Dear Kid,

Having one of those “Well, duh” moments.

There’s a video making the rounds on the ‘net (you can watch it here if you really want to) that proves that dogs have selective hearing.

Well, duh.

We (and by “we” I mean all cat parents, most dog parents, and many children parents—possibly hippo parents and giraffe parents too but I can’t be sure) see this EVERY STINKIN’ DAY.

Parent: Come here
Cat blinks.

Parent: Come here
Dog continues sniffing.

Parent: Come here
Child continues building Leggos.

Parent (whispering): …treat…
Everyone races to be the first (or second) to get the treat. Except the cat who saunters nonchalantly over but has plans to kill anyone who takes the cat treat.

This is not new news.

Parent says: Clean up your room, wash your face, then we’ll go shopping for school supplies.
Child hears: Let me grab my purse, a snack for you, and the car keys and we’ll go buy Star Wars Leggos.

Again. Nothing new.

Sometimes we hear the greatest new things on the internet.

Sometimes everything old is new again (extra points if you get the reference).

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

It probably will not surprise you to learn that Dad is watching a bio-ecology-ocean-fish TV show (especially when I tell you there aren’t any major sporting events on air at the moment).

It probably will stun you to learn that I am watching too. And I hope you don’t fall over when you learn that I haven’t started commenting about the plot (non-existent), the dialog (non-existent), the narration (monotone), or the music (snore).

I am completely and utterly transfixed by the videography.

My Friend the Internet has turned sulky. Really, really sulky. DearKidLoveMom.com

How do they DO that? How do they hold the camera steady when the ocean is busy moving and there’s no place to put a tripod? How do they get stunningly clear pictures when all the oceans I’ve ever seen are muddy and have seaweed floating in the way? How do they manage to have air-based video, surface video, and underwater video all at the same time? How do they get the fish and turtles and dolphins and sharks to cooperate? I can’t even get the Puppy to pose—even when I try copious bribery.

So I turned to My Friend the Internet for information.

Me: How do they DO that?
MFtI: Can’t tell you.
Me: What do you mean you can’t tell me?
MFtI: Trade secret.
Me: What do you mean “trade secret”? The whole point of the internet is to share all information, secret or not.
MFtI: Possibly not the whole point.
Me: Close enough.
MFtI: Yeah. Except in this case.
Me: Who decided this?
MFtI: I did.
Me: You’re putting our friendship at risk.
MFtI: Sorry to disappoint you.

I don’t know where this new internet came from, but I am seriously disappointed.

On the other hand, the probability of me taking up underwater videography is not good. So perhaps a bit of mystery is a good thing.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

By today’s standards, my little computer is ginormous. When I bought it, it was a cute little thing.

Today’s blog is being brought to you by a 4,000 year old computer.

Yesterday, as I was driving you back to school, Dad was kind enough to take my laptop to The People Who Know About These Things. (I assume you remember that I “upgraded” [ha!] to Windows 10 and  immediately lost all ability to connect to the internet. If you don’t remember, read about it here.)

The People Who Know About These Things knew all about the joys of Windows 10 and mentioned that people have been having difficulty with internet connections when they upgrade.

Where were those people when I was triple checking that it was safe to upgrade??? Clearly I should have quadruple checked, but you can’t have everything.

Techno-dude took the laptop’s blood pressure and checked other vital signs, plugged in a thumb drive thingy, whispered sweet ones and zeros and managed to connect. Yippee!

But by the time Dad and the laptop got home, the laptop turned pissy again and refused to cooperate.

Which means I still cannot connect to My Friend the Internet.

I may be good at killing technology, but I don’t like being defeated. So I pulled out my little I-can-write-blogs-anywhere computer which is over 100 years old and slower than mud. Thick mud. Frozen thick mud. That hasn’t moved in a century.

By today’s standards, my little computer is ginormous. When I bought it, it was a cute little thing.

By today’s standards, my little computer is slow. When I bought it, it was slow. But cute. And conveniently light.

Mostly what it does best is inform me that it is Not Responding.

It’s had a lot of practice saying that. Which means I’ve had a lot of practice being patient. And if you’re wondering how well that worked out, let’s just say I continue to need practice.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

That horrible, eardrum shattering, twisted metal, nails on a chalkboard screech you just heard was the world shuttering to a halt.

It is not a good day. Do not buy a Lottery ticket, do not pass Go, do not collect $200, do not even think about unicorns with rainbow poop.

I cannot connect to the internet. (For the record, I am posting this from Dad’s computer.)

Last night, I upgraded to Windows 10.

Just to be clear, I know that Technology and I do not exactly have the greatest of all relationships. I know that I am capable of shutting down HAL-sized machines just by being part of the same universe. And I know that one does not instantly run out and adopt the latest and greatest new operating system; one waits for the bugs to be discovered and corrected. Especially if One is Me.

I did not try to adopt Windows 10 the instant it was offered. I waited patiently. (No, seriously, I was patient. It was not a matter of Great Interest to me.) I watched others, I read reviews, I talked to Knowledgeable People, and mostly I waited.

When the aforementioned Knowledgeable People indicated the coast was clear, the bugs were zapped, and the upgrade was safe, I still waited.

Finally, last night I thought, What the heck.

Let me tell you, what-the-heck.

Not only does the upgrade take about 17 hours (during which I made soup, cleaned out three cabinets, and watched reruns of Burn Notice), it requires you to shut down and restart several many times.

No problem. Burn Notice.

But then—and this, my dear child is where things went Oh, So Terribly Wrong—my lovely, darling sweet computer turned into a stubborn hunk of metal.

It simply refused to connect to the internet.

At all.

Shut down. Restart.

Same refusal.

Click all the Let-Me-Help-You buttons. They require an internet connection. ARRRRG!

Twelve hours later, I have not resolved the problem.

I am not, just in case you were confused about the matter, a happy camper.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

ODE TO THE INTERNET
On a painfully slow day

I sit and wait for you to load
You’re not as fast as I was told
The time it takes is gone for good
Come on! This is my livelihood!

I sit and wait for you to load
It’s long past time you finally showed
And trust me now, I won’t forget.
I need to reach the internet.

I sit and wait for you to load
And now my dinner’s growing cold
And still I wait and wait and wait.
I’m getting bored; it’s getting late.

I sit and wait for you to load
I’m going into panic mode
I’ve got to get my story set
I’ve got to reach the internet!

I sit and wait for you to load
I think my head just might explode
As time continues not to fly
Without the ‘net, I just might die!

I sat and waited all night long
I even wrote this little song
A wasted night that I regret
I still can’t reach the internet…

Love, Mom

You want to share this one, don’t you? Go ahead. It’s OK.