So, when we travel, Andy and I usually bring our baby monitor with us. Seems a little excessive, perhaps, but it gives us ultimate freedom to go out and sit on a patio, or retire to the basement for a movie, etc, after the baby’s gone down for the night.

On our trip to Illinois this past weekend, we forgot our baby monitor, much to our chagrin. We contemplated buying a cheap one at Walmart, but a “cheap” one was $30. Not worth the expense, in our collective opinion, given we could probably just get by listening for the baby.

Come Sunday night, however, we all wanted to watch a movie. In the basement. I hemmed and hawed, but decided I’d probably be able to hear Graham if he cried.

As we started to get the DVD cued up, I progressively got more nervous. So, I did what any neurotic mother with a monthly data package would do… I dug out my iPhone and hit up the App Store. You see, I’d suddenly remembered that I’d seen an app that would be perfect for this very occasion. So I typed a couple of words into the search function and, within seconds, I found what I needed.

And that, folks, is when I was formally introduced to the BabyPhone. BabyPhone is an app that, when activated, is a sound-activated baby monitor. Wondering how it works? Easy. You turn on the app, set it next to the crib, and – if the baby wakes up and starts fussing – your phone places an outbound call to the number of your choice. That, of course, means that you have to have another phone in your vicinity, but, in our case, we just had it call the house phone.

That night we were able to put my iPhone next to the crib two floors away and know that Graham would drop us a line if he woke up!

It begs the question: How did people raise babies before iPhones?

Superbowl with the Superfans and The Economy Strikes Back!

Sunday afternoon Andy and I upheld one of our favorite traditions of the year: watching our first and last NFL game of the season. Yes, folks, the Superbowl. Brian and Michelle hosted their third annual Superbowl Party, and we had an absolute blast. Those two have figured out how to keep two avid sports non-fans engaged throughout a four-hour game, not an easy task. Placing bets on how long the national anthem will be (as an example) is just one of the many, many ways they kept their guests entertained. Good times were had by all.

Then, of course, my bubble was totally burst by Jodi (way to go, Jodes), when she emailed to let us all know that the buying divisions for Macy’s (a.k.a. her former job and allllll her former co-workers) were eliminated and consolidated to one central buying office in NYC. I don’t know about you, but the economy just makes me want to throw things. Jodi works in a different capacity now, which is funded through her vendors (I’m trying hard to understand what that exactly means, but I DO understand the concept – I promise), so she’s unsure of what exactly this Macy’s massacre means for her.

Next time you’re in the Macy’s handbag department, have a moment of silence please.

Economy Crisis, Code: Black

My morning radio DJs have been fired. This is terrible. Yes, we know that terrestrial radio suffers. Yes, they were whiney and annoying. But I value routine, darnit, and this is going to throw me for a complete loop.

You know what I liked best? I like that my DJ would tell me to “hang on” for 15 seconds, and they’d be back with the traffic/weather/celebrity gossip/music. Sitting through a laser hair removal or lasik eye surgery commercial seemed do-able when expectations have been set prior-to.

Granted, the unemployment rate is its highest since the 1940’s, and we are in some sort of gargantuan mortgage/healthcare/retirement crisis… but spare the DJs. I mean, they’re basically harmless. I’m pretty sure I was an annoying kid that never stopped talking about topics that no one cared about. My family never kicked me to the curb.

These are black times, indeed. She said, tongue-in-cheek, hoping no one would actually take this post seriously.