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?