I'm still working on separating my work-self from my mom-self from my adult-self and so on. Most days I struggle with what is appropriate where and when and if I've embarrassed my children or my parents or my husband. I constantly question if I've committed career suicide with my lack of filter. Sheesh, it's exhausting and that's before I've actually done anything most of the time (hey, thanks, anxiety!)
We had a tech conference today that was amazing in a million ways, but one part has me struggling: Marketing ourselves in tomorrow's world. (Hey, it ain't about today: We're past that and the sun hasn't set!) One presenter, who was great in what he is doing, talked about teaching our kids how to market themselves for the world in which they will live and compete for jobs. Wow...how could I market my 10-year old? If he changes by the time he applies for his first job, will they sue me for false advertising?
I am guilty as all get-out when it comes to getting excited about new tech stuff and all the amazing and wonderbar things we can do in classrooms. Sometimes, though, does the excitement and hurrah about the "next" great thing override the moment in which we live? I'm excited about the cool things my kids will be able to do one day while I sit on the couch with glazed eyes and nod my head with no clue as to what they are doing. They will experience the same feeling I had when I tried to show my mom how to use iTunes for the 143,687th time. (Practice makes perfect!) It's part of the changing of the guard, I guess. I just don't know that I want her tweeting my picture with some snarky comment to pay me back for that mullet in Pre-K.
For now, my marketing plan is to be a ninja. I figure since they are trained in the ways of espionage (now I'm singing Charlie Daniels the rest of the day...go youtube it, you know you want to), that would work. I can change my mind each day depending on my particular assignment. I can wear all black so these last 10 pounds won't matter so much. I can carry a large sword to poke anyone brave enough to challenge my designated marketing plan. I seem to think, also, they wear shoes that resemble Toms. That should work for me.
There ya go...BreatheChick Ninja.
We had a tech conference today that was amazing in a million ways, but one part has me struggling: Marketing ourselves in tomorrow's world. (Hey, it ain't about today: We're past that and the sun hasn't set!) One presenter, who was great in what he is doing, talked about teaching our kids how to market themselves for the world in which they will live and compete for jobs. Wow...how could I market my 10-year old? If he changes by the time he applies for his first job, will they sue me for false advertising?
I am guilty as all get-out when it comes to getting excited about new tech stuff and all the amazing and wonderbar things we can do in classrooms. Sometimes, though, does the excitement and hurrah about the "next" great thing override the moment in which we live? I'm excited about the cool things my kids will be able to do one day while I sit on the couch with glazed eyes and nod my head with no clue as to what they are doing. They will experience the same feeling I had when I tried to show my mom how to use iTunes for the 143,687th time. (Practice makes perfect!) It's part of the changing of the guard, I guess. I just don't know that I want her tweeting my picture with some snarky comment to pay me back for that mullet in Pre-K.
For now, my marketing plan is to be a ninja. I figure since they are trained in the ways of espionage (now I'm singing Charlie Daniels the rest of the day...go youtube it, you know you want to), that would work. I can change my mind each day depending on my particular assignment. I can wear all black so these last 10 pounds won't matter so much. I can carry a large sword to poke anyone brave enough to challenge my designated marketing plan. I seem to think, also, they wear shoes that resemble Toms. That should work for me.
There ya go...BreatheChick Ninja.
