At least 10 times a day, I sum up whatever’s going on in 140 characters or less. Or I make it into a short witty status update. I don’t know if thousands suffer from this malady or if it’s just me, but I can’t help it. While in real life I almost never write facebook updates and I don’t even have a twitter account, my brain is a social media fiend.
I actually think it keeps things in perspective. Or maybe it’s just a nervous tic of the 2000s. Either way, I can’t help it. I think in facebook updates.
They’re funny, they’re sharp, they’re thought provoking.
But they’re not long.
I try to keep them at 140 characters or less. Just in case someone wants to retweet.
It kind of helps me see my life the way an outsider might. Or maybe it makes me live less in the moment. And more on the computer in my head, my fingers constantly at the keyboard, writing quick witty one liners.
Either way, when I went in to my two year old’s room during his nap today and saw him neatly curled up on one side of the crib while the other side was occupied by two beautiful books shredded to pieces, I had a facebook moment. Or a blog moment. Or some kind of moment that didn’t involve me, the mother, observing the destruction of two of our favorite books.
The other a book about becoming a big brother and learning to embrace a new baby (my favorite).
Was it an act of defiance? An act of destruction? Sibling rivalry? Boredom?
I don’t know. But it was an act that would normally make me want to shout.
Instead it made me want to tweet.
And I think that’s a good thing.