Here I am, just a girl with a flip phone, standing before you and hoping for your understanding. I can already hear your thoughts. Yes, I live close to Lancaster, Pennsylvania. No, I’m not Amish. Interestingly, I know quite a few Anabaptists who might just be cruising in their horse-drawn buggies, on their way to snag the latest Apple Watch.
While it’s true that the Amish prefer to keep their cell phones in the barn instead of their homes, they still manage to have some impressive gadgets. Just picture me on my flip phone, calling an Amish construction service for a project:
Me: Hi, I need to get a shed built in my backyard.
Mr. Miller: Sure! We’re currently busy, but could you text me the shed dimensions?
Me: Um, I’m not really good at texting. Can I email you instead?
Mr. Miller: Email? That’s a bit old-fashioned for us. Maybe my cousin in Ohio still uses it.
I do have some texting capabilities, but let me tell you, pecking out messages like “Whem r u goimg tm be hme?” or “thnx fr te brTHDYm eSSAG!!!%%” is no easy feat. And when my phone chimes with a new text, I can’t help but feel a wave of panic. What if it’s another question that spirals into more confusion? Just typing out an address like “415 East 23rd Street” could send me into a tailspin.
“So, what are you?” you might ask. “Are you some sort of tech-challenged individual?” You probably mean it kindly, but yes, I’m a bit of a doofus—no offense taken.
My love affair with my flip phone began out of sheer necessity—smartphones are pricey! Even if you snag a free smartphone, the plan to keep it running is far from free. With three kids needing phones (they’ll insist a flip phone won’t cut it), I find myself weighing the cost of a smartphone against essentials like heat and running water.
Maybe you have a budget-friendly smartphone plan in mind. I’ll consider it—eventually. But my doofus tendencies don’t end there. I find it overwhelming to keep track of how people reach out to me. Some prefer texting, others leave voicemails, and a few only message through social media. Then there are those who corner me at school events, delivering a deluge of information about fundraising activities. By the time they hit word 24, I’ve mentally checked out, wishing to escape the volunteering trap forever.
I’ve come to embrace my own limitations. “I’m a doofus who forgets things,” I often admit. “Since I’m not Anabaptist, could you please email me that avalanche of information? I promise I’ll read it when I’m not about to have a panic attack.” Most people are understanding (except for that Amish contractor, of course).
Another reason I haven’t upgraded to a smartphone is my annual tradition of accidentally dropping my phone in a creek while hiking or running over it with my car. Sometimes it even flies out of my purse and explodes in a parking lot—it’s always a mess. Thankfully, this is easier to digest when my phone only costs $9.
Despite my outdated tech, I consider myself a screen addict. Having a flip phone means I’m forced to look up, engage with the world around me, and avoid walking into walls—something I’m already quite good at. No need for technology to assist me with that, thank you very much.
For more on navigating parenthood and home insemination, check out this post on at-home insemination kits. It’s a great resource for those exploring their options, and if you’re curious about the ins and outs of intrauterine insemination, this Healthline article is super informative.
In summary, while I may be a technological doofus, my flip phone helps me stay grounded in reality, keep connections simple, and navigate the chaos of motherhood.
Keyphrase: “flip phone mom”
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]