Blogging is no longer cool

As possibly one of the last people to show up to the blogging party, you could say I have finally arrived. The only significance in that is it's a sure sign that blogging is about to become passe (or is it already)? As someone who has always been passionate about technology and pop culture, I have fallen incredibly behind in recent years. Never was that more clear then when I turned on the Grammy awards last February and didn't recognize a single face, nor for the life of me, could I figure out how to pronounce the names that were handily displayed onscreen during the red carpet interviews. At first I thought I had tuned into the wrong station, but I sadly realized that I simply wasn't tuned in at all.

I always knew that would happen to me someday, but I assumed it wouldn't happen until my son Joshua was a teenager, complaining endlessly about how out of touch I was before hopping into his flying car and zooming off to hang with his bros (or peeps or whatever they will call themselves in 2022). But I clearly got off the cool train early. Or I was forced off by an eight-pound baby boy who screamed and ate and pooped until I could no longer hold on. Not that I was ever really cool, but I at least enjoyed cool, kept pace with what was cool, flirted with cool from time to time at the Apple Store or the opening-night late show or a trendy restaurant or bar in SOMA or Gramercy Park. But I was definitely more of an appreciator of cool than a trendsetter. (And where would the trendsetters be without appreciators like me who admire from afar and then go tell all their friends.)

So now that blogging is officially uncool, I am finally jumping on board. I have actually been blogging the old-fashioned way since Josh was born — in a 50+ page Word document that no one but me can access. Now that I am indeed online, I plan to do what all the uncool do — go backward as well as forward. I will post observations, musings, and tales of my early days as a parent as well as the reflections, insights, and stories I will inevitably gather as I continue down this wacky road. And if possible, I will date the posts according to when they were written (not posted), to provide chronological accuracy. The uncool are nothing if not accurate.

So look around, check back, and most importantly, share your thoughts. Because while I may be hopelessly out of touch, I am always looking for tips and advice from those infinitely more cool than myself. At least that way, maybe I can momentarily be cool by association. OK, maybe not.

Born right in

I woke Josh up early this morning to catch an airplane to Hawaii for our annual vacation. He was groggy enough to actually say, "I want to go back to sleep," which is something this mother of an active three-year-old NEVER hears. I coaxed him out of bed and was reminding him of where we were going and what we would do there as I tried to get him dressed. He became more animated as we talked, and as I was changing his diaper, he randomly said, "All penises are different." 

I agreed and asked if Daddy had told him that. He shook his head. I asked if he noticed that from seeing other kids go potty at school, and he nodded and said, "All the different boys have different kinds of penises," in that matter-of-fact way he often speaks when he's "teaching" me something he thinks I don't already know. Since I have never actually had a penis, I could understand why he might think this was new information for me.

Thinking of our decision not to circumcise him, I wondered if this was going to be one of those parental teaching moments where I explain the difference between circumcised and non-circumcised in language a preschooler can understand (whatever language that is) and describe how neither is better but they are simply different. Before I went down that road, I decided to ask, "What's different about yours?"

Josh looked up at me without skipping a beat and said, "Mine's bigger."