When WhatsApp groups go rogue

This morning I woke up to 120 flashing red lights screaming in my face. At least that’s what it felt like.

Before I even brushed my teeth, I discovered that Lucy missed Rainbows last night because she was too tired, 12 people missed the email about taking in £1 for Comic Relief and Layla has chicken pox (oh and Freddie, Raizel and Alfie *might* have chicken pox but this is as yet unconfirmed).  

I haven’t even looked at my own face in a mirror, and yet I am fully immersed in spotty kids’ faces swarming my child’s room at nursery and wondering what chance I have of avoiding this most recent viral outbreak in order to actually get some of the work done that has been backing up since February 2020. 

Oh, and my sister is asking if I managed to sort flowers for Mum’s birthday (curses, I’d forgotten that). My mate is checking if I am still up for a run later (I’m not). And Vicki from Baby Sign is asking if anyone else’s child has ever vomited up a carrot in their sleep. I have no experience of this, but since no one else has replied there is now that dreaded awkward silence, which is uncomfortable even while lying in my own bed. So, I drop everything else to reply… SORRY NO, BUT IF SHE IS STILL ALIVE THEN PROBS OKAY. Then add, LOL, in case I sounded dismissive.  

Managing WhatsApp has become my full-time, unpaid job. On top of my many other full-time, unpaid jobs. And my full-time, paid job. Every time I get added to a new group I cringe, but to take myself back out again feels like flouncing out of a party the second you’ve walked in the door. So, I hover near the snacks, waiting for my opportunity to sneak out. But we all know that there is no sneaking out to be done with WhatsApp. Which is surely a clever design feature. It’s like they have locked the door and if you want to leave you have to walk up to the host and ask for a key. 

Andy asks if anyone can babysit (for the fourth time this month) and then… “Sarah – has left the group”. 

Whoa Sarah! Everyone glances away from their phones uncomfortably.  

The other problem is that, actually, I kind of need the WhatsApp groups. As much as I find the Reception mums group a bit overwhelming, it also serves as a PA for the badly organised.  

“Don’t forget it’s own clothes day today!” (KIDS, GO BACK UPSTAIRS AND GET CHANGED). “Anyone want these unworn school jumpers?” (YES PLEASE, BECAUSE I BOUGHT THE WRONG SIZE). 

“Anyone want me to organise the teachers’ gifts this year?” (OMG YES, I LOVE YOU).  

If I leave some of these groups, I’ll be left swimming the sea of nursery and school admin without a lifejacket, and I am not a strong swimmer.   

Plus, I do like the fact that one group regularly shares inappropriate memes, they make me laugh after a hard day of parenting. And another I know is a place I can thoroughly vent and someone will always reply with love and advice. I have a family group that allows me to hear from cousins who I wouldn’t otherwise speak to regularly. And a writing group who share great articles that I always enjoy reading.  

So, I’m wondering instead if we couldn’t do a little WhatsApp admin of our own. I don’t want to call them rules, but, well, rules. Because I sense that everyone is missing whole chunks of their life just trying to keep up with this thing. And I really would like to brush my teeth.  

Firstly, when one person says, “Welcome to the group,” or “Get well soon,” perhaps the other 32 people don’t need to say it? Just a thought? Maybe this is harsh, perhaps just the first 15 people then. 

Secondly, if there are three of us arranging one event, like, where to meet up later on tonight, it does not require a new WhatsApp group. Surely?  

Thirdly, there are some things that are better kept to yourself. Or put on Facebook.  

Finally (just because I think this list could become quite lengthy and inappropriate), there is normally a point to the group, stick to the point, people. Derek – who shared that a random friend was turning 50 this weekend on our street’s WhatsApp – I’m looking at you. Read the room, Derek.  

Okay, I realise this is a bit unfair. We are all just humans trying to connect, and people like to share what their cats have been doing at the weekend and how many days it is until Christmas during June.  

But I think what I’m saying is that I sometimes find WhatsApp takes me away from actually being in the room and communicating with the real-life humans in my house. And the app is not structured to let you switch off easily. It’s like being at a constant gathering with other people who don’t stop talking day and night. And as an introvert who can struggle with anxiety, not all the talking is useful. I wasn’t concerned about how my child was coping with recent events in the news, but I am now. Side note – the app is amazing for this very thing, when you get differing opinions and you want some advice, based on actual science, that you can trust, as opposed to something a friend of a friend once heard down the gym.  

This all probably means I need to do my own admin. I need to set my own boundaries and mute the conversations that don’t bring me any pleasure. I need to stop judging others who might be enjoying the WhatsApp community immensely and be a little kinder on this front. And I do need to be a bit braver and leave a few more rooms. 

Which I will definitely do.  

Just as soon as I find out who does indeed have chicken pox.