Why Texting Became this Mom's Lifeline

When I first got on Facebook, my colleagues (all moms) revealed that when they would come home at night, they just couldn’t wait to pour that first glass of wine and hit the website.

As I started to ramp up on social media—ostensibly for work purposes—I found myself increasingly understanding the draw that lured all our teen kids in like the pied piper. 

“Sorry honey, I’m on Facebook,” apparently is legitimate. 

But what really drew me in was the mode of communication most popular with my son and daughter’s group of friends: Texting. I first learned about the power of texting when I began exchanging communication volleys with the rental agent for a condo I sought as a refuge for my son and me after losing our home with the unblending of our family.

A new text came in from the realtor. In the midst of the borderline flirtatious repartee—but still confined to realtor-client exchange and knowing I was dealing with a seemingly straight woman living with her boyfriend—I read: “Did I tell you that I am in love with your soul?” 

Right back at her: “I don’t know, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”  

I switched to unlimited texting, and I saw entire relationship dramas play out over text.

Not only was I appropriating the teen text culture—as my son accused me of—I was also having their tumultuous adolescent-style relationships. Teenagers and perimenopausal moms have a lot in common—the most obvious being overwhelming hormone surges. It’s a scary place to be at times.

Long after the author of those first hundreds of texts was deleted from my contacts, I discovered something: Texting had become my lifeline.

In a world with barely time to breathe—with foreclosures, loan mods, break-ups, homework and an imploding economy—my friends and I depend on our ability to make a connection in the sparse minutes we have for reaching out.

Several of us began a morning texting ritual:

X: Exhausted.

Y: Hell, yes – you up?

X: Heeeeeeelp! Needy friend alert. … So I’m not a total ugly freak who can’t keep a man?

Y: Noooooooo!

X: Dinner WAS really fun last night. And I’m wearing a new French bra.

Y: I just picked up a few sexy numbers at Goodwill!

Sometimes, if we couldn’t make each other laugh, that damn autocorrect did its magic:  

C: Nothing in the fridge but dead puppies.

BK: Well, sounds like protein.

There are helpful hints and updates that we barely have time to type out:

X: I’ve decided to show a little more chest area.

Y:  I do. Doesn’t help.

X: How about if I add a machete? … Match.com: “Seeking: sexy, maternal and can swing a machete!”

Y: But with my extra poundage and mommy butt, things really stick out!

X: You should try for extreme poundage, then join BigAndBeautiful.com—men love it.

Y: Mommybutt.com.

I went to Seattle last Father’s Day, and one of my best single mom friends texted me:

BK: You OK?

Me: At hospital. Not good.

BK: You call?

Me: No, my dad just died.

BK: Oh, I’m so sorry.

Later, no energy for more calls, but like doves carrying notes, the texts fly back and forth:

Me: Feel like I’m going nuts. Can’t handle any more. Hate to say it but I wish T would have been there. ... Can’t even figure out logistics, funeral…summer school…Kaiser…work…time to mourn.

BK: Give it a little time.  It just happened. Your head must be spinning.

Sometimes, with no time or money for therapy, we rely on those texts—someone else is out there:

X: Was doing great then wave of hurt because of D. came over me

Ick wow im OK for now

I have horrible gas tho

hope it clears up soon

K: Oh me too

Y: Getting thru the holidays is soy hard. 

Hang in there, sweetie. Love you.

Family Love 

Texts to and from my step-daughter: Hey! What cha doing?  

From my niece, now a grown young woman with a two-year-old: Aunty Carla, I miss you, love you.

When I most need to laugh, amidst the detailed Subway orders, the “pick me up at this place, at that time” and “buy me this thing for this deal” are the texts from my son when I go away a few days:

G: How was your birthday?

Me: Great, thanks, but missed you!!

G: How’s the hangover? Is there a tiger in your room?

Me: No, but I found a baby in my car.

G: Hahahahahahahahahah!

Technology seems to have enabled the phone to write texts by itself based on getting to know our conversations. I’ll pick up my phone and find an answer already written to a query about my present state-of-mind already answered “crappy” even when I’m not.  

But don’t think that you can replace your friends yet with SIRI. She purports to not understand certain questions like “Which way to the abortion clinic." But she can direct you to adult bookstores. "You are the wind beneath my wings” is her standard reply to “I love you.” And she won’t tell you where your child is.

For many people, texts are impersonal and hard to do with big adult hands and older phones, but many of us single moms rely on it. Whether we are looking for a missing child or texting our love for one another when we feel alone in the world, it works for us.

K: Hang in there—we live your slut toe.  

Damn autocorrect! I’m in love with your soul. …

So are all your friends and family. …

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