The combination of sending an SMS text and motherhood is as tricky as mixing cranky toddlers and shark week. It’s probably not going to turn out well for anyone involved. Motherhood is a complex house of cards built on trust and kept in tact by out of this world organizational skills and having a keen sense of direction and the ability to remember what you are doing are a bonus. I, however, do not posses the ability to remember what I am doing nor have I ever been organized enough to keep track of my text messages. I’m pretty skilled at keeping track of little people but my texting gets a little lost in the shuffle. I should have an editor for my texts and completely forget about the send SMS Now function. I’ve gotten lucky many times over the years and even though the mommy brain is a stage four, the five year old has a memory like an elephant. But even then sometimes I get my Mommy wires confused when trying to do too many things at one time.
One daughter’s overtired & crying for a snack while the other one is heavy lidded asking to stay up for just one more hour, I’m trying to do the dishes and remember what time we have to be at the doctor on Tuesday. Or is it Wednesday? Text messaging to double check everything with the Big Guy. “Damn, where are my keys?” is the next SMS text. How am I supposed to get the girls to the doctor when I can’t even find my damn keys? Then it happens.
My mind is someplace else, kids are out of control, and obligation and responsibility are breathing down my neck.
We’ve finally sold our house and found another home. Contracts are being emailed back and forth, offers are being rewritten via SMS text and I really want this house. I really want a home again for the girls and I really want to get out of my in laws house. It’s been a long year.
Amongst all the chaos I had the bright idea that it would be flirty and cute to send my husband the following SMS text, “If you get me this house, I’ll owe you a blow job!” Funny right? Funny because I know that is just the incentive he needs to get me this house. He doesn’t respond. I think to myself, that’s rude. It’s late. I’m tired and decide to doze off to sleep when I realize, that moment of sheer horror, that I sent the text not to the Big Guy but to your 75-year-old realtor, who’s a woman. I guess it could have been worse, I could have texted her one of those compromising photos I used to send when he was living 3 states away for that year. Of course, that might have killed her h ad she actually figured out what she was looking at.
Mortified doesn’t even come close to how I felt. I think it is no coincidence that in her next communication to me, she felt the need to clarify payment with me would be the standard fees. I guess there will be no funny business in these dealings. Also, I will not text ever again without FIRST checking the name of the recipient just as I no longer talk after I hang up the cell phone, unless I’ve double checked at least twice that it is actually hung up. That’s just one more embarrassing situation that I’ll tell you about sometime; maybe in 20 years when all the shame and humiliation of the incident has worn off.
Have you ever accidentally texted the wrong person a private message? Or sent a compromising photo to the wrong recipient via text or email? Please share your stories. I’d love to know I’m not the only one sending rogue SMS text to unsuspecting recipients.