After my husband explained to my 70-year-old mother that his new iPod Touch (a prize he won at a recent convention) held all the songs from all his CDs — about 48 hours of music — she looked at the newborn asleep in my arms. If we can fit a thousand songs in our pocket today, imagine what technology will be like when Owen is grown, she marveled.
Just think of the evolution she’s seen, from vinyl to 8-tracks to cassettes to CDs and mp3 players. From super computers that filled entire rooms to the laptop I’m typing this blog on, and even 3-year-old Eve’s toy laptop.
Heck, I’m struck by the changes in the technology we use to communicate, just in the time I’ve been a mom.
When Eve was born in 2008, I sent a mass e-mail to close friends, an idea that seems almost quaint now. I called relatives, and eventually put a few photos on Facebook. I didn’t text anyone.
To announce Owen’s arrival in August, my husband and I still called our closest family members. But I made the announcement over Facebook and Twitter and AreaVoices. We sent group text messages with cell phone pictures, and most of the visitors texted before stopping by. I wondered if it was really necessary to send out traditional birth announcement cards, considering most everyone on my mailing list was a Facebook friend and had seen Owen’s photos already.
Now as I watch Eve play on her toy computer, operate the real CD player in the living room, and figure out how to work her Dad’s iPod, I can only imagine what she’ll carry in her pocket 20 years from now. Or how Owen will let us know about the birth of a grandchild. A hologram, perhaps?
And I’m still figuring out how to Skype …