The Day My Phone Died (Again) & A Weekend Update

"I have a better phone than your mom," laughed one of my children's friends.  

I sheepishly put the old, cracked (again) iPhone in my pocket.  The kid was right, their phone was better.  A tween had a cooler phone than me.  I shouldn't have cared so much, but I'm not going to lie, it stung a little. 

The whole idea of a tween speaking about and to me in such a disrespectful manner in my home is disturbing.  It brought back a whole flood of "why are you being so mean to me?" issues from my own tween-hood.  But this post isn't about asshole tweens.  This post is about phones, or rather life.

I've written about my deep addiction attachment to my iPhone before.  I actually thought I had made progress with some of my attachment issues.  But um, no, not the case.

After I recovered from the mean tween with this meditation chant "I am not my phone, my phone is old, I am not, my phone is broken, I am not, I am not my phone." I'm just kidding I don't meditate.  And that doesn't even sound like a chant, it's more like bad, depressing poetry.  I felt better after I admitted that the tween was just speaking the truth, my phone was old.  Ahhh, acceptance.

Just as the strut was coming back to my step, I dropped my old, cracked phone.  And it died.  As in stopped working completely.  I panicked.  What if people were trying to call me? (Even though nobody calls people anymore right?) What if a life-altering text message was coming through? (To be brutally honest, I don't get too many life-altering messages, ever.) How would I take a picture of the snow melting and share it on Instagram? (I won't make fun of that one, because that is a major big deal when you have been living under many feet of snow for months.)

My anxiety lessened when I remembered that my father had given me one of his old phones when we were visiting at Christmas.  I got the fancy looking new/old iPhone out of the drawer, grabbed Wade and headed to the AT&T store.  I ran in scattered and out of breath, not because of the phone, that's just how I enter a room all the time (seriously).  

"I need your help," I told the young man who looked a tiny bit scared behind the counter.  "My phone died.  And my phone is sort of my life.  I mean, not really, but you know what I mean.  I am sort of addicted and well, uh..."  He's the AT&T guy not my therapist I reminded myself.  "Can you help me?"

"Let's take a look," he replied as he was trained to do.  He told me since I was the only Apple customer he'd met that didn't use iCloud that I'd lost my contacts.  But other than that I was all good.  Then he recommended buying a better case.  

"Oh of course," I agreed.  "What do you have?"

"Well, we have cases but I am not sure if we have any in stock for phones as old as this one," he looked around the store.  

Okay!  I get it universe, I'm waaaay behind in Appleland, with technology.  Little kids have better phones than me.  My father gives me hand-me-down technology.  I am not cool.

"Oh wait, found one," the AT&T guy said, relieved that he didn't have to tell the crazy lady he couldn't help.  "It's Life Proof."

"Yeah, that's what I need and not just for my phone," I said once again silently reminding myself AT&T guy not my therapist.

Once I had the new/old phone in my hands I felt that the world was pretty alright again.  Even though I had no contacts and didn't remember any phone numbers.  

That night (and the whole weekend) my kids had fun with the latest and greatest technology--Siri.  "Where are you from?," Lucy asked.  "What is your back story?"

"Can I play with Siri?," Wade asked like it was a playdate.  Even though I haven't seen the movie, it seems like he's a child version of Joaquin Phoenix's character in Her. 

Good times are here again in the Youngblood household.  Sure we may be a few years behind in Appleland, but as long as we/I have a working phone it's all good.

In other news (a mini Weekend Report):

• Tim came home on Friday night with a set of drawers.  He really hopes they will help me "get organized."  Um, not sure about that, but look how pretty they are!

This is my workspace...complete chaos.
But I thrive in chaos.

• We are saying see ya! to Pretty in Pink/Pepto-Bismol walls.  For Lucy's birthday we told her we would paint her room whatever color she wanted.  Blue, or Cozumel, it is.  

Yes, Lucy inherited my save everything, but don't ever really have a place to put it syndrome.
And mmm-hmmm, I wore pink to the pink funeral.  

• Winter returned with a high of 17 on Sunday.  Waaaa. While it sucks and we are over it, JT and Lucy didn't let it stop us from being outside.

Roller blading like it's springtime.  Woot. Woot. Except you have to wear big puffy coats and hats and gloves, but whatever.

How was your weekend?  Could you live without your iPhone?

Staying Connected

I was at the bus stop waiting for my kids to come home from school.  The sun was shining, it wasn't too hot or too cold.   All the moms were chatting, taking advantage of the last few minutes of uninterrupted opportunities to connect with other adults.

And then it happened.  Like a scene in a movie, everything was in slow motion.  My iPhone slipped out of my hand and slowly started falling toward the sidewalk.  "Nooooooo," I said in a very deep and scary, muffled, slow motion voice.

It hit the cement with a thud and a crunch.  I slowly kneeled down to pick up the phone and turned it over to reveal the shattered screen of my life iPhone.

There were gasps from all the moms who stood in a semicircle facing me.  Some of them had to turn away from the horror. After a minute or two, one of the moms put her hand on my shoulder and said "I am so sorry."

I wanted to throw my hands up in the air and ask God why?  But the bus pulled up and I had to do what we moms do best, push our disappointment deep inside and pretend everything is alright.  And I did until we got home from the bus stop.  Because let's get real, some moms may be good at that, but not me.  I sat down and I cried a little.

I cried because it was one more thing on top of a lot of little things to worry about.  I cried because it's always about money.  I cried because I have a teenager-like addiction to my phone.  

I'll admit to sending this message to my friend.  And yeah, I sound like a teenager.  Whomp, whomp my tattoo dreams are on hold until I can work into my budget.  

I cried because my phone makes me feel less alone, more connected.

Motherhood can make a person feel isolated and a little lonely.  Sure there are opportunities to connect--five minutes at the bus stop, volunteering and play groups.  Unfortunately, I've never been a playgroup kind of mom.  I tend to not be able to talk or interact that much with adults when I am with my kids.  Sometimes it's because I'm having fun actually hanging out with my children and other times it's because I'm too busy making sure my lovely children don't hurt each other or someone else's child or break anything.

So, the phone, it's a big deal.  Some of my dearest friendships have developed on my phone.  I've gotten to know some of my friends better after interacting with them on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.  My phone connects me to my friends and the world outside my house.  Not to mention I can connect this blog and work on my stellar career in social media.

Sure the phone was still working, but for how long?  How long would I be connected?  And what would happen to me if I wasn't connected anymore?  Would I disappear when my phone did? 

This is where the story should take a turn.  This is where I, the crazy iPhone addict making a case for why my disease isn't something sick and twisted, but rather sweet and necessary, have a change of heart.  This is the part where I learn a lesson and discover being unplugged, disconnected from phones and iPads and gadgets is where it's at. This is where I take a walk, breathe in the fresh fall air, look people in the eye and say hello and connect to the real, beautiful world that's been here all along.

But I'm not writing that story.  My story ends like this:
The morning after my phone cracked, I rode my bike through my sweet little town to the iPod/iPhone/iPad fix-it shop.  

I did smile at people and notice the blue sky and leaves turning red, brown and orange.  I got my phone fixed and then I went and I took pictures of the pretty leaves and put them on Instagram, tweeted my gratitude, liked a few Facebook statuses and felt totally, completely connected.

***I want to make sure everyone that reads this knows that I know that a phone cracking isn't a real tragedy.  I want you to know that I know it's just a phone, I really do know that.***

Since I'm totally connected again, come connect with me on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram.  Yeah, I just did that.

Come on, I don't want to be this guy. I mean I had to get my phone fixed.

Impressing People W/Technology (The new Sitterati App)

My iPhone is my window to the world, it's my date book, it's my phone book, it's my social life, it's my emergency plan, it's my entertainment.  I know this isn't big news to anyone.  I am a cliche.  

But every now and then I marvel at this small electronic device that manages my life.   I channel the same 90-year-old lady inside me who can't believe planes can really fly.  It's an amazing world we live in, it really is.

There's An App For That
Lucy's piano teacher, my friend Lisa, told me how she went "birding" with her smartphone.  Even though nature scares me, I was fascinated by the idea of using a phone app that mimicked bird calls.  Lisa was excitedly telling stories about birds (supposedly rare birds that are hard to call) that flew right onto her back porch upon hearing the smartphone's literal tweeting.  That is a pretty cool use of modern technology that even some of the tech haters (and self-proclaimed nature haters, with mantras like "I support it I just don't like it") couldn't find an argument against.  

While my friend is communicating with birds, I found a new app that helps me communicate with my babysitters--the newly launched Sitterati (http://clvr.li/149CIfX).  There are dozens of apps for the bird-watchers out there, but the brilliant folks at Sitterati saw an identified gap in the market when it comes to scheduling and booking sitters.   

This free app for iPhone is not only helping sitters and parents communicate it is pioneering parent-to-sitter mobile payments.  How many times have you been on your way home from an event or a date night and you have no cash to pay the sitter?  I once paid a sitter in loose change I found in my car.  And you know with four kids, even being gone a couple hours cost me a lot of nickels and dimes.  With Sitterati I can pay the sitter with the ease of my phone--no change, no hassle.

They are really cute, wonderful, fabulous, adorable kids, but sometimes (a lot of times) they can be a handful and I need to find just the right sitter.

We've Come A Long Way Baby
Years ago, when my oldest kids were babies I remember looking for sitters and not having much luck.  One day, a friend told me to come into her kitchen.  She took a deep breath and opened a small drawer next to the sink.  "Here, it's time," she told me dramatically.  "You need to see this."

She handed me a stack of papers stapled together.  It was an Excel spreadsheet of babysitters, or more like the Holy Grail of Referred Babysitters in the Area.  This spreadsheet was copied and shared with desperate mom after mom.  The pages were torn and tattered.  There were coffee stains on some of the pages.   Notes filled the columns like "she's studying to be a teacher, loves to help kids with homework" or "available on Saturday nights!" and "has 5 younger siblings so understands chaos."  

I promised to protect the spreadsheet and only share it with the next mother when the time was right.

Well, nine years later we've come along way baby.  All of that information can be stored in the Sitterati app on the marvelous small electronic device that is an iPhone.  Parents can keep sitters organized in one place, create jobs and send to all the sitters at once (rather than individual phone calls or text messages); book sitters and pay right from the app too.

The babysitters also benefit from all this technology.  They get easy access to jobs from parents they know and see all the jobs they're booked for in one location.  Win-win.

The app is easy to use and helps even the most unorganized parent (um, me) feel on top of their game. 

Smartphones are for more than just taking pictures of yourself.  Hey use the word "selfie" when talking to your teenage babysitter to impress her with your knowledge of smartphone slang.

Impressing People With Technology
My first trip to the Apple store a few years ago was a pretty heady experience.  It was like walking into Disney World.  Every character employee smiled and seemed genuinely happy to be there, assisting you on your journey into Apple-mania.  And just like Disney World, I fell in love with everything.  When it was time to check out, the awesome guy in the blue shirt helping us, Dane, thanked us and told us we needed to sign on the dotted line.  

"Do you have a pen?," my husband asked.

"Dude, you don't need a pen," Dane smiled explaining the cyber signature.

My husband and I laughed and looked at each other with the cheesiest "this is soooo coooool" expression on our faces.

Well, folks, the too-cool-for-pens tech awesomeness isn't just for the Apple store anymore.  With an app like Sitterati even your teenage hipster sitter will think you are pretty cutting edge when you tap the screen on your iPhone to pay her.

To learn more about Sitterati click here: http://clvr.li/149CIfX


I was selected for this opportunity as a member of Clever Girls Collective, and the content and opinions expressed here are all my own.