Wednesday, June 13, 2012

To My Daughter....What I Want for You

So I recently wrote your birthday post, about how incredible you are, and how you amaze me, and how lucky I am to be your mom. All of that, of course, is true. But I didn't touch on what I really want for you. And the truth, sweet girl, is that there's no end to what I want for you.

Right now, as I write this, I want you to have a good night's sleep, so that tomorrow, when one of your brothers throws a shoe at your head, you will just throw it back at him, instead of bursting into tears because you're over tired.

I also want you to continue to believe it is cool to be smart. Because it is.

I want you to always be as proud of yourself as you are when you dance. No matter what you're doing. And yes, that means you'll sometimes have to stop and ask yourself "Is this something I'm going to be proud of later?" But I also want you to remember that if you do something you're not proud of, it's never the end of the world. And there is nothing-nothing-you can't come to me with.

I want you to continue to remember how important it is to be kind. To other kids. To your friends and family. To old people. To animals. To old animals. Well, you get the picture.

I also want you to remember that sometimes it's possible to be too kind. It's not your job to stay with a jerky boyfriend because he tells you he would be lost without you. Nor should you remain friends with someone who repeatedly doesn't treat you well. There is no such thing as love where someone abuses or belittles you.

It's OK to be kind to strangers when you're older. But don't ever get in their cars, or go for a walk with them, or tell them where you live. Not now, and not when you're twenty-seven. And trust your instincts.

I want you to ignore those bitchy girls you will likely encounter in  middle school. And I want you to believe me when I tell you they're just jealous. Cause it's true. But if they ever become anything more than bitchy, I want you to come to me. Immediately. So that I can bring my own inner bitch to the principal's office. That's another thing I want for you. When you're older, you must get in touch with your inner bitch. You shouldn't let her out all the time. In fact, most of the time, you should keep her tucked safely away inside. Also, don't ever let her out in my home. But trust me when I tell you, there will unfortunately be a few times when she will need to come out. So, when absolutely necessary, you shouldn't be afraid to use her. (If you were a boy, we would just call this "being assertive" or "standing up for yourself". Since you're a girl, we get to have an inner bitch).

If bringing out your inner bitch doesn't do the trick, call your family for back-up. If your inner bitch isn't working, you can use mine. Your dad will help, too, though he doesn't need an inner bitch. His power is just in being your dad. Your brothers will also be great back-up when they're older. Come to think of it, they would probably be pretty good back-up now, too.

When you think your heart has been broken by that guy in high school--or preferably, college--I want you to come to me, sit on the couch, put your head on my shoulder, and eat ice cream. Then I want you to realize that your heart wasn't broken after all. It was just a little bruised. And besides, he was an idiot.

Then we'll go shopping.

I want you to remember that you are smart, and beautiful, and talented, and capable. I want you to remember that you are one of the centers of my universe, and of your dad's universe. But, sweet girl, please remember, especially as you get older, that that is not the same as being the center of the universe.

 I want you to believe that you can do anything you want. At times, I still catch you trying to fly. You may not always believe you're a fairy. But I hope you'll always believe you can fly. And if you fall, that's OK, too. You just get up, dust off your wings, and try again.

I want you to realize that life may not always go exactly the way you hope. God doesn't consult us before making His plans. I want you to make the most of it anyway.

I want you to remember to laugh. With others. At yourself. To yourself. Just not at others.

I don't ever want you to forget what's important:

Family. Friendship. Faith. Love. Laughter.

You.

And everyone else, too.







No comments:

Post a Comment