Can I call you back in about 16 years?

I cannot even begin to tell you how many hours I spent talking on the phone when I was in high school. And don't even get me started on my home-sick, long-distance-relationship college years. All I know is that it was a lot, and it was fun.

These days it is anything but pleasurable. If I have to talk on the phone, I sort of seize up on the inside, knowing that a whole other level of chaos will ensue around me. (And that's saying something)! I have not found the magic button on the phone (or I would certainly disable it!) that magnetically pulls my children to me as soon as the phone touches my ear, but I know it exists. And I know that every phone has one. The kids can be playing happily in the furthest reaches of the house or even outside--unaware of my very existence--and they will come running (and screaming!) the moment I put the phone to my ear. It happens, without fail. Every. Single. Time. When I'm on the phone, all manor of emergencies break out, food is stolen from the pantry, a million messes are made, there is bleeding and crying and top-of-the-lungs talking, and people needing me NOW!--all taking place, literally, under my feet. And I cannot escape it. These kids are pros, and they will hunt me down, with all their chaos, if I try to hide in my closet or out on the back porch. And this is why I am certain that anyone I have talked to on the phone in the last eight years thinks I am a complete idiot. I cannot form words or coherent sentences. I cannot ask questions, and I certainly can't answer them. All I can think is that I need this phone conversation to end, so I can kill corral the children. But the minute I hang up, the questions start: "Who was that?" "What did she want?" "Why were you talking to him?" Etc. Etc. And then, they all disappear again, back to the happy place they were before I picked up the phone.

So, if you are wondering why I don't call more often (or at all!) or why I haven't returned your call, you now have your answer.  It's not because I don't love you or because I don't value our relationship; it's just that my sanity is precious, and I can't afford to whittle it away with frivolous phone calls. But, I promise, I do want to talk to you and I will get back to you...probably in about 16 years. In the meantime, send me an e-mail or an FB message or comment on my blog. The chaos can't touch cyberspace...yet.