And goodbye, Facebook. For a month. My sister challenged me to 30 days of Facebook-less life and I’m doing it (she’s Instagram-less). I’m a little bit sad, a little bit scared, and a lot of relieved. I’m sad because I really enjoy perusing the newsfeeds, pictures, birth/engagement/other major life event announcements, and, for less-than-noble reasons, the absurd chatter we’re all accustomed to on social media. You’d think I would un-friend some of these who make me baffled-crazy, reading their status updates; but, alas, my inner drama-mama can’t turn away from the controversies. I’m scared because what if I’m invited to the party of the year and the invitation is through Facebook? Or what if someone breaks up or makes up or something similarly earth shattering like change their hair color? And I’m not around to cyber stalk for details? I’m missing so much of other people’s lives!
Above all else, I’m relieved. Because I’m not missing my own life. I’m not addicted to Facebook – really, I’m not. But I’m definitely preoccupied. You can tell by the way I hover around my computer after posting a picture, update or blog post, waiting for the red notifications to come in. I’ll still be hovering over this published post, you can bet on it. Honestly, I don’t even apologize for that. I’m a stay at home mom. We’ve been a one car family for three years now and we like it that way. However, it means that, unless there’s a doctor’s appointment or other need for me to take the car, me and the little ladies are on foot (or, more likely, double stroller) if we want to hit up the park, grocery store or Target (which, conveniently, are all within a mile of our house). So when I say we’re stay at home, we’re reeeeeally stay at home. I need that social feedback – the comments and smiles in the form of “likes” from friends. Obviously, face to face interaction is optimal, but being “liked” in whatever sense of the word you’re into does do something for me. A good something.
So, that’s it. Starting January 6, unless it’s something directly related to business, I’ll be communicating and/or spying only via phone or email or carrier pigeon over the next 30 days. I’m still going to need that social feedback and interaction, but I’m so glad I’ll be eliminating what is my biggest time-waste.
In other news, Matt built Frankie a hutch and just in the nick of time. He had been living in temporary quarters (a big box on our kitchen floor). Turns out, Frankie is a serious escape artist and for three straight mornings, we had to track him down by following the trail of turds. So we wised up and Frankie got moved to the shower for his overnights. Which is equally as disgusting in the mornings, but much easier to clean. Don’t worry, animal lovers, we’re not kicking him out of the house until the present cold snap has passed. Meaning, he’s probably pooping in my shower as we speak.
When we went out to let him hop around the hutch for the first time, Harper actually asked me to go back into the house so she and Frankie could have “some alone time.” When I peeked my head back out the door, she was singing him songs about being in love. Ones that she was making up as she went, of course. She’s the best.