Dear Kid,

Aside from the coffee we stopped for on the way to see you (one part battery acid to two parts battery acid) and my slightly sun-kissed nose, yesterday was a fabulous day.

Even the unfortunate end to the football game couldn’t take the shine off the day.

OU football! OU, Oh yeah! DearKidLoveMom.com

And I am now officially a HUGE RAVING fan of the Marching 110.

…the effervescence of the 110 between plays and during TV time outs is contagious…

There is a convenience inherent in watching football on TV. The snacks are less expensive, there’s no line for the restroom, and did I mention the slight sunburn? But there is nothing like of being part of a cheering crowd. And the effervescence of the 110 between plays and during TV time outs is contagious (and unfortunately drowned out by TV commentators). The 110 has FUN. Halftime was EXCEPTIONAL!

Before the game and after brunch with you, Dad and I drove to  the “classic Appalachian town” of Nelsonville, OH, home of a very small historic town square, an opera house (closed for renovation), a cute emporium (bought a glass barrette), and Rocky Boots (want to kill something with four legs? Get outfitted here).

Nelsonville Brick

Nelsonville is famous for coal mining (which we don’t talk about) and its bricks which were often made with a star pattern and were shipped all over these here United States.

When we got back to Athens, we parked at “Event Parking $5” and walked over to the Dairy Barn and Art Gallery. I’ve seen the signs for the last two years since it isn’t that far from your apartment, but we’ve never been. Yesterday, we went.

Turns out the art gallery/museum cost $10 per human, and since we weren’t planning to enjoy $10 worth we didn’t pay. Instead I asked if I could visit the shop. Certainly, I was told. But to get to the shop you go through the gallery. I cheated and looked at the art on my way. Very cool. Not worth $10 visit fee.

The shop has much of the same art we saw in Nelsonville at the aforementioned Emporium, so we got to enjoy it a second time.

Our view during our picnic before the OU football game. DearKidLoveMom

Then a quick picnic by the car and off to the football game.

Lovely, lovely day.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Today is going to be an amazing day. Except for the Getting Up at 5:45am on the First Day of a Long Weekend Part.

Other than that, it’s going to be awesome.

Except for the driving. The early wakeup and the driving, not so great. The rest of the day, fantabulous.

Can you tell that I’m excited?

Partly because we get to see you (yay!) and feed you (whoops! Hungry college kid alert! There goes the tuition money!).

And partly because Dad and I get to spend some time together which it turns out we actually enjoy doing. Who knew?

And partly because we’re going to the Ohio University football game. Which we’ve never done before.

We’re excited to see the team play, we’re excited to see you on the sidelines, and we’re definitely excited to see the Marching 110 (about whom we have heard so much).

I looked up the Marching 110 (I think I’m required to write it in italics). I have it on great authority (and by “great authority” I mean the Marching 110’s website) that they are the Most Exciting Band in the Land! Emphasis on “exciting.” Which surprised me because I expected the emphasis on MOST. That may explain why the band has never called me for advice.

The Marching 110 currently has 245 members. The “110” refers to the original number of band members. And to the amount of effort (110%) band members are expected to put in.

The Marching 110 consists of the following instrumentation:  Clarinets, Alto Saxophones, Tenor Saxophones, Mellophones, Trumpets, Trombones, Baritones, Sousaphones, and Percussion.

No kazoos.

Wait. Mellophones? What the heck is a mellophone?

I immediately turned to My Friend the Internet.

Do you know what a mellophone is?

1. A brass instrument that says, “dude” a lot
2. The thing you toast and then put on s’mores
3. A silent cell phone
4. A brass instrument similar to the orchestral French horn, played mainly in military and concert bands
5. No, I don’t know what a mellophone is.

It is not at all obvious to me that I will know a mellophone from any other horn, but I plan to enjoy them (probably in an un-mellow way).

Today is going to be a great day.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

I don’t know if this is good news or bad news. For me, I mean. For you, it’s (probably) entirely uninteresting.

You may have heard that I have a Fitbit. And that I adore it and all its purple-ness. It makes me (yes, makes me) walk farther than I otherwise would. It tracks all sorts of interesting things. And all in all it makes me Most Happy.

But as the worlds of technology and retail and purple are wont to do, things are a-changin’.

By which I mean there are New Fitbits about to be available. And they have some pretty cool features.

Like being able to change watch-band colors (not everything goes with purple—almost everything, but not everything).

And a bigger display so you can see more stuff about yourself, including reminders to get up off your duff and move for crying out loud (not so important for you, but very important for those of us who stare at a screen all day).

But here’s the really, ultra-cool part. The new Charge tells you how (un)fit you are by estimating your VO2 Max. And—this is so freakin’ amazing I can’t stand it—the new Charge has Guided Breathing Sessions. Yep. Wrist-led meditation. I think I’m in love and it’s not even out yet.

Am I going to buy one? Of course not. My current Fitbit (purple) works just fine and I don’t happen to have spare chunk of change lying around for it (I checked the couch cushions to be sure).

But I am going to sigh after it for a while.

And pretend I’m breathing.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

The Olympics have come to an end.

The statue-thing that the athletes were handed with their medals was a 3D printed model of the logo. It was given instead of flowers because flowers were just thrown away and environmentalism and sustainability were a big part of the theme of this year’s games.

Somehow we’ve forgotten about the mosquitoes. We still care about the violence (even the made-up robbery) and the water pollution (can you say “ewwww”), but we’re not worrying about it.

We’re thinking about all the wonderful things that happened over the last two weeks. We’re remembering the grit, the heart, the sportsmanship. We’re thinking about the world records, the Olympic medals, and the national anthems.

We’re reliving the colors and the music and the stories. We’re remembering the athletes who set personal bests and those who competed with no hope of a medal. Because that’s what the Olympics are all about—coming together to celebrate the spirit and athleticism of the participants.

I love the Olympics. I love what they stand for (staying up past midnight every day to watch obscure sports) and what they represent (bankrupting the host nation). But I have to admit, I’m ready for The Games to be over. I’m ready to go back to staying up late to watch Trevor Noah et al. I’m ready to watch football and reality TV and NCIS reruns.

But then I’ll be ready for the Olympics the next time around.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Thank you for not competing in the decathlon.

Not only are these incredible athletes (understatement of the day), and not only do they compete all day for two days in a row (stamina for athletes and spectators alike!), but they need to have an enormous supply of batteries.

Huh? Batteries?

Yes, batteries.

Because figuring out where you are the standings requires crazy calculations, lookup tables, advanced calculus, and three or four commentators.

“Well if Athlete A throws the javelin as far as he’s capable of and then Athlete B leaps over tall buildings in a single bound then Athlete C can win if he is wearing purple on Thursday.”

I can hold my own with most of the math taught in junior high, but this starts to get a little crazy.

Fortunately, the Olympics come with plenty of computing power and plenty of commentators to muddy the waters.

(Or is that just algae in the water? #RioSnark)

Hope you’re finding some time to enjoy The Games before classes start.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

My Fitbit and I are having an argument.

Fitbit: Your body fat percentage hasn’t changed.
Me: I’ve been lifting weights.
Fitbit: No change.
Me: I’ve been doing cardio.
Fitbit: You’ve been talking to your friends while you walk. No change.
Me: I’ve changed my eating habits.
Fitbit: What? You’re eating dessert before your meal? No change.
Me: I’ve lost weight.
Fitbit: Not enough. No change.
Me: But I lost 10 entire pounds!
Fitbit: No change.
Me: I think you’re wrong.
Fitbit: Doesn’t matter what you think. No change.

This is the conversation we’ve been having for months. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work, no matter how much weight I lose, my beloved, stubborn (and still purple) Fitbit continues to insist, “No change.”

Then the unimaginable happened.

I gained 3 ounces. My Fitbit pounced.

Fitbit: Your body fat percentage has increased 9 points.

I’m pretty sure my Fitbit is related to my scale.

Love, Mom