So I’m looking through the long, loooooong list of awesome breakouts offered at September’s dotMom.
I really want to attend “Parenting the Kids We Have, Not the Kids We Were” with Jen Hatmaker. I’ve also put a check mark beside “Who You Are Is Not Determined By What You Do” with Sami Cone. I can’t resist “One Hot Mama” with Branda Polk. And I can’t wait for worship with Melissa Greene. Loved, loved, loved her in Avalon.
But I’m initially drawn to “Logged On and Tuned Out: A Non-Techie’s Guide to Parenting a Tech-Savvy Generation” with Vicki Courtney. Sign me up; I already know I’m all about going to that breakout.
Because, okay, I’ll admit it publically: (see my head bowed in “shame”) I am one in a (seemingly) minority of women who does not have a smart phone.
There. I said it.
And yes, I know this is 2012 after all, and most people have had smart phones for oh, what, a decade or more?
But I don’t have a smart phone. I have a dumb phone.
And all I can do is make calls and text. I can’t get driving directions. I can’t purchase online. I can’t play music. And you know, I’m pretty okay with that. You can’t miss what you’ve never had. (At least, not much anyway.) And I’m usually with a friend or my husband or my sons who all do have smart phones and can easily access whatever info I need.
Having said that, I also admit that I’ve played the role of martyr a bit in our family’s cell phone history. (I know–seven lashes with a wet noodle for not putting myself first occasionally.) Every time my contract has come up for renewal, I’ve voluntarily acquiesced what would be my upgrade to a smart phone to one grateful college son or another who I really felt more needed the access and security that a smart phone provides.
But those same sons who so gratefully accept the upgrade can turn a bit elitist when it comes to their phone’s capabilities. Like using facts off the Internet to best me in a conversation. Or smiling while talking to me, only the smile is not because I’m such a hilarious conversationalist, but because they’re reacting to something funny on their Facebook page. And I’m pretty sure they text back and forth to each other about my husband and me while we’re all sitting in the same room. What’s the text symbol for an eye roll?
And just last week when I declared that the next cell phone upgrade is gonna be good ol’ Mom’s, my 19-year-old handed me his smart phone and in a funny but slightly condescending tone said, “You better let me have that upgrade. Show me what you can do on my phone; you don’t even know how to take advantage of the new features you’d be getting.”
Yeah right. Only because I’ve never had a phone to learn on. (I think he’d prefer me to remain tech-unsavvy.)
So, Vicki, I’m coming! Save me a seat up front. Because JK aside, I have serious concerns about texting and driving and everything else that touches my sons’ generation through this constantly changing technology. I need to hear what you have to say.
Haven’t reserved your space at dotMom yet? You’d better get going, girl! Use your smart phone and log onto lifeway.com/dotMOM today!
P.S. My current phone contract is eligible for an upgrade this fall!