By Gwen Rockwood
When I was a kid, my mother’s phone was mounted on the wall in our kitchen. It was Harvest Gold — a popular color in the ‘70s — and it had a rotary dial and a long, squiggly phone cord that was forever twisting itself into a tangled mess.
She used the phone to call her friends who lived a few blocks away. Or, she’d call my elementary school if I had to miss class. As for work, my mom had an office job across town because home-based business opportunities for women were few and mostly involved Tupperware parties.
Fast forward to today: Mom is now grandmother to my three little kids. If you ask those kids where my phone is, they will likely point to the back pocket of my jeans, which is where I often keep the slim smart phone that practically runs my life these days. My friends from high school have scattered to different parts of the country, but I stay in touch with them via Facebook, Twitter and text messages. If I need to talk to my kids’ teachers, I use the smart phone to send a quick e-mail. I keep my grocery list on the phone, schedule the kids’ play dates with it, and read magazines on it, too, because “there’s an app for that.”
The blistering pace of technology in just one generation has given rise to a whole new breed of mothers we call the iMoms.
To Read complete article, get your copy of July at CitiScapes.com
|
