Monday, January 28, 2013

All the Right Things About Instagram

Norse the Rabbit.

old barn I run by (ok-jog)

student made snowflake hanging throughout my classroom

warm cup of coffee

one of my wonderful 7th graders made this necklace for me

Glass Haus-Charlottesville

reading at our local library

my kiddo drawing on my Promethean board on my workday-brought the kids with since Grandma was sick. They never complain about having to spend time in my ART ROOM, one of the perks.


So one of the things I was so excited about when I got my grubby middle aged hands on my iPhone was to immediately download Instagram. So that I could take pictures for.....for.......well, basically myself. My Instagram is simply moments I want to remember, every day moments, like a year in pictures/snapshots.

But I have come to the realization that with all of these cool internet tools, I'm using them like cro-magnon man used the wheel......LOOK everybody, it can roll down the hill! So, alas, I use Instagram for just one purpose......I take the picture when that little thought bubble comes up to the top of my brain....."I'd like to remember this." Snap. And put a nifty little filter on it. Voila.

(Also,  I just found out via my students, that kids aren't really using Facebook anymore, they are using Instagram. And they are not using it for posting pictures of old barns and bunnies.)
  
My husband and I just did our own version of an After School Special (if you're too young to remember those 4pm beauties then you are definitely reading the wrong blog, by the way (see how I spelled that out-old school, man......oh wow. ). We found our son using Instagram to....to.....post pictures of his new snowboard (ok, cool), a picture about a spoon attacking him (oh, he's ready for middle school), and to talk to A GIRL. All of a sudden, it's a whole new world. So, we had the talk about internet safety, responsibility, like how everything you put out there is written in Sharpie and not Crayola Washable and not to post anything you wouldn't want your mother seeing.....etc. AND, we made him let me "follow" him, cause, oh yeah, this mom is friending her kids and "following" them too. And then, they will friend and follow me......because I just know that my son wants artfully filtered pictures of cups of coffee and pics of his sister at the library. But I see it like this, your mother loves you and she will remind you and she will embarrass you sometimes too but there's no special filter that will bring back your youth and I intend to capture it and keep it and maybe sometimes post it.....and I'll follow you forever, that's a promise.

Monday, January 21, 2013

Zippy

okay, okay, it's cool, it is
 All right....all right.....all right....ONCE upon a time I was 29 years old, cute and on the lower end of the BMI healthy range and living in the city. I lived with my fiance (now my husband) in a 1200 square foot apartment in Cleveland Park, Washington DC where our rent was as much as our mortgage on a four bedroom home is now. We drank coffee from the local bean shop and took strolls down Connecticut Avenue. Went for runs through Rock Creek park (unbeknownst to me and unfortunately right past poor Chandra Levy, yes, sigh) We named the giraffes in the National Zoo, I called the baby Zippy and claimed him as MINE. The Uptown theater was right across the street, we always sat in the balcony, a movie there is an experience. We had parquet flooring, a window the size of our wall, a view of the National Cathedral, an envelope sized kitchen with classic black and white tiled floor. But nothing about my life there looked like this. Okay, I do realize this puts me in the 40 year old mother of three, once an Indie hipster gal turned domestic who is apparently jealous of twenty/thirty something creative WONDER couples, with no kids, and copious amounts of unfiltered creativity that they apparently have on tap. I know, but I am sure, sure, sure, sure some of you know exactly what I am talking about and you are quietly fist pumping our abilities to not buy into the pink clear glass vase look and arranging our books into pastel color families that would mean constant vigilance to keep pristine, ordered and unbroken in our households. I can't help it, it's ridiculous. Whew, I feel better now.

Actually, I very rarely visit sites these days that make me feel that someone else is living better, cooler, hipper.....who needs it. (which brings me to my Pinterest worries... I get this feeling that people are using it to make themselves feel bad, defeated that they aren't making cute paper organizers out of leftover pizza boxes, sprayed in metallic....oh, you get the idea-this Pinterest thing is a whole other post...)

I recently took my daughter into DC to go to the zoo. We scooted through the animal exhibits, even viewing a chest beating show from a huge gorilla (which was really really cool), but, sigh,  no giraffes. They weren't there anymore, perhaps they too decided to head to the suburbs.

It's not that you have to give up the things you love when you become a parent or enter into a relationship but it does change. The pastel paper thin vases balanced precariously on the mantel turn into family photos, the glasses, sippy cups. And it's all good, it's not going to be featured over at Design Sponge but that's okay with me........I used to have a giraffe and nothing is better than that.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

WInter Pics

when little miss does this with her teeth, we call it bunny teeth-appropriately






South Street Inn in Charlottesville


Thursday, January 03, 2013

Do the Work With Joy



Just lost this entire post one minute ago.......a few witty paragraphs lost into cyberspace. Ugh...so this is going to be it for now......here is some art........enjoy.