Texting, Texting, 1, 2, 3

There was a time when my kids used to hang on my every word. Granted, they were toddlers and mostly interested in whether I had snacks or a Band-Aid, but still. Now that they’re teenagers, our main form of communication is texting. And by “communication,” I mean me sending messages into the void and hoping for a response before the next presidential election.

I text things like “Dinner’s ready” and get total silence. I follow up with “Are you alive” and still nothing. But the second I leave the house and forget to tell them where I’m going, my phone lights up like a Christmas tree. “Where are you” “When will you be back” “Do we have any snacks” Suddenly they are expert texters when their snack access is in jeopardy.

And let’s talk about the responses I do get. Nothing says love like a one-word reply. “K.” Or better yet, the thumbs-up emoji. I poured my heart into a three-line message and you hit me with the emoji equivalent of “meh.” But if I dare use the crying-laughing emoji, I’m told that I’m being “cringe” and should “never do that again.”

I once tried to be cool and replied “Bet” to my son. He stared at me like I had just spoken in tongues. Apparently that’s not allowed unless you’re under 25 and wearing sneakers that cost more than my first car.

Still, I keep trying. Because texting is how I sneak little “I love yous” into their day. Even if all I get back is “ok,” I know they read it. Or at least I pretend they did. I may never master teen text lingo, but I will never stop sending those messages. Even if I am left on read. Every. Single. Time.