Dear Kid,

I was a slug on Sunday.

In the past, I would have just assumed I was a slug. Now I have proof positive.

My Fitbit (which I love) made it perfectly clear. It seems I pretty much forgot to move the entire day.

Just to be clear, I was wearing my Fitbit. The entire day. So no way to blame it on forgetting to put it on.

By the time I got to work on Monday, I had more steps than I did the entire day on Sunday.

Then again, our dust dragons took more steps than I did on Sunday. Han Solo took more steps while he was frozen in Carbonite. Our couch took more steps than I did.

BF (Before Fitbit) I would only have been able to guess at the extent of my slugfest. Now I had specific and explicit data to document my slothfulness.

So I had a long conversation with my Fitbit. Fitbit explained (rather succinctly) that slug-ness every now and then wasn’t a bad thing. But please not to make a habit of it.

We didn’t get around to defining “habit.”

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Most of my friends are a little crazy. Generally they are crazy in a good sort of way, so we have reciprocal wackiness.

You know, just a little on the What? side of things.

But every now and then, one of them will cross over into true Have You Lost Your Mind?

One of my friends went to Are You Insane Land this weekend.

A while ago, she tried to get me to participate in a 5K with her. Since I was pretty sure the “K” didn’t stand for kayaking or knitting, I decided to pass lest the K stand for “killing me, here.”

Yesterday, this same friend sent me the following message—on my beloved Fitbit: “Contemplating Half Pig on May 1. Interested in the challenge?”

To be clear, she did not mean eating half a pig, but rather participating in the Flying Pig Half Marathon which is like a marathon only the ambulances are closer to the starting line.

Of course I was interested. Interested in how she thought that someone who walks about 5 miles (total) on a REALLY active day might be able to perambulate that far. All at once. Without falling so far behind that the race ended days before I get to the finish line.

My response to her—not on my beloved Fitbit since I don’t want to offend it: “When did they start allowing bicycles in the Pig?”

So far no response. But to be fair, I only sent the message a few minutes from now. (Yes, you read that correctly.)

I’ll keep you posted.

From the comfort of my 10,000 steps per day goal.

Love, Mom

P.S. Who did you share DearKidLoveMom.com with today? Well, what are you waiting for?

Dear Kid,

Have I told you how much I love my Fitbit?

Not only is it purple (win!), and data-ful (win!), and mine (win! win!), it has encouraged me to make some small but important changes in my life.

For example, I now go to either the first or third floor to use the restroom (I work on the 2^nd floor). Not only does this give me all those lovely extra steps (win!), I get an extra flight of stairs (win! win!) each time I have to pee.

Between my bladder (tiny) and my coffee habit (large), this has added an extra 1,000 steps a day to my step count which amounts to (exactly) 11.5 calories.

If I had taken the same amount of time to sit, Jabba-the-Hutt-like, I would only have burned 10.2 calories, so you can see how this is changing my waistline dramatically.

Not only am I bounding (gazelle-like) up the stairs, I’ve taken to walking through this door rather than that door on my way to the restroom. By taking this door, I add 27 steps (win!) and I walk right by the candy bowl (it would be rude not to help myself to a piece [or two] as I walk by).

So by becoming more fit I have gained 6 pounds, worn out three pairs of shoes, and developed a small but insistent blister on my left foot.

You might think I blame my Fitbit. But I don’t. Not at all.

Because it’s purple (win!).

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

I am now officially a member of the Fitbit world.

Since I am new to Fitbit-ness, I am still trying to figure out how it works.

And I have a LOT of questions.

Like:

How does the Fitbit calculate calories burned when snuggling the Puppy? It can take a lot of energy to absorb all that love. Does Fitbit know that?

Can a Fitbit account for the difference between calories (and by “calories” I mean “chocolate”) eaten in annoyance versus calories eaten for pleasure versus calories eaten for sustenance? Clearly, they are not all the same, but I don’t know if Fitbit is tracking my consumption correctly.

Does my Fitbit measure running on a treadmill, running on the track, and running late at the same rate?

Is there a different formula for walking in sneakers versus walking in 4 inch stilettos? There should be. Especially if the stilettos have scrunchy toes.

How does a Fitbit know if I’m biking? My arms aren’t moving (usually) and my feet are just going round and round. Do I still get credit?

How does the Fitbit measure the impact of the crazy, sadistic physical therapy exercises? (And by “exercises” I mean whatever gadget they choose to use to shove my leg muscles around.) I would assume there is a lot of energy being burned there, what with all the screaming (mine) and yelling (also mine).

What about pushups or leg curls? How do I tell my Fitbit to count that kind of exercise?

Or gum chewing? How does the Fitbit account for the incredible number of calories I burn chomping on Trident?

And thinking. Thinking burns a lot of, well, a lot of something. For instance, how does the Fitbit tell the difference between sitting and watching bad reality TV (no effort) and sitting and contemplating bad reality TV (a great deal of effort)?

These are important questions. I hope someone has correspondingly important answers.

Love, Mom