weinraub’s words

Man, my cup of parental pride just runneth over.

Last night, after returning from swimming, we put Benjamin in a long shirt, almost a night-shirt, and we had not yet bothered to put pants on him. No biggie, he’s mostly got the toilet training down, typically announcing his intention to pee and then running off to do his business, usually in the bathroom, though sometimes outside, firing a stream off the front-steps, off the porch, etc. He still wears a diaper while sleeping.

As it got close to bedtime, we started to turn down the lights, to lower the volume on the TV, all that stuff that begins the transition into “quiet-time”, etc. The kids were alone in the bedroom for a few minutes watching TV.

Before Annie or I got a chance to go back inside and get everybody off to bed, Benjamin emerged from the room to show us that he had sourced a new diaper from the shelf and had put it on all by himself.

Holy smokes! 2 years, 4 months?

That’s my boy!

Although Becca is over four and a half, she still likes her chocolate milk in a baby bottle. Annie is not too worried about it, figures she’ll grow out of it in her own time. I haven’t pushed hard on it, but I’ve been laying the groundwork for months with Becca that “you’re a big girl now”, “bottles are for babies”, “soon it will be time to give up your bottle”, etc.

Well, she just came to me with a box of chocolate milk and asked me to get her a cup, explaining “I don’t want a bottle. I’m a big girl now.”

So proud I can barely type through my tears.

So, we are watching Bugs Bunny videos – dubbed into Thai, interestingly enough, with a whiny voice for Bugs. As he attempts to escape from the hunter Elmer J. Fudd, he begins a tap dance routine.

Both kids – Becca and Benjamin – attempt their own tap dance.

Gregory Hines can still probably sleep at night, at least for a little bit longer.

Becca has begun to say “Oh, my God”

It’s not often, and it’s sometimes in a context that warrants significantly less amazement than would otherwise be implied.

But still pretty cute.

A colleague and I were trying to get our heads around Twitter.

No time right now for a long dissertation on the similarities, the differences, the value, etc. All that may come later, though how much more really needs to be said as the blogosphere overflowing with Twitter-related commentary?

Still, my colleague echoed my concerns that Twitter seems to be black-hole for time and for that reason, she has resisted Facebook, despite multiple invitations from friends. My response to her:

Of course you are right that functionally, FB and Twitter are nearly identical: “friends” “subscribe” to your “updates”.

But for some reason, I “feel” that Facebook waits for me while Twitter demands my attention. Somehow I think that the expectation of Twitter followers is for more stuff, now, now, now. If updates are not forthcoming and interesting to your followers, then they will simply unfollow you.

In contrast, I find Facebook friends are really, well, friends, or at least personal acquaintances. They are interested in you, your life, and will wait for updates on your time. I don’t find that people un-befriend you on FB if you haven’t posted in a while.

I guess that’s the difference: Twitter seems inherently to be about promotion: losing your followers undermines the base of people to whom you can shout your message. Facebook is about friends: they won’t dump you simply because you are living your life rather than reporting/sharing it.

I have no regrets about my FB membership. I still feel vaguely sick to my stomach every time I touch Twitter.

I’m sure I will find a way for to use Twitter and to benefit from it. But it sure isn’t coming easily.