There is an episode of the Backyardigans in which the characters travel to Mars and find an adorable baby Martian who has been calling Earth on her mom's cell phone. Yeah it's cute. But I would like to say that in real life when you find out that your two year old has been calling a distant place, say another country, it is not nearly so amusing.
A couple of weeks ago I casually looked down at the call record on my cell phone and noticed a number had been called seventeen times. SEVENTEEN TIMES. It was a Santa Barbara number. In fact, it was my friend Linda (whom I really had been meaning to call, since I'm going to be in town soon and all). Closer inspection also revealed that Maria had somehow managed to put Linda on my "Favorites" list (no argument there). This is when I realized: 1. Maria thinks I should be staying in closer touch with Linda. 2. There might be a real problem with letting Maria play with my phone.
I've looked down occasionally over the last few months and noticed that Maria had my phone and was calling someone, sure. This is a natural inadvertent outcome of how well phones are engineered these days. On an iPhone, you just need to hit a name, and boom, you're calling that person.
I must point out that my contacts list of phone numbers is wirelessly synced with Jeff's contacts list and Jeff never, NEVER deletes people from his contacts lists. A quick glance through the contacts stored in my phone right now reveals that we still have numbers for:
1. Businesses that no longer exist.
2. Dead people.
3. People we haven't spoken to in ten years because life is complicated and people grow apart in these troubled times.
4. Parents of people categorized under #2 and #3.
5. People we haven't spoken to in ten years because they went almost incoherently insane when I called them to tell them I was engaged and would they please be one of my bridesmaids. (Okay, that was really just one person, my best friend from high school, but the point is, her number is still in my phone, thanks to Jeff.)
This is a recipe for further disaster is all I'm saying.
Kurt didn't really do this at Maria's age. When he had my phone he earnestly and fruitlessly tried to play the games. Maria has zero interest in phone games. She knows what a phone is for, and she's going to use it.
We're in the final countdown before the move and I'm feeling it. Complicated emotions, bittersweet goodbyes, awkwardness all around. Plus the kids and Jeff got sick. Because why not.
Among the many goodbyes we said this week, we said goodbye to Kim, Kurt's music therapist of all the last year. She introduced him to just about every percussion instrument there is, and he loved all of them. Here he is yesterday snuggling up to a drum.