A Basque in Boise

Sharing. Not always the best choice.

use-apple-id-for-imessage-syncIsn’t it great how Apple makes it so easy to keep all your shit updated and shared across devices? Sign in with your Apple ID. Have your pics automatically uploaded from your iPhone to the Cloud. Conveniently access them at a later time from any of the other fifteen Apple devices you own.

Wait! Start an iMessage conversation on your iPhone, then finish it on your Mac at work or your iPad at Starbucks. Hell, if you’re super mega cool, you can even do it from your iWatch. BAM!

People always say sharing is good, but I respectfully disagree. Sharing is not always good. In fact, sharing can be REALLY bad.

Synchronization is awesome and groovy if all devices belong to you. But some of us are parents who – for better or for worse (in my case worse) – decided to spoil our kids with iPhones and iPads and then forgot to check the fucking settings on iMessage after upgrading to iOS 9.

Maybe I could blame my oversight on how shitty last week turned out to be (we’ll leave that for another blog that I might never write), or I could be pissed at Apple for making synchronization so damn convenient and automated. All I know is that today, my poor daughter got an unwanted peek into adulthood when she opened in her iPhone a text message intended for me. “You just got what message???”

Holy shit… I don’t think I’ve ever covered the stretch between Sockeye Brewery and the house as fast as I did today. I was afraid someone was gonna stop me and change the tires on my F-1 Jetta.

As a divorced mom with no partner and some needs, I try so hard to keep “Amatxu” and “Henar” separated based on whether I have the kids that week or not. I feel like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I struggle because I feel lonely sometimes. It’s hard to balance being alone and liking it with being alone and missing the touch of a guy. But it is what it is and ultimately, I don’t mind it. I enjoy being “Amatxu” full-time one week, then being “Henar” full-time the next. It’s when both get mixed up that my world shakes a bit.

In the end, what do you do? Parents screw up all the time despite their best efforts to shield their kids from R-rated stuff, whether it’s something they accidentally watched on TV, a conversation you didn’t think they heard, or a text message you thought was private.  You just gotta own it and explain to them, in a manner they understand, that there is a world of adults out there and that “Amatxu” and “Henar” do, sometimes, go hand in hand.

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