shares Her Piece" column.

[Librarian Girl]

That photo! She is obviously thinking something along the lines of "whatevers, dude."

[Sphincter]

Please run this by Alise for me:
I feel that Elmo was personally responsible for Grover's popularity downfall. I picture it happening in a very All About Eve type of fashion. Is this her sense, too?

[cadiz12]

Alise seems like she has all the best qualities of Stewie from Family Guy and Gaby Hoffman's character in Sleepless in Seattle. an unlikely, but winning combination.

[Maya]

She is, in my humble opinion, EWIMGPASAPETINGTH (exactly why I must get pregnant asap even though its not going to happen). Much like the girl Stewie, indeed. Also a bit like a very cute....turtle?

[kerrianne]

Quickest (of many) ways to confuse me? Acronyms! They use them ALL THE TIME at work. Which probably explains why so often I find myself standing around, staring blankly.