Mama, can I have your phooooone? No matter who is asking, the question is always delivered with whine. Which makes me crazy. So the answer is often no. I don't want the boys chronically plugged in. I want them to be engaged and active. I want them to ride bikes and find bugs, to sing and dance, to invent. Which they do. And half the time the boys are borrowing my phone, they're swiping through photos and snapping their own. They're making creative choices in cupcake-decorating or monster-making. They're learning new words, like omnivore and voracious, ravenous and predator. How can anyone say this is bad?
|Getting comfy with technology. |
Kidding: this particular shot is just evidence of lazy iParenting.
Today I learned, via NPR, about camps teaching kids to hack—to dissect, and gain a command of, the technology that's all around. And, then, it occurred to me that it that it's not just that Jules, an obsessive rock collector, may not end up a geologist or archeologist, and Kai, forever in mesh and sleeveless shirts, may not find work at a gym. The fields that they choose, or that eventually choose them, may not even exist yet. More surprising (given that my work conversations often center upon terms like SEO, SAS and API): it's the first time this thought has occurred to me. Huh.