To know me is to know I am technologically challenged. ('Understatement of the year', L is currently thinking.) Let's put it this way: two days ago was the first day I uploaded a photo from my actual camera to my Facebook page. I don't know how to post a picture on this blog that is not stored on my own computer. 'Toggling' boggles my mind. Think about it, people.
It's not that I don't like technology. I actually LOVE technology, when it works. But when it doesn't work, I'd much sooner toss it in the trash than figure out how to fix the problem. I don't have the slightest desire to know how my iPhone works or what sorts of codes I can put in my computer to make it do magical things. I get much more excited over a new book from a favorite author than I do over an announcement from Apple. Don't get me wrong-- I want all the cool gadgets. I just want them to work, without my having to intercede. Always.
For the past seventeen months, I've had to accept that fact that Anna is 98% her Dad. It's not that I mind, it's just the reality. The adoption question still comes up a few times a month, but now I know it's more than just the way she looks. As she reveals herself to us (truly the most amazing thing about being a Mom), I know that she has also inherited her Dad's technological savvy.
How do I know this? She just figured out how to take pictures of herself on my phone. And by the looks of it, she's pretty proud of herself.
I'm actually very happy about this. Her love of technology will serve her quite well in life, I'm sure of it. But just in case she ever wonders how she possibly came from such a book-nerd/computer-dumdum/ woman in her thirties such as myself, all she needs to do is look at her jacked up big toe and out of control hair and know...