Maybe I’ll Be an Editor

First off, let me start this post by saying my brother-in-law cost me $24 dollars this year.   Ooo, “brother-in-law” is actually exactly what I mean: as of Saturday, I have a new brother-in-law now that Uncle Brian married my brother-in-law, Bob.  So cool.

Anyways, about that twenty-four dollars… Brian was looking to find some pictures to put up as a slide show for the Friday night pre-wedding party and called us for advice.   He knew he had pictures stored in iCloud, but didn’t see how to get to them.   We compared settings on his phone and mine and I said I wasn’t sure I could help by direct comparison because I’d never turned on iCloud photo storage, thinking I had so many pictures on my laptop that enabling it would bump my storage up to a costly monthly fee.

But I toggled the switch to find out and it turned out that for only two more dollars each month I could have all my pictures stored remotely and have them accessible from my Mac, iPhone and iPad any time I wanted them.   This was a bit of an issue I’d had over time that PhotoStream wasn’t really helping with.   So I clicked the “Agree” or “go ahead and charge me” or whatever it said, button and my devices started dumping pictures to the cloud.

I had been doing workarounds to get pictures to and fro from one device to the other as needed for some time now, but now that everything is cloud-based, when I opened my laptop up tonight to post a naked picture of me here in this blog (don’t skip ahead, it’s coming) the photo was right there in Photos, no transfer necessary.  So thanks, Uncle Brian, that twenty-four dollars is going to be money well-spent in time saved and certainly will make me happy from an organizational standpoint.

Let’s get to the point of this post though, which is my son stealing my phone yesterday morning.   He was suppose to be getting dressed before breakfast.   He was not suppose to be stealing my phone while I tried to get some of the morning pain to abate in a hot bath (which is what I do every morning because it helps).   And he definitely wasn’t suppose to be taking pictures of me while I was in said tub.

I told him, “don’t take pictures of me, modesty!”  “Modesty” is a word my son uses all the time now because he doesn’t want to be seen naked.   Or at least doesn’t until he gets into the bath and then he forgets all about being naked and romps around with his sister in and out of the bath.

So he had my phone and he was doing something.   He got called away to breakfast and handed my phone over, saying, “here, this is the picture I took.”   And it was good.   Modesty, check.  Lighting, check.   Composition, check.   And extra points for black and white.   I told him I was impressed, he took a good picture.

As he left the bathroom he casually said, “when I grow up maybe I’ll be an editor.”   Here’s the shot he took:

The Big Boy Update:  My son got in trouble tonight before bed.   Then he compounded the trouble with backtalk and defiance.   My husband had had enough when he threatened to leave the family, opening the back door to go outside in the near freezing temperature so my husband went out with him, telling him he could sleep on the couch on the porch overnight.   My son cried and complained but he was locked out (for all of two minutes).   When my husband opened the door to talk to him I heard my son, finally relenting, say, “can I at least have a blanket?”

The Tiny Girl Conversation:  My daughter came home today and calmly asked if she could talk to dad in the bedroom.   They were in there for quite some time, quietly talking.   I don’t know what they talked about but apparently I’ll find out soon enough.   Secret planning, I wonder what it’s all about.

Nine Years:  Today was my nine year anniversary with my husband.   We had a day pretty much like we normally do.   We don’t swap gifts or cards.   I like being married to him every day.   I called as I was coming home from dog training class after dinner tonight and asked if there was anything left to eat (I think they were eating leftovers).   He told me there wasn’t anything left, then he said, “I didn’t leave you any dinner, that’s your anniversary present.”   It was so him and so funny I couldn’t help but laugh.   And completely okay by me—I’d find something to eat once I got home and the children were in bed.   He’s a good guy, hell, he puts up with me, maybe he’s a saint.