Through the rose colored lens of my smart phone.

Mood: Alert, for now. Muah ha haaa!!!

Music: Rihanna - Rude Boy

I has to borrow someone's else's smart phone to take a picture of my smart phone. Addicted much?

So the other day I am outside playing water guns and water balloons with the mini Me's. For the record, no one was having as much fun as I was. With every slight whisper of the wind Bear would absolutely freak out that the toys would blow away while Gia stared at the odd shapes of the water balloons, but refused to touch them. I on the other hand was running circles in the driveway trying to get the kids going for a fun game of "Run away from the crazy lady with a water gun" - in order to tire them out so we could have the first ever 100% smooth transition to bed time.

It was in that moment that I stopped running around and quickly picked up my I phone to start capturing the fun that I and thought "Really Brooke? Can't you just have fun with the kids and not have that damn phone in your hand?" I'm constantly either taking pictures, updating my Facebook status, modifying pictures that I've taken recently or eagerly awaiting the world's precious comments about words and photos I've posted. GET A LIFE!!! (I'm screaming at me, not you. Please continue reading. And be sure to post a comment when you are done so I can check it.Wink wink and a Sarah Palin "You Betcha")

I can be in the car, at dinner, bathing the kids, doing arts and crafts, or even watching them on the potty and my tech obsessed self starts snapping photos or taking video. Lucky you reader, I do not post all the photos I take. How many shots of my children in underwear with paint all over them does the world need to see? Hmmm, at least 1 more. Here you go. You're Welcome.

The thing that bugs me the most about all this picture taking and world wide webbing that I do is that I'm not really PRESENT in what's going on. I am watching through the eyes of my smart phone. I am directing my kids where to stand or even altering images through Instagram to appear cooler than they are. I am taking the silly moments with my munchkins and making them into odd awkward kiddos once that record light comes on. Why would I do that? Bear, my son, is even going through a Posh Spice (yes, Spice Girls will be mentioned on every blog I post) phase where he refuses to smile at cameras.

Sorry Baby. Mommy can't help you right now. I have to post this picture to Facebook.

I've put my need to be a less than mediocore photographer ahead of the needs of my children. There have been many moments that I watch, camera in hand, as Bear literally tortures Gia. She gazes at me with this look in her eyes and pleads in the cutest babble for me to rescue her. Hold on baby girl. Let Mama get this pic. Who does that? Me. That's who.

I'm ashamed and at the same time not ready to change. Argh! Me and pirates, both angry and in bandanas.

And don't let me get started on Twitter. Why do I have an account? I rarely use it and I actually don't know how to. The tweets and retweets are way over my head. Hey. High School Musical may be my favorite movie but I still don't know how to work these gadgets and Apps that the tweens swear by.

How about this. I try one whole weekend, no, one day, no, an hour....How about this? When I pick my kids up from daycare today I leave my phone in my messy ass purse for the duration of the whole ride home. ONLY retrieving it to receive phone calls. 

I will let you know how it goes via Facebook, twitter, Instagram, this blog and Skype. Til then, enjoy the G rated song for today, I Want You Back by the Jackson 5. And by 'I' I mean Me. And by 'You' I mean my life before smart phone.

So it begins, after I brew another cup of coffee. Hold on a sec.

Alright, let's get her started. I have been wanting to start, and follow through, with a blog for many months now. So here I go.  A few things you should know for starters, I will start each note with a mood and music choice. Just to let you know what's going on in my kooky head at the time of my typing.

For today: Mood is WAHHH, BLAH, and did I say WAHHH? Music is Kelis, Bossy featuring Too Short.

Let's set some ground rules. Okay, I actually don't have any of those.

A bit about myself, I am a 31 year old wife and mom living in Grayson, GA. For those of you who have never heard of Grayson, join the other millions and gajillions in the world who haven't either. It's a tiny somewhat country-ish suburb on the outskirts of some of the more popular suburbs on the outside of ATL. Spell check doesn't even recognize the word Grayson! Yeah, hahaha. I live in one of those cities I use to make fun of allllllll the time. I would dog people cause they were from nobody land outside of Cleveland and that's where I live now. Ahhhh.

My kids are two little brown biscuits that I just wanna bite bite bite. Bear is 3. Gia is, in simple terms, 1 1/2.

Now that I'm a mom I have accomplished making many stereotypes true. My butt has zero shape, I wear comfy clothes that resemble garbage bags around the house, I eat dinner by 5 pm, and I've been wearing the same shoes since 2008. And I love my life. Sure I could use some new shoes and bras that fit my fat flap jack boobies, but the babies need pull ups, jean shorts, hair bows and fruit snacks. So I guess I can wait.

Here are the shoes I am wearing today. An in-law bought them for me three years ago. I would have never picked them out myself but I haven't bought anything else. Gia loathes them. Whenever I try to wear them, she has a fit and attempts to select something that actually matches what I'm wearing. Nuff said

So Kelis was getting a little out of hand for the office so we are gonna switch over to something G rated, story of my life, with the Spice Girls! And in their honor, I am typing with a British accent now.

I work part time as a Bookkeeper for an Air Taxi Service. It's pretty cool. Small company, a bunch of young guys. I am literally like one of the oldest people here. That's new to me. I'm the only female. That sucks when I need a tampon, but besides that, it's pretty cool. There is sort of a frat house mentality here. Not that they are dropping ruffies in my drinks and tossin pig skins about (brief switch to Canadian accent), but they are playing basketball with a hoop that hangs on a door, drinking an endless supply of Diet Mountain Dew and not knowing when Mother's Day is.

I'm not quite sure where I'm headed with this morning's rant so I might back out before I say something stupid like I think I'm getting my period.

Oh! One more thing. Me and Ken, the man I am married to, went to see Aziz Ansari last night. A-mah-zing! I felt like a grown as woman. I was totally stressed as me and Ken were both trying to follow different GPS programs on our smart phones. I don't think anyone was actually driving. Downtown parking was a nightmare and we didn't have any cash. You can tell I never go out. Once we finally parked and got seated, the show started late, which is right on time for us. Aziz was like a little Indian firecracker that I just wanted to put in my pocket but I can't cause he's so damn explosive. He joked about parents and married people and I laugh/cried because he was right on. Married women, at least this one, are squishy; my words not his.

Pause: Coworker just insisted I eat the other half of his chocolate danish. Loving my job.

And with that, I dine and ditch, with British accent.