“Hi, my name is Linda. And I don’t have a smartphone.”

“Hi Linda!”

These words start my imaginary support meeting for those of us who exist outside the social network.

I don’t have a smartphone, I have a stupidphone.

It shouldn’t be surprising. Its not like I have ever been on the cutting edge of technology.

I thought HD was a rap singer. That gig had something to do with A&M. That megabites were what you took when eating a muffaletta. 

On Christmas morning of 2006 my sons rush into the bedroom to breathlessly tell me what Santa brought their cousins. 

“Mom, mom! Austin and Laura got Razrs!”

“Great! Put on your shoes and we will go race them down the street.”

“Razr phones, mom. Not Razor scooters.”

Oh.

Laugh all you want. That Motorola Razr flip phone is what I have now. When people see it its like a trip down memory lane. “Oh, look at that! I remember when I had that phone. My Grandma uses it now.” 

And no, I’m not going to call Barney Rubble with it, thank you very much.

I guess I could upgrade but I am intimidated by phone stores. So much so that my pre-nup states that I don’t have to accompany my husband to the Apple store. Ever. Or Home Depot for that matter.  But recently my curiosity got the best of me and I wandered into the land of blue-shirted Geniuses. IPads, IPods and Phones, oh my! Apple TV, Shuffling Nanos, Freddie Mac books. I fled, hyperventilating all the way to the food court.

My friend Sarah has one of those brand new IPhones that has a mystery woman named Siri talk back to you. I asked her, “Siri, why don’t I have a smart phone?” She answered, “I believe you have answered that Sarah.” 

Okay then.

“Siri, why doesn’t my friend Linda have a smart phone?”

“I found a Luddite meeting fairly close to you.”

Stan Lee says that “With great power comes great responsibility.” If anyone had held their index finger up to him, mouthing ‘just a minute’ as they continued with their phone call during lunch, he would have ammended that to “With great technology comes great rudeness.”

My stupidphone can’t surf the net, so when I’m with you I’m not finding out the Mavs score. 

My stupidphone can’t pull up email, so when I’m with you I’m not aware that I just won the Nigerian lottery. 

My stupidphone can’t use an earpiece, so when I am talking you know that I’m talking to you. 

Only to you. 

Not having a screen 5 inches from my face allows me to see the world going on around me. It also keeps me from getting bumped into, run over or worse. This low-tech  throwback asks you to please make an effort to connect with someone instead of at them. Instead of playing Words With Friends try having words with the friend in front of you.

In Regards to the Boy's Rooms...

... I have a closed door policy.
I just close their door and walk away.

The Santa Situation

I'm proud to say that Prince #1 and 2 believed in Santa longer than the average kid.

When Prince Tim was 10 he fixed me with a hard stare and said, "Mom, are you and Dad Santa?"

"If you believe, you receive my friend!" I shouted with all the merriment of St. Nick.

"Mom. Tell me the truth. You have never lied to me."

To this day I have no idea how I kept a straight face. Never lied to him?!? What a riot!!

"Okay Tim, Santa really is me and Daddy."

He looked like I had just told him there is no Santa. Well, I had and I'm here to say that that deflated look is why we use that phrase. Oh the agony.

He then turned his puppy eyes at me and asked, "Ummm..Easter Bunny?"

"Me and Dad, kiddo."

Now he is clutching at straws.

"Tooth Fairy?"

"Us too."

He took a moment to compose himself. "Okay, Mommy."

"Honey, look at it this way. Now you get to help us play Santa for Matthew and Christopher. And anyway, think of the logistics. Visiting all the kids in the world in 24 hours? Where would he get the raw materials to build toys at the North Pole? And let's not even get started on fitting down the chimney."

With the promise that he would get to stay up late and eat Santa's cookies he joyfully jumped on board.

Prince Matthew is a sly cynic when it comes to such things. He busted my sister laying down the Easter Bunny's jelly bean trail when he was 8, thrusting him into early adulthood. He played along, covering his bases in the off chance that the believe and receive thing was true.

Last year the youngest prince definitely believed in Santa. Christopher said to my sister, "Aunt Marian, I know there is a Santa. There is no way Mom and Dad would have bought me this cool stuff!"

This year Prince Christopher is 10, his Kringle convictions have been put to the test, and he is torn.

I saw a letter to Santa on his desk.

"Dear Santa,

May I please have for Christmas a Buzz Bee Toys Hawk Dart Blaster and the happiness of Jesus to be in everyone's heart.

Love,

Christopher

P.S. Are you real?"

This week I looked up from my computer to see him holding his Christmas present in his hands. Clutching the Lego knock-off army base (1,000 pieces inside!) he looks at me with a sly grin. "What's this Mom? Hmmmmm?"

I honestly don't remember what I said. Probably something along the lines of "What the heck were you doing under the bed in your brother's room? Put that back right now!" I know that was a perfect time to come clean but I just couldn't do it.

This week he told me about the raging Santa/Mom and Dad debate at school. He hedged when I asked him if he wanted to mail his letter. The boy has great doubts. And so do I.

Where is the line between telling your kid the truth about Santa and setting him up to get pounded on the playground because he is naive to still believe? I might want to cling to the idea that he is still a little kid but the price is high. The gifts he discovered are now from his brothers and I get to shop all over again.

I'm sure that the closer we get to the 25th the closer he will get to the truth. It is a bittersweet rite of passage, another step away from kid-dom on the way toward tween-dom.

But I have faith that, Santa or not, his wish will always be for the joy of the season to be in everyone's heart.

Marathon Momma

Fellow Queens,

Today the Dallas Running Club held a half marathon that went down the next block. Prince Christopher and I walked down to cheer.

Embarassing my boys is a full time job and I really outdo myself when cheering on runners. Some of my golden nuggets are, “That’s right baby! You have earned the right to run without a shirt!!” and “Tomorrow you can tell everyone in the break room ‘I earned this donut, slug!’”

Remarkably Christopher wasn’t appalled by my behavior and was quite interested in the race.

While walking back to the castle he says, “Wow Mom, do we know anybody who has ever run a marathon?”

“Uh... hellllllloooo. ME! I ran TWO marathons!”

“Oh. I knew you ran them. I didn’t know you finished.”

Halloween Fright!

Many of you may not know but I am also known as Queen Linda the Royal Cashier at my fav grocery store. Would love to tell you the name but I love my job. Anyway, for the last week or so leading up to Halloween I would say to the little guys, “You know what scares Miss Linda the most?”

“What?”

“You know what makes me shake with fright?”

“What? What?”

“I mean really, really scared. Scarier than your sister!!!!”

“What is it? Tell us!”

They are about to pee in their pants by now.

After a dramatic pause, in my spookiest voice, I moan, “Myyyyy CHECKBOOK! Bwaaaa Haaaa Haaaaaaaaaaa!”

“Huh?”

Mom Uniforms For School Are Designers

From this morning's NYT

This morning's ensemble? Mom jeans from the Gap, my husband's sweatshirt, white socks with Easy Spirit clogs topped with bed head and my glasses for extra flair. "You don't really want to be that mother that slows her car to a slow roll and shoves her kids out, although sometimes I have wanted to do that," says Brooke Shields. Oh, I am so that mom.

The Texas State Fair

Prince #3 turns 10 on Tuesday and wants to go to the fair.

"It is like an earthquake in my body of anticipation," he says.

Thank God I didn't hear that out of Prince 15 year old.