I first started using Flickr in October 2005. Several months later, I wished I could upload and share some of the short videos of cuteness that abounded. Now, this is reality (yes, it’s been around on other sites for a while - but I wanted a central media repository). Yesterday Flickr launched the ability to upload small (< 90 second) video clips. The clips appear in your photostream just as photos do, and you can basically perform all the actions on them that you would on photos: tag, set permissions, add to groups, etc. Oh, and apparently this feature is currently only available to "Pro" users ($25/year).
I know this is probably going to be a controversial move within the Flickr community, as many Flickr users are very serious about their photography. I know there have been some vocal opponents of this as it has been kicked around in the community. But for a Flickr user like me, who posts mostly pictures of my kids, dog, travels, etc., this definitely has potential. Since the videos I take are very rarely over 90 seconds, they will fit well in the "story" that my photostream tells.
I also use flickr as an emergency backup of my "best" photos. If my hard drive were ever to die on me, I can rest easy knowing that I have the majority of the photos that I care about loaded onto flickr. I hope that I can do the same with the little videos that I take. My big question is if the file that I upload (60 fps 640x480 AVI) can be downloaded again at some point in the future, or if only a converted, web friendly version will be stored by Flickr. I suppose there's only one way to find out. Here's more of Simon's American Idol training:
Watching American Idol, Kate and I are struck by the parents that are all “MY child has been singing since he was THREE YEARS OLD!” Well take THIS Crazy Hollywood Parents: my boy is 2!
The toy he has in his hand is “Rocket Ship” from the Little Einsteins, a show on the Disney channel that he loves. The song he is singing is the theme from the show. He doesn’t really watch that much TV, but the TiVO up in New York ensured that he got to watch at least one episode with Grandma every day. So by the time Easter Sunday rolled around, he apparently had it down pretty good.
I love going home from work. It’s not because I’m relieved to be away from work, but rather, I get greeted at the door by a dog whose tail is wagging vigorously and a toddler with a big huge grin on his face. To top it off, Kate is usually cooking up something yummy for dinner. I know, I know. It may sound a little like a Cleaver family paradise, but I’m definitely not going to complain. Because really, who has it better than me?
Anyway, the time between when I get home and when Simon goes to bed is often special Daddy-Simon time. He and I play and roughhouse, generally having a good time in the process. Kate has often made comments to the extent of “you guys have so much fun together.” Earlier this week I pointed out that she and Simon have plenty of fun together, too. She agreed, but thinks that it’s a different kind of fun.
I definitely get the pleasure of getting Simon riled up and laughing like a fool. I love being goofy with him: making faces, tickling, playing chase, and roughhousing. And he eats it up. Kate gets more of the quiet moments: story reading (non-bedtime), art projects, long walks with Simon and the dog, etc. When he is upset or hurt, she is definitely the one he wants, not me.
I’m totally okay with this dynamic. I enjoy the quiet moments too, but not as much as the raucous gut-busting laughter that I can induce on occasion. That’s one of the things I’ll want to remember most from being a dad.
For you parents out there, do you seem to have distinct mommy/daddy types of fun as well?
I was initially struck by how small he was in this photo. Although, I don’t think he’s actually grown all THAT much since last July. This was taken at the World War II Memorial in DC.
The long wait until the beginning of the next football season starts now. My father-in-law is thrilled by a Giants win, and is convinced that Simon was the bringer of luck. Because I’m nice, I made an exception for the Super Bowl. But if he thinks that Giant-shirt-wearing during the 2008 season is going to become a habit, think again. I was even nice enough to take a couple of (admittedly really cute) pictures.
Of course the REAL news in the football world has nothing to do with the Super Bowl, the Patriots (aka “Choking Dogs”), or the World Champion New York Giants (you have no idea how difficult that was to type). The real news involves the 2008 class of Hall of Fame inductees. This class will include two Redskins: Darryl Green and Art Monk. Redskins fans are happy that Darryl is in, but we are THRILLED for Art Monk. Monk had been passed over several times, and we were all getting a little nervous that his classy and quiet demeanor actually hurt his chances of getting into the Hall. But never fear, enough Washington area sports writers made his case loudly enough, that the rest of the Hall of Fame voters finally came around.
Monk was my favorite player when I followed the Redskins as a kid. He was always good for a 15 yard out when you needed 14 yards for a first down. And if you were inside the 20 and you didn’t throw a fade to Monk in the back of the end zone, you were a fool. He was the possession receiver the Redskins have so desperately been missing for the past 10-15 years. The guy was a premiere receiver in an age where the NFL was not the pass-first circus that it is now. He was also a class act. There was no taunting in the end zone. No pulling out of cell phones (Joe Horn), donning of pretend Hall of Fame jackets (Chad Johnson), autographing of balls (Terrell Owens), or pretend pulling down of pants (Randy Moss). Monk was a good sport throughout his career and let his play on the field do the talking. There was no better football player to have for a role model than Art Monk. I’m glad that he’s being rewarded for it. Congrats, Art.
Simon is officially in his new room. We converted the guest room to Simon’s new room by setting the mattress of the guest bed on the ground (the box spring and frame have been relegated to the basement), shifting stuff around a bit, and adding these nifty bins from Target for toy storage. The transition from his crib to his new “big boy bed” has actually gone pretty well. And in the mornings, you’d think that he was still confined, as he’d stay in bed and cry until one of us went and got him.
I’ve heard that many kids will stay confined to their beds for a long time as if it were surrounded by an invisible fence. Some kids do this for years, apparently. Not so with Simon. Yesterday we had the pleasure of being awakened by a little boy silently appearing beside Kate’s head. This morning it was worse. 4:30AM and the boy wanders out and wants to crawl into bed with us. Oy. I have a real hard time sleeping with toddler feet in my back, so I ended up in HIS bed while he got to share ours with Kate.
We’re going to have to start setting some limits here, and fast.
I went to take the trash out this evening, and the “1-2″ inches of snow that the forecasters had predicted was at least 2-3 inches high, and coming down harder than it had all day. It was dark out, and very nearly past his bedtime, but I decided I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take Simon out for some fun in the snow.
We tromped around for 10 or 15 minutes, just walking and making snowballs. Well, I would make snowballs, then he would have fun throwing them and watching them break. Once I got Simon to the point where he was plenty cold (yet still a couple stages away from frostbite), we gave up for the evening. We were greeted by Kate with a nice warm mug of hot chocolate for Simon and a couple of doughnut holes as his dessert.
As mundane as it sounds, this will be one of my lasting memories from Simon’s childhood. At least, I think it will. You never do know what will stick in this noggin of mine. Here’s hoping I manage to hold onto this one.
I had this in my voice mail at work the other day, and it is REALLY cute. Well, I’m biased, so I’ll let you be the judge. I realize that unless you live with him, listening to a 2 year old speak is like trying to translate Egyptian, so a transcript is below. You can see that we’re successfully brainwashing him in all of life’s most important aspects.
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