We’re moving into the trenches of the teenaged years.
I was going to write something all deep and wise and filled with maternal wisdom. Instead we’re going to keep it brief. I’m going to hit the high points. The most important things I want you to know. Cause there’s cake to be eaten. And candles to blow out and I know in about 35 seconds you’re going to start rolling your eyes at me.
Here’s what you need to know.
You’re funny and smart and full of piss and vinegar. A 4 part combo that makes for daily adventure. I wouldn’t have you any other way.
I yell because I get scared. Love takes fear and turns the volume loud enough to rattle the windows.
I want the best for you. Always. I want to give you the best of me. Alas, I’m human and there are days where my best is nothing more than making sure you have clean socks and underwear. I want to help you call out the best in you. The things that really count… discipline, passion, joy, commitment – you’re going to have to find those on your own. I’ll be here pointing them out like a tourist at the zoo. But you’ll have to wrestle them to the ground and put them in your pocket. They’ll mean more to you when you’ve had to fight for them yourself.
At the end of the day, when I stand quietly in your doorway before I go to bed, I am in awe of you.
You have grasped on to something most adults struggle to find and hold. You have found something to be passionate about. Music leaps from your fingers with every stroke of your bow or plucking of a string. Keep that in front of you. It’s a map for the rest of your life.
This year you’ll start a new school, make new friends, probably have some llama drama moments with yo mamma (I’m predicting those moments will involve skinny jeans). There will be boys. Remember our Taco Talk. We’ll both have to learn how to navigate those waters. Just know that’ll I’ll be navigating with a nice wooden baseball bat.
I love you. If there was a love parade I would be in line first… on a pony, wearing cowboy boots, a sparkly hat and banging on a drum. And I would follow you everywhere you go. Hootin’ and hollering’. Clappin’ and cartwheelin’. Blowing on a party horn. Wearing a t-shirt that said, in ginormous hot pink, puffy letters, with an arrow pointing straight to you – that’s my daughter.
Chin up and knockers out girlie…
Oh,, and remember YOLO!