Modern Child

The shift of becoming a parent still catches me off guard. You know that sensation you have when you jerk yourself awake because you feel yourself falling in your sleep? This is what it feels like.

The most recent faux-falling episode happened last week when I was sitting in my parents’ T.V. room (formerly my piano room), talking with my father about the real-life events surrounding Argo. Firstly, our conversation reinforced that I am a parent who hasn’t made an effort to see a film in the theater since the kid got too old to sleep through “Mommy-n-Me” viewings.

Secondly, it made me think, “Holy shit! This guy sitting across from me is a grandfather. And if he’s a grandpa, I’m a parent. But I don’t know ANYTHING! I don’t even know what the hell Argo was about.”

I excused myself to go to bed. My childhood bed. The sudden shock about this generation shift was too much for me.

On the whole, I enjoy being an adult child in this modern era. My parents and I text. We message photos. We Skype. We’re friends on Facebook. In this way, they can be more a part of my day-to-day.

The Swedelock and I have often said how nice it would be if his parents learned to text and had cell phones that could accept photos. They’d get lots more little glimpses of the grandkid. We’d be able to ask quick questions like, “What temperature should we reheat that lamb at?” That’s not too much to ask, right? Hey–the reason they finally got rid of their dial up is because I announced I wouldn’t get pregnant until I could e-mail them photos of a grandchild. No joke. I said this, and like two weeks later they had high-speed Internet.

Well, we got our wish. My father-in-law got a texty, photoy phone!

Around the time the new phone was announced, we left the toddler with my parents for some semi-spontaneous nights away. I was so giddy about being alone with my husband that I’d forgotten to send the in-laws a text or a pic of the grandkid. Did they know how to open messages? Send them? Such diagnostics would have to wait.

But our first night away, I get a text from the in-laws. I thought it was really fun seeing my father-in-law pop up on my phone. And then I read the message.

“S. wants to know how your mattress is holding up.”

Yep. I’m on vacation, and now my in-laws can raz me with the push of a button. I asked for it. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s safe to say that being a modern child is a double-edged sword. I think it’s great. It gives me solid ideas of how to be a real parent to my child once he gets his own cell phone.

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