Monday, January 16, 2012

#whyareyoufollowingme?



My husband will tell you that I have an unhealthy obsession, which, I suppose, is a bit redundant given the innate nature of obsession but still, this is what he believes.


(aside: do you ever feel that you are the only person on the planet who spots the obvious logic of a situation and yet cannot persuade others to see it your way?)


I call it a pet peeve, not an obsession - I have broached the subject less than 6 times, so it hardly qualifies but I won't quibble (again). It's Twitter.


I love Twitter. I tweet often. I re-tweet. I mention. I follow. I follow back. My pet peeve, and I'm only slightly embarrassed to announce this publicly, is when other tweeps unfollow me. I just don't understand and frankly, you unfollowers, my feelings are a bit hurt.


People use Twitter for a myriad of reasons but for me, Twitter is primarily a professional platform. I am building my "personal learning network" - a.k.a. #PLN - and connecting and sharing with like-minded educators around the world. It's fantastic. I'm not trying to sell tea cosies or porn or get a kajillion followers. I am methodically and conscientiously building my network.


Following someone new on Twitter can be a bit like a blind date, except that you have ALL THEIR PREVIOUS TWEETS TO READ and kind of assess a) what kind of person they are b) what they are interested in and, obviously, c) what they tweet about. If the abc's don't gel with what you're up to on Twitter, don't follow them. It only takes a few minutes to see if you're a match or not. Seems simple to me.


My twitter heart is on my sleeve. So, why, for the love of Pete, do people start following me and then quite unceremoniously unfollow me a few days later?


My photo is front and center. My profile is there for you to read. I have over 2000 tweets you can scan to see what I'm up to. Is the "what you see is what you get" just a little too obvious for you? Did I not surprise you enough? Did you think I would follow you back even though your entire Twitter feed is in Japanese or worse, incredibly boring and irrelevant?


I feel like you're driving me home because I didn't make out with you in the back of the car even though you knew I had a boyfriend. You just wanted another notch in your Twitter belt.


Honestly, I think you're kind of sluttish and well, I have my pride. Go tweet with @suzy745 and think before you follow. I did. 



Sunday, January 8, 2012

Oh, Luke Skywalker, where have you been?!

Christmas at the Bramble house brings a brooding cloud of parent shame that is on par with the should-be shame of toddlers-and-tiaras-special-juice parent pushers. There exists in our humble home enough lego to build a second summer home in the Hamptons or, at least, Lake Cowichan - enough for a wrap-around deck and extendo-dock. The collection hit the ground running with #1 and then over the last decade and with child #2 gathered enough momentum to be the natural disaster plot in a Will Smith doomsday flick.



So, it was with some happiness coupled with deep embarrassment that I announce two new babies in the Bramble-lego-brick household: the adorable "Alien Conquest" and its collectible twin "Indiana Jones". Merry Christmas 2011.


And so begins the great clean-up of 2012, for, in order to make room for these enormous new sets, one must reorganize and as I like to say - redistribute (to the neighbours, to charity, to the recycle bin). This past Saturday, as I shuffled and lugged and carted, I rediscovered the joy of rediscovering.


Every baby and child-rearing book touts the power and simplicity of the "put away for a rainy day" toy strategy. But not having read such books since, well, I was pregnant, I guess it had slipped my mind.


You see, my children are spoiled rotten. Like budding hoarders, they are mostly unaware of all the cool stuff they already have. But with a little bait-and-switch, suddenly they are looking at Luke Skywalker as if they had never held his little plastic body in their sweaty, greasy hands or as if they had never snapped his blond hair off and replaced it with Harry Potter's...or Hermione's. They'll be mesmerized anew. For at least 20 minutes.


So, my fellow long-suffering-long-guilty parents, I recommend doing the ol' switcheroo every few months - shuffle a few books, move the playmobil upstairs, and bring the puzzles out of the closet. It'll be like Christmas without well, the Christmas. 


p.s. My 16-year old is going to kill me for lumping him in with his little brother but replace "Luke" with "Winston" and it's all the same.