At this exact moment, it is 2:55 a.m.

I just spent the last 10 minutes rummaging through all of the boxes of stuff I brought home from my college apartment and simultaneously trying not to wake anyone else up.

It’s kind of a regular thing for me to be awake doing odd things at odd hours of the morning. Yesterday, it was making pancakes. A lot of the time it’s drinking coffee (kind of contradicting, I know). Today, it’s sorting through storage boxes and writing about it.

I blame my insomnia on my habit to overthink. Last night, I went to bed kind of upset. I really couldn’t tell you why, but, after she went to bed, I remember thinking, “man, I wish I could have a mom hug right now..”

Hugs are the best. Seriously, a good embrace from someone who really cares about you, and vice versa, can make a day go from terrible to manageable in a wink. But mom hugs? Mom hugs are on a different level. Because moms in general are on a different level. You know they care about you even more than you care about yourself.

And that’s where I am right now. Sitting in my bed with my laptop on, thinking about how moms and mom hugs truly make the world a better place.

A couple years ago, I was having a bad week, or month.. Honestly, I don’t even remember now. I could say I don’t remember why, but that’d be a lie. Boys can take the best of you sometimes.

I also don’t remember telling my mom much about why I was upset, or that I was even upset at all for that matter. But, moms have ESP. Over the biggest or smallest of ordeals. They know, they knew, they will know. And they’ll know every thought that crosses through that pretty little head of yours. For real. I don’t know how they do it.

Now, things I DO remember about this particular bad-ish weekend:

I had just pulled into my usual parking spot outside of my apartment after a weekend at home. I spent the hour car ride not thinking about much other than “God, I hope that car doesn’t pass me in the next 20 seconds because Rihanna’s about to kill this solo and so am I.” Car concerts are the best concerts.

I turned off my little rusty Taurus (named Franklin, for obvious reasons – Taurus sounds like tortoise aka turtle, therefore Franklin the turtle) and lifted my bookbag off the passenger seat where, underneath it, I found an envelope with my name written on it.

I already knew it was from my mom. She has very distinct handwriting. Although, I do find it very similar to that of Santa Claus.

Inside was a card with three cute little girls on the front of it making goofy faces. The inside read – “The secret to life is to hang out with the people who can appreciate what a huge goofball you are.”

That may be the first time I’ve ever read what the card said, because besides what was already printed inside the card was more of that Santa Claus handwriting taking up about 90% of the blank space left in cards to usually just write a “Yay! Congrats!” or “Love, a;slk jise.”

Sprawled across the top were the words “Mom’s September 2013 advice:” Great.

I braced myself for paragraphs among paragraphs on keeping up with studying and homework, but still making sure to go out with friends and have fun and blah blah blah… Nope. Instead, I read something that made me tear up for other reasons besides annoyance.

“Dearest Kels –

Let go of those things (no matter how beautiful) that continue to break your fragile heart.

Find & be found by those that treat you like the beautiful, quirky, random person you are; – that person whose face lights up like a sunbeam when they see you across the room; the one who texts you at 2:00 am just to make sure you’re okay; the one who takes you for a ride to hear your favorite music; the one who understands your dusty soul; the one who hugs you when you cry for no reason; those that you can dance & laugh with whenever; those that can’t wait to see you in the morning, even without your teeth brushed or make up on! Those that love you as much as we do. 🙂

and JT’s (the real one) – the secret to life is enjoying the passage of time. Any fool can do it, there ain’t nothing to it. Einstein said we can never understand it all. Planets spinning through space, Smile upon your face. Welcome to the human race. Isn’t it a lovely world!

Love, Mom”

One day my mom heard someone call Justin Timberlake “JT” and she went on to tell me that James Taylor is the real “JT.” I kind of laughed, but I didn’t argue. Because my mom is amazing and brilliant and knows more about the world than anyone else I’ve ever met .. Even if she doesn’t fully understand how to use her iPhone sometimes (don’t tell her I said that.)

Hearing or reading my mom say something like what she wrote usually makes me roll my eyes in the moment. I think, “you have to say that. You’re my mom.” ‘That’ usually being a compliment or her defending me, sometimes her defending the opposite view of mine because she wants me to learn and grow as a person and know when I am in the wrong. Total mom move.

My mom knows me better than I know myself. And sometimes it takes me a while to realize that what she says to me does have a lot of merit to it. I don’t take it seriously half the time, until it’s about five years later and, even though my best friend is making new friends, fun friends, friends that have different things in common with her than I do, she’s still my best friend. Or just because the boy with the pretty brown eyes said he likes you (again) doesn’t mean he won’t change his mind (again). And if or when he does, he makes for a better friend than boyfriend anyways.

How are moms always right? Do they foresee the future, rub their hands together and cackle as they say “this one will throw them for a loop in a few years”…?

If I added up all the advice my mom has given me in my life that I should have listened to when she first said it, I’d never want to have to count anything ever again.

So, it’s now 3:45 a.m. I’ve read the card about three times so far, and each time I do, I can’t help but think, “man, this woman really loves me.”

And, inevitably, I am now longing for a mom hug even more than I was an hour ago. Just because I can’t help but think, “man, I really love this woman.”