Friday, July 9, 2010

Facebook for Busy Moms

Did you know "Facebook" is now a verb?

The problem is that verbs require I do something. In this case, it requires spontaneous computer access, a somewhat-peaceful environment conducive to virtual conversation, and something to write about. All of these are valid reasons for my fairly inactive Facebook account.

So, I decided that I would try the old-fashioned Post-It style of Facebook. With a bright yellow piece of paper conveniently located on my kitchen counter, I quickly scribbled down what I considered "Facebook-worthy" over the last forty-eight hours.

Here are the results:
  • July 5th, 4 p.m.: Karen Marie Berger was too slow to stop her four-year old from drinking paint brush rinse water. Then, said four-year old exclaimed, "Kool-Aid!" and Karen let herself laugh instead of freaking out.
  • July 5th, 11 p.m.: Karen Marie Berger swore to never again read suspense-filled fiction late into the night while her husband is working a graveyard. The only sheep she counted were the ones with machine guns and night-vision goggles.
  • July 6th, 8:30 a.m.: Karen Marie Berger just did a shoddy job. Considering it was not facial plastic surgery, it might be okay. But if you want to come visit and inconspicuously slide your finger across her mantle, you'll see her mediocre dusting job.
  • July 6th, 11 a.m.: Karen Marie Berger loves MagnaTiles. Especially when they become car garages or horse barns and little ones use their imaginations. "Don't kill me, I'm an orphan," says one horse to another. "I just ran over a 'cut' and I need a new tire," announces Lightning McQueen to his pit crew...
  • July 7th, 6 p.m.: Karen Marie Berger just won the Bad Stewardship Award for Mothers when she threw away a perfectly good pair of Batman underwear, rather than try to wash the disgusting, foul surprise she found inside of them. At her grandparents house. Here's to hoping the trash man comes to their house before they discover where I hid it, in a plastic bag underneath the empty strawberry container.
  • July 7th, 9 p.m.: Karen Marie Berger just killed a s-s-s-scorpion. In her house. With not one peep of noise, just a strangled gasp (mine, not the scorpion's). Proud of myself for being self-preserving while having the wherewithal to not scream and wake up the children.
Aren't you glad I don't Facebook more often? Now that you know the things I consider notable, it's better I just plant them in one blog post and make you suffer it all in one sitting.

What would a Post-It note have on it if you took notes from the last forty-eight hours?

Resting in Him,

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