I’m still a virgin.

I’m overwhelmed with shit that needs to be plugged in.

And charged.

And updated.

And synched.

And rebooted.

And downloaded.

Or uploaded.

I mean, I’ve had the same phone for almost 2 years now and I still don’t totally know how to use it.

Well not the same actual phone…

The first one I had was thrown out of the window of the car and smashed in the driveway by Number 5 about an hour after I got it.

I dropped the second one into the pool when I was vacuuming it.

The third one also went into the pool, but it was thrown by Number 6.

I dropped the fourth one into the toilet.

If I’m not losing or breaking my phone, I’m searching for the remote, or the home phone, or the DS, or the video camera, or the ipod.

And once I find those things, then I inevitably need to track down the cords to charge them.

Because Number 6 is like a drug-sniffing dog with the cords.

No matter how high, or how hidden they are, he will find them.

And unplug them.

And re-hide them himself.

He is much better at finding really awesome hiding places for all that shit than I am.

While I don’t consider myself to be particularly technologically challenged, I’m having trouble keeping up.

There are too many little things to keep track of.

I don’t even know where my kids are half the time…

How the hell am I supposed to keep track of a tiny little ipod?

So…

I did what any other intelligent person would do when she is feeling completely and totally overwhelmed.

I signed up for Twitter.

I have noooooo idea what the hell I am doing on that shit.

I don’t really understand the @’s and the #’s.

And so far I am following 3 people.

The first is my CCB (cool college babysitter), who, as far as I can see has one tweet.

From 2011.

And the others are Howard Stern and the Stern Show.

His show appears to tweet approximately every 7 seconds.

I don’t know about this…

But I’ve been told numerous times that I really need to have a twitter account for the blog.

So if you want to follow me, I’m @mom_not_average.

I’m just sitting there.

Waiting.

For someone to tweet me.

I hear it’s kind of painful the first couple times, but eventually it stops hurting.

And then, once you get the hang of it, it’s actually even fun.

 

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