Dear Kid,

Things I learned in my dreams last night:

1. It is not a good idea to put a leash on a goose to go for a walk.
2. Dream iguanas like pizza.
3. It is possible to walk on the ceiling, but the street signs are confusing.
4. When you read a book backwards, there are generally no secret messages.
5. Dream numbers don’t follow the usual mathematic rules.
6. Yes, those pants do make me look fat.
7. Never believe things an Oreo tells you.
8. Elephants can use their trunks to make marvelous hammocks—if they are in the right mood.
9. Just because it looks like a rabbit, doesn’t necessarily mean it is a rabbit.
10. My guitar playing in DreamWorld isn’t any better than in real life.

My mind is a very weird place to be.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

This morning I woke up waaaay before my alarm thought I needed to.

My typical MO (modus operandi) when I wake up early is to do the only rational thing and close my eyes and go back to sleep. This particular morning, however, my eyes and my brain refused to cooperate with the going-back-to-sleep plan.

Did you know that the plural of modus operandi is modi operandi? Of course you did.

Don’t ask why; I have no idea. It’s not like I went to bed early last night. But there I was: awake. Not bleary eyed where-is-my-coffee awake, but really awake. Brain functioning awake.

While going back to sleep would have been the better option, there is something delicious about really awake before you have to get up and start the day.

Things I thought about while lying in bed wide awake:

This week’s menu. Here’s what I thought: we should have one. (I never actually got around to creating it.)

Today’s blog. Here’s what I thought: I should write one.

My comforter: Here’s what I thought: I love snuggling here knowing I don’t have to get up for an hour or so.

House cleaning. Here’s what I thought: Someone should do that.

Dreams. Here’s what I thought: I can’t remember what I dreamed about.

Clothes. Here’s what I thought: Maybe I should decide what to wear today.

Clocks. Here’s what I thought: Why the heck am I awake?

Sleep. Here’s what I thought: I should probably try to get some.

Reality: Here’s what I thought: Yark! My alarm is set to go off in 10 minutes!

Breakfast: Here’s what I thought: Yum!

Clock. Here’s what I thought: How did it get to be time to leave for work already?

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Today, a poem by Langston Hughes.

Mother to Son

Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
So, boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps.
‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

Langston Hughes

Love, Mom

P.S. Happy Birthday Grandma Lala!

Dear Kid,

There are dreams and then there are dreams.

For example, there’s the dream I had last night where one of Dad’s buddies talked Dad into painting his (Dad’s) face just before a really big really important meeting and Dad looked awful (the paint was semi-permanent) and the two of them made a colossal mess of the kitchen and the living room and I was beyond furious. Beyond beyond furious. There was green paint everywhere. I have no idea what Dad did to make my subconscious so angry but I was shaking pissed off.

Dreams are today’s answers to tomorrow’s questions.  ~Edgar Cayce

There are puppy dreams, but that’s not really what I’m talking about today.

There are the dreams we “dream” when we’re awake. Dreams of the unattainable. Like dreaming of being a huge rock star when you can’t sing a single note on key. Or of being an NBA star when you’re 5’ 2” and have the athleticism of gefilte fish.

There are the dreams we reach for, that we work toward. The dreams of inventing the next great technology. The dreams of finishing a marathon. The dreams of getting that job or fitting into that dress.

Some people would argue that some of these aren’t dreams. They are fantasies or aspirations. To them I say, “Stop arguing and go get your own blog.”

College is a great time for dreaming all kinds of dreams. It’s a great time for thinking about the “what if”. It’s a great time to set crazy high goals (because you can reach them). More importantly, it’s a great time for practicing the work ethic, the drive and determination, to reach those dreams.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll even invent a way to take the green face paint out of the carpet in my dream.

Keep dreaming, kiddo.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

I went to the gym yesterday (no applause necessary). As I was stretching, a ballroom dance class was starting.

All good. Except the song they were playing (at decibel levels no ballroom class should ever have to endure) was “The Rainbow Connection” (Yup, the Muppet song) sung by Karen Carpenter (or a very good impersonator).

You’re not old enough to recognize Karen Carpenter’s name. She was a singer with a very sweet voice. Whoever was singing last night could have given the entire gym diabetes.

Which got me thinking about earworms.

Just so we’re clear, an earworm is a song that gets stuck in your head and (no matter how many eviction notices you serve) refuses to leave.

Earworms are almost never songs you love.

Earworms all had sad childhoods which causes them to act out to get attention.

Earworms always get attention.

One reason people get earworms is that they’ve heard the song recently and/or repeatedly. This is an obvious and boring reason.

Dreams can trigger earworms. I find this enormously interesting, but I can’t figure out how to change the earworm radio station.

Another earworm trigger is stress. Sometimes if you hear a song during a stressful time it will pop up at other stressful times. (This is not necessarily helpful.)

Music is (ahem) a “multi-sensory stimulus.” We not only hear music, we see video or movie clips, we remember where we were and what we were doing when we heard the music, we might even know what the music looks like or how to play it.

Music is also tied to emotion. Play “Brian’s Song” for any of us Of A Certain Age and we’ll spontaneously burst into tears. (This is not necessarily helpful.)

Then there is the evolution thing. As a species, we need to remember things and it was much easier for the Neanderthals to remember all 50 states if they learned the “Fifty Nifty U-nited States” song the way I did in 7^th grade. (Hey, don’t make fun. I can still list all 50 states in alphabetical order.)

To this day, medical students learn “the leg bone is connected to the (uh) knee bone.” When they examine patients, doctors are often singing those songs in their heads. It’s when they sing out loud that you really need to worry.

Hoping you avoid earworms today.

Love, Mom