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Text Talk

As a mother there seems to be so many things to keep up with. As a mother of a teen keeping up with technology is the worst. I am what I consider a "cool" Mom. Seriously, I have an Ipod and a cell. Although these days, it is not enough to have just a cell. As a family we have recently moved and needed to buy new cell phones and get on a "family plan." So this is where my new journey begins. We get the "unlimited text" package, now we need to pick out phones. I say free is great, great for all of us. No, that won't fly. My husband and duaghter get a free phone, but not me. They get me what I like to call a "dummy phone" you know, in hopes I too can text. "See Mom, it looks like a phone but you just flip it open and inside is the holy grail... a full keyboard!!" I know, I'm serious. I think to myself; I am grown woman I can do this, I think? This is fun, I admit it. I start sending little notes to people. My husband and I even start sending each other love texts; cute little notes back and forth, fun stuff, right? Then it begins to happen, my daughter Em sends me a text. Help! Has she lost her mind! or have I? "BRB" Nothing more, nothing less. I stand there in the store, motionsless, contemplating just what this means. I've got nothing! Then my phone vibrates as I stare at "BRB." "New text," pops up. "Oh, sorry Mom. That is text talk for be right back." Ok, this trauma continues, and Em, is not the only one. You know the phrase everyone is doing it? Well, everyone's doing it! I guess I didn't get the memo, or I did and couldn't understand it. Over time, I start to learn some of the lingo from my daughter. I even send some myself occasionally. Like, "idk" for "I don't know" I feel so accomplished at times, but mostly I feel woefully incompetent. Then one day, my world changes. Here I am in the dreaded Toys'R'us with my kids. Dying a slow death in the Pokemon isle with my eight year old son. He is making the agonizing decision of a life time. If i can only have one toy; which do I get? I am not Catholic, but this must be Pergatory, seriously. From the distance I hear "Mom, Jessi, come here, come here!" I could pretend it wasn't me, but the Jessi bit is hard to ignore. How many "Mom, Jessi's" could there be. The voice came from my teen who has learned not to yell "Mom" in Toys'R'us. Why you ask, well it's an excuse to escape and run, run towards the voice. Really any voice will do other than the child that we are next to. That child agonizing over that dreadful decision. Ask any mom, you'll see. So being the good mother that I am, I leave my eight year old in the isle alone and seek out my fifteen year old. I quickly scan and see her off near the posters. Really it wasn't the scan I made so much as the laughter that caught my attention. My husband and daughter were at the posters, just cracking up. As I approach, Em was saying, "I am so getting this for, Mom." Now lets recap; I have the "dummy phone," to start with, now it seems there is a poster for those same people. You know, the non-texters. You guessed it, a poster with all (and when I say all, there is a lot) of the text talk on it. Instead of a poster with multiplication facts or the periodic table, this is specifically for dummies, dummies like me. I would be inclined to cave, to give in, but I stand my ground. The truth is, I only stand my gorund for one reason. Where would I hang this in my house? This is what I am secretly comtemplating. Also, between you and me, I just went back and snapped a picture of the poster with my phone. You know, my camera, on my "dummy phone" and yes, I do know how to use the camera!

Roflol

Just Jessi