Instagram...and beyond

I joined twitter. What a strange place. I haven't been able figure it out.

Bare in mind, I grew up in the birth of the wide spread internet. I remember that god awful squealing sound as I impatiently waited for it to connect before my parents demanded the use of the phone line.  I had a blackberry before it was cool. I have an Ipad 2. I am not opposed to social media, I stay reasonably updated with my technology.

But twitter...its like the 'and beyond' section of Bed, bath and beyond. I have enjoyed the news aspects and keeping up some of my favorite sites like The Chive and Buzzfeed. (check out The Chive...its a pretty awesome place)
But everything else. The conversation with celebrities, like the recent EL James disaster have been entertaining but I still see it as pointless.  I am just not sure I can keep my twenty one followers, most of whom I assume are spam accounts, updated with my every move. 'baby pooped three times, the third time smelled like orange juice' thats a pretty exciting day for me. Who wants to read that?

But Instagram...I was sure I would be lost here too. I was sure I would be just as annoyed with the whole thing. I was sure it would confuse me why countless images of peoples of dinners were fascinating.

And for a few days I was, then after I figured out the hashtag thing. (I thought I was over doing it with four hashtags..,Oh, how I was very very wrong.)  I started to explore instagram and I was entranced by what I had forgotten.

With the birth of each child I was sucked into their world and my whole world was them. And I was okay with that. It wasn't an easy life and their father and I were having a difficult time (I am sure at some point I go into all of that in more detail) but I was confident that we would work it out and this was a particularly rough patch that was affected by events going on around us we had no control over, mainly being the death of my beloved mother in law.

Something that is still difficult for me to discuss, so not now.

I was barely aware of anything else. And then instagram and this thing started to happen. I became aware of the world around me. It wasn't just tasty food and steaming cups of coffee, although there were plenty of those, and artfully done. I could appreciate that.

There was also, trees, flowers, mountains, trails and people. People out experiencing life and their own world around them. I suddenly realized. I am not attached. I am not attached to a man who used me as a surrogate mother. (She was truly a wonderful and amazing woman, who had the capacity to love unmatched by anyone except for my oldest to whom she passed on that capacity, but she also did everything for him...) And while I still have my beautiful babes most of the time, but for two days, two whole days and nights, I don't. I am unattached. I have the freedom to go and experience and step out into the world and see the sights it has to behold, smell the fresh rain in an ancient forest. I can eat in a restaurant that doesn't have macaroni and cheese on the menu. I can enjoy a quiet, but more importantly, hot cup of coffee.

I can go out, I can go do, I can. It's a nice feeling, it is a freeing feeling. It is a high that I hope I never come down from.

Now I just have to figure out how to pay for it...