Dear Kid,

I’ve finally figured out the problem with Life, the Universe, and Everything (extra points if you get the reference).

The problem is that the Way I Want the World To Be is not (unfortunately) the Way the World Is.

Which is sad.

For example, the Way I Want the World To Be is I can eat as much chocolate as I want and still lose weight. The Way the World Actually Is is that my scale says, “Bwah ha hahahahahaha. Ha.”

The Way I Want the World to Be is elves show up to clean the house. The Way the World Actually Is is the dust dragons say “Mwahhhhhahhahahaha.”

There is the distinct possibility that the chocolate and the elves have both been eaten by the dust dragons.

The Way I Want the World to Be is people taking care of their animals in a safe and loving way. The Way the World Actually Is is Rescue Shelters.

The Way I Want the World to Be is me sleeping half an hour later than usual because I have everything ready and I don’t have any early meetings. The Way the World Actually Is is me up at 4:45am because Awake Happened.

The Way I Want the World to Be is I’m Queen of the World (or at least my own little part of it). The Way the World Actually Is is that I’m Queen of the World (at least my own little—very little—part of it). Well, more like I’m Queen of my car when I’m the only one in it.

I’ll take what I can get. At least until the rest of the world catches up.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

You might think it is a simple matter to remove nail polish. A task that can be accomplished in a mere minute or two.

As accurate as that thought might be, it is also (and simultaneously) dead wrong.

Here is how it actually works.

Day 1

Look at nails. Be pleasantly surprised that the polish is still in reasonably good shape and since it’s a neutral taupe you can go another day.

Day 2

Determine it’s time to remove nail polish, but you’re too tired and tomorrow will be soon enough.

Day 3

Decide it REALLY is time to remove nail polish. Get distracted by reruns of NCIS. Start texting friends to find out what reruns they are watching. Remind yourself that Tomorrow Is Another Day. Search Google to find out what year that film was made (1951) and realize it wasn’t the movie you were thinking of after all.

Day 4

Get serious about removing nail polish. Search for cotton balls. Eventually concede that there aren’t any in the house. Realize there is just about Nothing In the World that could persuade you to go out to the grocery store at 10:30 at night just to get cotton balls. Convince yourself that it’s too late to paint your nails and naked nails would be embarrassing.

Day 5

Stop at Walgreens for cotton balls. Feel victorious when you check out having only bought 6 items. Place all 6 items in the car—and go back into Walgreens for the cotton balls you forgot the first time around. Hide your fingernails while you pay since they are in a state of embarrassing chipped-ness.

Review a term paper, answer three texts, and write a blog. Go downstairs to the kitchen to find the nail polish remover because you live with a teenage girl and Duh.

Go back downstairs because you left the cotton balls sitting on the dryer because life.

Remove nail polish.

Realize your nails are in terrible shape and you really shouldn’t have waited this long.

Now I have to go find some polish. But that’s another story for another day.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Every now and then the Universe pops up and hands me a little present. I am always careful to say “Thank you” most politely because that’s what one does when the Universe goes out of its way to be kind.

A few years ago, the gift was when doctors decided that wine has important health benefits and therefore a cup full of vino is the medicine going down. Yippee and Thank You.

Then the medical profession decided that coffee has heart benefits. This has nothing to do with actual benefits (I’m sure it’s just great marketing from the coffee cartel) but what do I care whether it’s real or not? The docs say “Drink coffee,” I say make it a strong one. And Thank You.

The best part is that I never intended to change my behavior (Coffee’s not good for me? Unfortunate. I’ll still drink the same amount.). But having the Universe’s blessing for my behavior makes me feel loved and special and much less guilty.

Now, once again, the Universe has handed out a completely unexpected present. This one may be the silliest one ever, but since it is a Proven Scientific and Medical Fact, who am I to argue?

The Universe has declared that it is unhealthy to make your bed every morning.

Didn’t see that one coming, did you?

This, of course, proves that I am The Most Knowing of All Mothers You’ve Ever Had because I only insisted you actually make your bed about twice a year (on the same days I made my bed—namely, when Grandma was visiting). I am so far ahead of my time, it’s crazy.

You do not need to point out that “ahead of my time” and “lazy” in this case refer to the same thing.

I don’t particularly care for bed-making. I find it is a great way to break my nails and all I do is mess it up a pretty bed all over again. It’s a thankless job (in my opinion) so I skip it on a regular basis (and by “regular basis” I mean “daily”). It’s perfectly fine with me if someone else makes the bed; in fact, I like climbing in to a freshly made bed. I just don’t like it enough to do the actual bed-making in the first place.

There are people who do like making the bed (or who think they do since the habit is so ingrained). To them I say “Have at it” just don’t ask me to do the same thing. And now the Universe says we have a Good Excuse not to make the bed.

The reason making your bed is unhealthy is dust mites. Dust mites are the invisible creatures who live in our linens and chow down on the billions of skin cells we shed. The dust mites poop invisible mite poop and we sneeze. Not good for the allergy-affiliated among us. (In a scientifically significant oversight, it turns out that dust mites and dust dragons are not related.)

It turns out that dust mites prefer nice moist skin cells. The kind that get tucked in every morning when someone makes the bed. They are much less excited about eating dried up skin cells (the kind that dry out every day when you don’t make the bed).

So now you have a scientific reason for not making the bed. And sneezing is once again entirely up to you.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

If you drop an egg, you wouldn’t throw the other 11 on the floor, would you?

Don’t let one slip up ruin your entire day.

And you wouldn’t let it prevent you from making an omelet.

Of course not.

You’d clean up the floor, add eggs to the grocery list, and make a great breakfast.

All too often however, I hear people say things like “I forgot to do “x”–the whole day is ruined.” Or “I ate a donut at breakfast, there’s no point in eating healthy the rest of the day.” Or “I didn’t make that phone call yesterday, so there’s no point in ….”

Wrong answer.

There are things in life that can’t be fixed, but not many. Making sure you have the right point of view is critical to moving on.

It’s pretty hard to put an egg back together or to use it to cook with after it’s landed with a splat on the floor (especially if the puppy gets there quickly). So if the goal is to hold that one, perfect egg, you’re in trouble.

But if the goal is to make breakfast, it’s pretty easy to come up with a zillion alternatives.

Find a way to reframe the problem so you really get what you want. I wise child of mine recently said, “You have to deal with the hand you’re dealt.” (Remind me to talk about gambling.)

Deal with the hand you’re dealt, make sure you know what you really want and don’t get caught up in the minutia, and thank you for cleaning up the mess on the floor.

Love, Mom

Thanks to SparkPeople for the inspiration!