For Mother’s Day, I want the will power to become undistracted.

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Ummmmmmm …..

That moment when I realize that my son has been talking to me for who knows how long and I

haven’t

heard

a

word.

My consciousness is caught,

held hostage

in a little silver box

that pulls my fingers in a mindless dance across its smooth, reflective surface,

and with each touch removes my mind from interaction.

OK….

the question he has asked may be…inane…repetitive

the answer has not changed

since the one-hundred-forty-seventh time

I tried to explain why

Prince Hans had tried to kill Queen Elsa with his sword.

but really…

is the competition for my mind so much more stimulating?

My Face Book scroll of dinner plates prepared by Trader Joes,

or Buzzfeed quizzes – what is my inner animal?

or snarky memes – from either side – that grossly over-simplify opponents’ position and intelligence.

And so I try

force myself

put down the phone

engage

converse

Until, insistent, beckoning vibration

my fingers twitch

my mind leaps

like Pavlov’s dogs,

salivating for DISTRACTION.

Ironic actually,

it started off in longing for CONNECTION.

escape from the cocoon of total motherhood

separated by an ocean from all family and friends

and by a barrier – of both language and culture – from those I saw in daily life.

It used to be a tool to DECREASE isolation.

But then…

but NOW.

A roadside sign flashes in bright rebuke:

DISTRACTED DRIVER

PUT DOWN THE PHONE!

And though my silicon companion sits in placid innocence,

tucked in the nearby cup holder

not in this instant exercising its magnetic pull,

the force is only dormant

’til it pulls attention into slave’s submission.

And I know

the sign applies to more

than just the car-bound portion of my time.

My life,

my presence,

my precious, sought-for attention

Is being guided by a DISTRACTED DRIVER

and

like a texting teen

I am in danger

of crashing.