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,

It’s that kind of a day.

I have no idea what that means either.

Last night I spent time hanging out with Pi and watching Total Divas (bad “reality” TV) rather than writing a blog and this morning I spent time sleeping rather than writing a blog and so now my coffee and I are busy staring at a blank screen. (The Puppy has taken over the sleeping so that is still being attended to.)

But it’s that kind of a day, by which I mean it’s an odd day. It’s too warm to turn on the heat, but too cold not to. At the moment I am cuddled under three blankets with my laptop warming the top of my lap and my coffee warming the inside of my tummy. Nothing is warming my toes and they are complaining about it. I told them about your toes turning purple during your class about what cold does to extremities. They “oohed” politely and pointed out that you are young and resilient and—more importantly—attached to someone else which in no way makes them any warmer. Silly toes.

Pi is off at an event for Crayons to Computers (such a good child working for such a good cause) and Dad is grocery shopping (he’s only called me once from the store so far—well, twice if you count the pocket dial). His soccer games got canceled because it is cold and rainy. Yes, I know you don’t cancel soccer games when it’s cold and rainy, but these people did. At least they had the courtesy to call him before he left the house.

There’s a great deal to be done around the house today. Cooking and baking and cleaning and snuggling the Puppy. Unfortunately, none of those things (except Puppy snuggling) sound as nice and cozy as sipping gulping coffee under my blanket. So it remains to be seen what will get done. I have GOT to get better elves.

Hope your weekend is off to a great start.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

There’s this thing that’s supposed to happen in the middle of the night. It’s called sleep. And it’s eluding me. Apparently that last cup of Starbucks wasn’t exactly the right idea this afternoon.

So I am awake. Awake and unproductive. Because there are things one is not supposed to do in the middle of the night. Those things are: Everything That Isn’t Sleeping.

Theoretically speaking, I could clean up in the kitchen. But not only is that Not Sleeping, it would involve a dangerous (and by “dangerous” I mean loud) chain of events. I’d (sort of) like to clean up the counter. But that would involve cleaning up the sink. And that would be loud. And it would involve emptying the dishwasher. And that would be loud. And it might involve stubbing a toe, and that would most definitely be loud.

By then I’d have a woken up the entire household. Do you know what’s worse than me being awake in the middle of the night? The entire household being awake in the middle of the night. And do you know what’s worse than the entire household being awake in the middle of the night? The entire household being awake and cranky in the middle of the night. And I’m darn sure we’d have cranky people if my cleaning wakes them.

Besides, I have to be up really early.  Why are you keeping me awake, child? Let your cranky mother get some much deserved sleep. The elves can do the dishes later.

There is very little logic in my life at this hour of the day night.

Love, Mom

I just re-read the part about me cleaning. In the middle of the night. I am hilarious.

Don’t forget to share DearKidLoveMom.com. It’s a great way to start your weekend.

Dear Kid,

There are some things in life I understand.

I understand that when you spill coffee on your favorite shirt it is likely to cause a permanent stain. I understand that weekends are often too short and that the Bengals are unlikely to make it to the Super Bowl. I understand that elves are not going to show up to clean our kitchen.

Doesn’t mean I have to like those things, but I understand them.

And then there are things in the world that I simply do not understand.

I don’t understand people who abuse children. I don’t understand people who chop off journalists heads. I don’t understand people who take hostages in the Lindt Chocolat Cafe. I don’t understand people who kill other people because of the color of their skin. I don’t understand people who do crazy violent things in the name of religion (any religion).

On some level I know I’m not supposed to understand these people because they are psychopaths or psycho-bigots or psycho-somethings. Intellectually, I know they’ve been taught to hate and they’ve been taught that Violence Solves All.

Intellectually knowing doesn’t make it easier to understand. And there have been far, far too many scary-violent-unbalanced-disturbed-crazy things happening in our world.

Do I have a solution? Well, no. Perhaps just that we should all try a little harder.

And keep the crazy fighting where it belongs—in congress.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Sunday is an interesting day.

It’s either the first day of the week or the last day of the week depending on how you count these things. For some people it is a day of rest, for some it is a day of work, for some it is a day of football (at least this time of year), and for some it is a day of catching up and cooking.

No century (if you are following the Gregorian calendar) starts on a Sunday. Rosh Hashana never falls on a Sunday.

Today (for me) has turned into a day of grocery shopping (did you know that when you buy $200 worth of groceries you can’t really go through the Express Lane unless the lane you were going to go through is staffed by someone who REALLY wants to go on break?), baking, cooking, soup making, and football watching (although I didn’t turn on the Bengals game in time and missed the safety. Dang!). I am really hoping some elves show up to help clean in the kitchen but so far no sign of them.

You may be wondering where the name Sunday came from. Turns out there are a lot of etymological explanations. Unfortunately, all those explanations involve a LOT of words which I don’t have time to read (what with being the only one home to do any cleaning up in the kitchen).

Who Dey!

Love, Mom