Tingirl got a laptop for Christmas, and has been on it virtually non-stop on the kitchen ever since. She was on it on Sunday when Mrs Tin walked into the kitchen (I’ve just looked up at the title and the way this story seems to be heading, but don’t worry, it’s nothing like that). I was in the next room watching somebody beat somebody else by ten or twenty runs, or points, or goals, or possibly even doubles (the cricket/rugby/football/darts I’ve watched over the last five days has all become a bit blurred) so I wasn’t paying too much attention till I heard Mrs Tin exclaim “how did you do that?”.
“I didn’t,” replied Tingirl, “I think it might have been Dad.”
Now, all I’d done with her laptop (after all, her brothers had set it up, they know far more than I do) was show her how to find You-Tube, where, to our eternal shame (and quite possibly our eternal damnation) we continued my weekend of sport by watching the Pope being rugby-tackled. Therefore I had no idea what they were talking about until the next sentence, which was Tingirl giggling and saying “look, it talks about Tingirl. And Tinsons.”
With the words “Oh” and “Shit” now taking up so much of my mind that I’m surprised I’d enough brainpower left to actually walk, I made by way to the kitchen.
Apparently, one of Tingirl’s friends had told her that if she typed “Bray School Project” into Google Images she’d find a picture of herself aged about four. So she did, and found this picture. Not only that, but she then clicked into the link, and found this post, about her last day at that school.
And not only not only that, but she’s told her brothers, so now they all know about my blog.
In fairness, I’ve never actually hidden the fact. For example, the little bag that we all got at the Irish Blog Awards last year is hanging over the back of one of the chairs in the kitchen, as I use it to keep things like the link for my camera and my iPod where I can find them. They all knew that I wrote stuff on the internet, but this was the first time they realised that sometimes it’s about them.
I know that Jo’s been wanting me to tell them about it for ages, and on the one hand I’m quite pleased, and I hope they read it, and enjoy it. But the problem with the phrase “on the one hand” is that, unless you’re Captain Hook, the phrase “on the other hand” is generally in hot pursuit.
And on the other hand… not everything in this blog is happy. I’m not sure how I feel about them knowing that I have a history of depression, a psychiatrist and a strange obsession with Yelena Isinbayeva.
Imagine Tingirl, who’s just 13, reading about, say, the days when I was just too down to go to work, and realising that I’m not the wonderful strong man she thinks I am (worse still, imagine her reading that last sentence, rolling her eyes and saying “ohmygod, like, what an idiot. He thinks I think he’s wonderful”).
I’ve thought about it for two days, and all I can do is keep going as I have been. I’ve another appointment with the shrink coming up soon, & I’ll write about it just as I did before. If I start to change it to hide stuff from them, I might as well give it up. So I’ll just carry on as before.
Which is bad news for Tinson2, as today’s original post was to feature a picture of him at the age of eight, and that has just been deferred until tomorrow.
Now they’ll find out what a clever, funny father they have. Well, they might know that already, I suppose, but surely they’ll be a little bit impressed by how many other people know it too?
As for the other things, it might be a very good way for them to find out about the depression, etc. Knowing the truth is rarely a very bad thing in the long run, but a little bit of indirectness in conveying that kind of information to close family members can be a good thing.
Pah. At some point they’ll work out that you and Mrs Tin must have had sex at least three times, and that’ll be a MUCH worse shock.
Just “outed” myself to my dad. He hasn’t asked for the address. Not sure why.
I think your kids can only be proud.
Good luck with it! x
Damn google to hell!
Oh, sorry tinkids, excuse my language.
Yeuwwww, Frend, I think I’ll tell them all they’re adopted.
Don’t worry Mwa, it could have been worse.He could have said “oh, I know, I found it when I was looking up gay porn”.
And Martin, your kids have a REAL treat in store for them with your blog…
That’s gas. I’m sure they’ll love it though – you’ve written some truly lovely things about them here. Anything embarassing can be written off as fiction. They won’t read these comments right? *cough*
This post is ringing bells with me at the moment though as my mam is going through some bad mental issues right now with stress and anxiety. She had kept it hidden from everyone for a long time. I wish she had had something like this blog to vent on before she built up the courage to talk to a doctor followed by my dad and I. It probably wouldn’t have been half as witty (sorry mum!) but at least it would have been some outlet for her. Just so glad she did eventually build up strength to talk to us and get a little support for herself. She’s a brilliant lady.
Anyway this is my longwinded way of saying that you’ll still be the hero you’ve always been to your kids, *and* you’ve got a freaking excellent blog to show off to them also. They’re lucky ducks 😀
Well at least your family look at your blog. My missus won’t even look at mine (BLOG, I meant my blog). And my 6 year old prefers a different kind of jam…
And where is the compusory picture of Yelena Isinbayeva?
Ahhh. Hurray? This pleases me.
Imagine, the tinkids find out their dad has a heart… and an inner life… oh noes!