Today's plan was supposed to be a walk on the Downs, a stroll around Ditchling and then lunch at 'The Bull'. I feel like I am dating my son. As it happened, the weather was not a patch on the sunny gorgeousness of yesterday. I feared the boy and I may blow away (in the manner of the house on 'Up'), if we were to venture up to Ditchling Beacon.
The consolation prize was a rather dull meander up to Fiveways, to post a card, book a hair appointment and generally stop and stare at buses/trucks/signs/grids. It wasn't a really lengthy walk, but it's quite hilly where we live, and we had left the house sans pushchair. I did therefore have to carry an increasingly heavy Dexter for part of the way.
Upon returning home and packing away a hefty portion of spag bol, the boy retired to his boudoir and conked out for over three hours, only getting up because I woke him.
During that time, I lazed, read, browsed the Internet, and went a little Instagram crazy.
I'm a relative newcomer to the soft-focus, flatteringly lit, 'look at how great my life is', world of Instagram - but I love it! As a social networking junkie (Facebook, Twitter and Blogspot are my friends but Pinterest confuses me), I wholeheartedly embrace this clever little app which allows you to journal every nook and cranny of your life in photographic form. Now, people are lying if they don't admit to doing a teeny bit of showing off on Instagram: it has the ability to make your latest haircut/outfit/magazine/pet/child/breakfast/grey hair look totally seductive and covetous. I myself am guilty of 'setting up' shots and feeling like a pro when I select the soft focus feature, to capture an otherwise banal moment in my day. I have to also add at this point that I did buck this particular trend a few weeks ago by documenting the gunkiness of my conjunctivitis-riddled eye in all its glory - sorry Hannah - but by and large, I genuinely believe Instagram to be a healthy way to live in the moment and appreciate the every day.
I'm naturally quite materialistic. I like nice stuff - always have done - and I get a bit sulky that my budget doesn't quite match my aesthetic aspirations. I've started to use Instagram to frame my surroundings in a way that makes me appreciate what I've got. So, while the boy recovered from what amounted to a walk to the local shop, I was furiously snapping his room (which is my favourite room in the house), his tiny sleeping body, and even his bath being run.
I guess in the spirit of this blog, all these new-fangled apps and websites, allow us to document the present which I believe is such a wonderful archive to be able to hand down to our children. I've always been fascinated by photos; I've got bags and bags of them in the loft. I love nothing more than a visual nostalgia trip. I think Dexter will be really privileged to be given such a record of his life, his 'moment' in a technological age - albeit one that is recorded in the faux sepia tones of 1977!
Disclaimer: I'm also incredibly nosey and a complete interiors perv. Instagram satisfies both vices.