One week from today we will be in transit - halfway between homes. There is so much to do that I get the screaming heebie jeebies if I think about it too long. I want to navigate this transition as smoothly as possible for my kids. We are having fun with many aspects of it all, but there are distinctly hard parts to it. On top of that there has been additional emotional drama. One example is that the Ninja Princessa was forbidden to open a myspace account - clearly, expressly, and with lots of explanations as to why. In ongoing revelations coming from her mother's home in Colorado, we have been finding out that not only did she try to sneak in getting permission to open one there with her mother's blessing, but after her mom presented a united front with SH and said no - the Princessa did it anyway. Only now it turns out that she didn't just do it - that she opened her account in April and lied about it directly on several occasions. Not only that but upon reading email that has been sent to her - there is at least one troll that has sent her pornographic email. I suppose she gets credit for deleting that email - but it is disturbing that when she was faced with evidence of exactly what we'd told her we did not want her exposed to - that she covered that up and proceeded with her own agenda. It is not surprising in the sense that it is completely normal for kids her age and in her situation to push these boundaries, to try to sneak this type of thing past, and to learn about the consequences of lying. Just because it's normal does not make it easy. Adolescents experiment with a vast array of risky behavior. As parents, we expect it. We prepare as much as we can - forearming our kids with information and empowering them to make the best choices. We keep ourselves informed and on alert to detect what we can - knowing we'll miss something, knowing there are dangers that we can't even imagine, knowing that in some ways it's a total crapshoot. Somewhere out there - there is a kid who has done things a thousand times worse than anything our kid will ever think about and that kid (against ridiculous odds) is fine - maybe even stronger for having walked that particular road. Somewhere out there is also a kid who did nothing - or did something very minorly risky and that kid is dead or traumatized for life. Parenting is about staying open to information without becoming paralyzed by frightful possibilities. Somehow we frantically try to shepherd our kids through the Scylla and Charybdis of adolescence.
And for some of us - we are trying to do that while being attacked, evaluated, judged, and found lacking in our parental abilities. I am having some fun with my mom and my ex - can you tell?
Peace.
Showing posts with label Technology Sucks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Technology Sucks. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Friday, January 05, 2007
Getting On The Same Page
Weeeellll - as much fun as new electronic thingamajiggies are, there is a down side. That downside is that I can't make all my new stuff work! The brain disrupter rays shooting out of the PS3 at all hours of the day hasn't helped me figure it out either. I won't go into my hosting issues as Sweet Hubby seems to have successfully ported us out of the old host's realm and into a new one. I had nothing to do with that. The less than 'tastic service has been a contributing factor - but somebody seems to have figured that out too. No, my real issue now is learning how to use my new stuff to do all the old stuff. I can make my new stuff do new and very cool stuff (which is ever so much fun) but I can't make it do basic things. (Mail! Mail is good, you silly Mac!)
Also (and I may have mentioned this before) but blogging when there are squillions of children in the house is well nigh impossible. We eat, we play games, we eat more, we build forts, we snack, we have music wars (and cologne wars, and Warhammer wars, and nerf gun wars, and popcorn wars and for pity's sake, how many kinds of wars can 10 boys come up with??!!) and then we scrounge for more food - but blogging? We don't do that so much.
We're fixing to get back into the swing of things - what with work and school and Cub Scouts and wrestling and chorus and karate demo team all starting back up yesterday. Egad, I can see why someone invented the day planner! 2007 is a blast so far. Pictures are forthcoming.
Peace.
Also (and I may have mentioned this before) but blogging when there are squillions of children in the house is well nigh impossible. We eat, we play games, we eat more, we build forts, we snack, we have music wars (and cologne wars, and Warhammer wars, and nerf gun wars, and popcorn wars and for pity's sake, how many kinds of wars can 10 boys come up with??!!) and then we scrounge for more food - but blogging? We don't do that so much.
We're fixing to get back into the swing of things - what with work and school and Cub Scouts and wrestling and chorus and karate demo team all starting back up yesterday. Egad, I can see why someone invented the day planner! 2007 is a blast so far. Pictures are forthcoming.
Peace.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
A Touch of Technophobia
It is amazing how much I love the idea of new technology and how much I resist (out of abject terror) the implementation of it in my life. I get completely hung up on being able to "do it right" (aka perfectly) before I take step one. It is paralyzing.
When I am faced with incorporating a new technology, say, a cell phone that takes pictures and plays an obnoxious array of customized ring tones, my amazing procrastination abilities come to the fore . I delay and pussy-foot around all the while expressing delight, excitement, and enthusiasm for said new technological wonder. (Can ya' tell I'm Southern?!) I am loathe to acknowledge (outloud) how inadequate I feel when faced with a small (yet expensive), time-saving (hahahahaha), culturally imperative device. I can think of things that must be looked up (like which obscure tv show has the theme song that goes hmm, la la, be dah). I can think of people to poll ("What do you think of my new V-tech turbo 1.2 Qhz titanium hulled communication modulator?") I can find magazine articles to read comparing column upon column of incomprehensible features found in all the latest doohickeys like mine (like mine but different - probably exactly like mine but cheaper, more powerful, and "easier to use" if only I could decipher the symbol key for the rating categories!). I can refuse to leave my house therefore obviating the need for a cell phone at all! The list of things I can find to do while I'm fixing to get ready to think about getting started to use my new can't-live-without-it (although I did until just now) thingy grows and grows. It is my defense mechanism for putting off the inevitable moment I start finding out all of the things I CAN'T (but should be able to) do.
For instance, during the recent cell phone replacement ordeal, I discovered that what I can't do is turn my cell phone on when I want to make a call (or turn it off so that it stays off when I'm in the movie theater.) I can't set up my voicemail, let alone check it. (Though I'm tempted to take that one off the list as it's turned out to be an unexpectedly pleasant lack.) I can't take pictures or save them as "wall paper" on the"desk top" of my PHONE! (When exactly did phones get walls and desks??) I can't set the alarm feature to remind me of appointments or wake me up on time while traveling, but somehow I did manage to set the silly thing to go off at precisely 4:13 (a.m. - natch!) every day.
I should say for the record that I am married to a man who would be the first to sign up to have experimental neural enhancing cyber thingies implanted in his brain. He was in "IT" when he was 8 - and they didn't even have "IT" then - just a bunch of brilliant nerds who took apart toasters and put them back together in a way that enabled them to hack into the Dartmouth something something network. I broke out in hives the first time someone IM'd me (two years ago)(even though I'd set it up, pinged them, and sat awaiting a response).
You know, I wasn't always haunted by phones and panicked by messages. In fact, I used to think of myself as quite savvy and technologically daring. And then I had children. Wee bairns who, even though pre-verbal, were never the less able to make my attempts at electronic media manipulation look pathetically clumsy compared to their graceful assimilation. My children as a herd, absorb new technology. Literally - they glom over it like amoebas (amoebae? amoebi? See? I'm doing it already! I am fixing to stop writing this - my very first post - because I can't remember the difference between Latin and Greek plural forms nor from which of those two languages the word 'amoeba' originates. I feel compelled to stop and look it up or apologize for not already knowing it - but I'm not going to do either because the POINT is....) My children suck new things up into their tentacles and voila! They instantly understand what to do even if the new technological widget has twelve different control buttons. Presumably, the Geeky Widget Inc. product development staff understands that my children do, in fact, have tentacles and are therefore fully capable of using twelve buttons (and a random number of joystick toggle hoojer-ma-boppers) simultaneously.
For a while there, I was under the delusion that as soon as I took the time away from my reading/crafty hobbies/wincing at the decibel level of the many media machines propagating in our "family" room, that I, too, would quickly intuit the how's and wherefore's of the modern electronic world. I'm a sci-fi fan for heaven's sake! Larry Niven! Vernor Vinge! William Gibson!!! I can get this stuff.
And the machine universe replied, "Silly rabbit! That is the equivalent of saying that because you loved Snoopy as a kid, flying his dog house while pretending to be the Red Baron, the FAA should give you a pilot's license!" Fact - at the age of three, my youngest could x,square, and triangle circles around me. I've never been able to catch up. (Digression - it's exactly like that lesson in compound interest over time where the very wise 15 year old puts $5 a month into an account for a year and leaves it completely alone and then the 30 year old schmuck who didn't start saving early enough slaves to put $500 a week into savings for the next 30 years and he still can NEVER catch up!! That's the kind of gap I'm talking about!)
But there's HOPE!! And maybe it's the technology equivalent of winning the lottery. I have discovered a small loophole in the cyberese small print of my official contract with Technophobes R U. Daily, I already sit smack dab in the middle of quilt studio cum office - typing away at my computer. In all the time that I save by not being able to play Crimson Skies and Robot Death Monkeys, I do research. I write letters. I journal. I blog without blogging. I'm a master at blogging without blogging! And now I'm blogging! Getting photos and linky things attached in all the right places may be more challenging - but I'm up to it. After all, what's the worst that can happen? (Now mind you, I can usually come up with a bazillion and two horrible things that can happen as a result of any action or non-action I may take but for once... I can't. ) Is this a sign of things to come? Is the grip of technophobia loosening? Have I finally taken my sweet hubby's advice (delivered in his best Scooby-Doo voice) to 're-rax'? Is blogging really all it's cracked up to be? Dare I dream it to be so? (The answers to this and other completely irrelevant questions will undoubtedly be the subject of future posts.)
Peace.
When I am faced with incorporating a new technology, say, a cell phone that takes pictures and plays an obnoxious array of customized ring tones, my amazing procrastination abilities come to the fore . I delay and pussy-foot around all the while expressing delight, excitement, and enthusiasm for said new technological wonder. (Can ya' tell I'm Southern?!) I am loathe to acknowledge (outloud) how inadequate I feel when faced with a small (yet expensive), time-saving (hahahahaha), culturally imperative device. I can think of things that must be looked up (like which obscure tv show has the theme song that goes hmm, la la, be dah). I can think of people to poll ("What do you think of my new V-tech turbo 1.2 Qhz titanium hulled communication modulator?") I can find magazine articles to read comparing column upon column of incomprehensible features found in all the latest doohickeys like mine (like mine but different - probably exactly like mine but cheaper, more powerful, and "easier to use" if only I could decipher the symbol key for the rating categories!). I can refuse to leave my house therefore obviating the need for a cell phone at all! The list of things I can find to do while I'm fixing to get ready to think about getting started to use my new can't-live-without-it (although I did until just now) thingy grows and grows. It is my defense mechanism for putting off the inevitable moment I start finding out all of the things I CAN'T (but should be able to) do.
For instance, during the recent cell phone replacement ordeal, I discovered that what I can't do is turn my cell phone on when I want to make a call (or turn it off so that it stays off when I'm in the movie theater.) I can't set up my voicemail, let alone check it. (Though I'm tempted to take that one off the list as it's turned out to be an unexpectedly pleasant lack.) I can't take pictures or save them as "wall paper" on the"desk top" of my PHONE! (When exactly did phones get walls and desks??) I can't set the alarm feature to remind me of appointments or wake me up on time while traveling, but somehow I did manage to set the silly thing to go off at precisely 4:13 (a.m. - natch!) every day.
I should say for the record that I am married to a man who would be the first to sign up to have experimental neural enhancing cyber thingies implanted in his brain. He was in "IT" when he was 8 - and they didn't even have "IT" then - just a bunch of brilliant nerds who took apart toasters and put them back together in a way that enabled them to hack into the Dartmouth something something network. I broke out in hives the first time someone IM'd me (two years ago)(even though I'd set it up, pinged them, and sat awaiting a response).
You know, I wasn't always haunted by phones and panicked by messages. In fact, I used to think of myself as quite savvy and technologically daring. And then I had children. Wee bairns who, even though pre-verbal, were never the less able to make my attempts at electronic media manipulation look pathetically clumsy compared to their graceful assimilation. My children as a herd, absorb new technology. Literally - they glom over it like amoebas (amoebae? amoebi? See? I'm doing it already! I am fixing to stop writing this - my very first post - because I can't remember the difference between Latin and Greek plural forms nor from which of those two languages the word 'amoeba' originates. I feel compelled to stop and look it up or apologize for not already knowing it - but I'm not going to do either because the POINT is....) My children suck new things up into their tentacles and voila! They instantly understand what to do even if the new technological widget has twelve different control buttons. Presumably, the Geeky Widget Inc. product development staff understands that my children do, in fact, have tentacles and are therefore fully capable of using twelve buttons (and a random number of joystick toggle hoojer-ma-boppers) simultaneously.
For a while there, I was under the delusion that as soon as I took the time away from my reading/crafty hobbies/wincing at the decibel level of the many media machines propagating in our "family" room, that I, too, would quickly intuit the how's and wherefore's of the modern electronic world. I'm a sci-fi fan for heaven's sake! Larry Niven! Vernor Vinge! William Gibson!!! I can get this stuff.
And the machine universe replied, "Silly rabbit! That is the equivalent of saying that because you loved Snoopy as a kid, flying his dog house while pretending to be the Red Baron, the FAA should give you a pilot's license!" Fact - at the age of three, my youngest could x,square, and triangle circles around me. I've never been able to catch up. (Digression - it's exactly like that lesson in compound interest over time where the very wise 15 year old puts $5 a month into an account for a year and leaves it completely alone and then the 30 year old schmuck who didn't start saving early enough slaves to put $500 a week into savings for the next 30 years and he still can NEVER catch up!! That's the kind of gap I'm talking about!)
But there's HOPE!! And maybe it's the technology equivalent of winning the lottery. I have discovered a small loophole in the cyberese small print of my official contract with Technophobes R U. Daily, I already sit smack dab in the middle of quilt studio cum office - typing away at my computer. In all the time that I save by not being able to play Crimson Skies and Robot Death Monkeys, I do research. I write letters. I journal. I blog without blogging. I'm a master at blogging without blogging! And now I'm blogging! Getting photos and linky things attached in all the right places may be more challenging - but I'm up to it. After all, what's the worst that can happen? (Now mind you, I can usually come up with a bazillion and two horrible things that can happen as a result of any action or non-action I may take but for once... I can't. ) Is this a sign of things to come? Is the grip of technophobia loosening? Have I finally taken my sweet hubby's advice (delivered in his best Scooby-Doo voice) to 're-rax'? Is blogging really all it's cracked up to be? Dare I dream it to be so? (The answers to this and other completely irrelevant questions will undoubtedly be the subject of future posts.)
Peace.
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