Who says I don't need an iphone?

Ok, this isn't a debate about droid (sucks!) vs. iphone (heaven!).  Really, it's not.  I just had one of those days when I realized this handy little iphone that I couldn't have cared less about four years ago knocked at least three hours off my schedule of running errands and put a big check in my productivity column.

What I accomplished today:

• Added and calculated amounts for something I needed to buy for Girl Scouts, and I used my iphone because the THREE calculators in this house are, of course, all missing.
• Received the email saying what I needed to pick up was in at the Girl Scout office, even though I was on my way out the door to drop of the boy at his library volunteering.
• Able to check hours of operation for destination.
• Found directions to drop off paperwork for the boy's summer Boy Scout camp, even though the subdivision in question is notoriously convoluted AND the house number was entirely missing (not good planning on home owner/Boy Scout volunteer's part, but not part of this post).
• Received a call from my job on money that was not included in my last pay, leading into. . .
• I was able to save the number, since it was her direct extension, which is never given out.
• Able to use voice recognition so I didn't have to look up a colleague's number who is also teaching this summer to tell her to look up her status after talking to gal above.
• Having my whole address book and not having to look stuff up is about the best thing ever, as I'm not one to remember numbers at ALL.
• While I was at GS council, in an area with cheaper gas, I was able to find the closest and cheapest using the Gas Buddy app.
• Received text from boy to pick him up.
• Was able to text boy when he wasn't in front to move. his. behind.

I swear, that right there was a morning, not a whole day.  This part of technology, I love.

The Change is happening.

I'm the parent of a tween.  It's official.  I know this happened in April, when my boy turned 12, but the fact hit home lately when our town had its local carnival a couple weekends ago.  It has been for at least the last five years that the kids and I walked in the parade with different organizations we're part of, and Hubbster would drive the car to the end, where there was a carnival for the kids.  We'd buy the "all day" or as I call them "ride til you puke" wristbands, and the kids would ride the rides while we people watched.  The day would be capped off with carnival food (there is something about carnival corn dogs that makes me just crazy!).

This year, Brownie was all up for business as usual.  Cubby wanted no part.  He got his wristband, asked for a few bucks, told me he had phone in hand, and asked if he could go off and find "friends" to hang with.  Yep, I was left holding stuff, watching Brownie ride things that would have induced a migraine in me.  AND they got rid of the nice ferris wheel we usually did together.  Plus, Hubbster had to be someplace, so it was just me.  AND it was really cold out that day.  I felt abandoned at the carnival.  It stank.

But Cubby sure came running when I texted we were getting something to eat, so he'd better come now or not get anything.  I still got it.  Until he gets a job.

A Job is not a Job

As things get more and more dire with Hubbster's employment situation, we can't help but have discussion of job search related issues enter into our daily conversation. The kids obviously know their dad is out of work, but Brownie hasn't quite grasped that all jobs aren't equal. 

We had a friend of Brownie's over and needed to drop her off at her daycare, which happens to be in a strip mall. Also in the strip mall is a bridal shop with a rather large sign saying "Help Wanted" in the window. Brownie immediately got excited and said "Mom! Mom! They need people! Dad should work THERE!"

It took all I had not to laugh, imagining my hulk of a husband who barely owns dress up clothes of his own giving style advice to young brides.  Although Brownie would want to visit him every day at work. 

In Line at Walmart

Last weekend was a parade in our community that my kids have always walked in with various organizations they are part of.  This year, Cubby marched in the junior high band for the first time (sniff!) and Brownie walked with our Girl Scout service unit.  Only a couple weeks prior to the start of the parade, the person in charge of getting candy to throw at the crowd, water for participants, and badges for the girls had family issues and I stepped up to take care of things.  All this led to my presence in Walmart on a Saturday night with two carts full of candy and bottled water with the slowest checker in the world (that's a WHOLE other post).

As we waited, the kids started to argue, as they will if they are unamused and left to their own devices for longer than two minutes.  Like I said, I had two overflowing carts and was negotiating a peace treaty with hostile parties when I spied an annoyed looking woman in her 20s behind my squabbling kids.  Saturday night, pretty girl in jammie pants and sweatshirt.  Hmm.  I looked in her cart surreptitiously.  Two packages of double chocolate cookies, pint of Ben & Jerry's, biggest bottle of vodka I've ever seen, People magazine, and a large package of feminine hygiene products. 

I smiled to myself and wondered if I should make her suffer behind us for now so she'd be thankful for that time of the month in the long run or let her go ahead of my squabblers and me.  I decided in the interest of all our safety to shoo her ahead.  She smiled, then went back to surly looking, but I'm not judging.  Some days, that's all there is to give.