Sunday, December 30, 2012

Another letter I wish I had written to my daughter

Diana turned 4 months on Friday, so I know I don't have to think about her leaving any time in the near future.  That being said, I also know that time is going to FLY - and I am going to wish I had said some of these things to her before she heads off into the big, crazy world. 

So, Diana - this is a letter that I wish I had written to you, written by another mom that looked at her young daughter this week and also realized that the day will come when she won't live under Mommy's roof anymore.  Just because I didn't write it myself does not mean that I don't relate to every word below - or mean it with all of my heart.  Love you to the moon and back, Mommy.  

P.S.  When I just searched for an image to post with this letter and typed in the words "girl going to college", I am straight up horrified at what I found.  Please, please, please don't ever pose for those kinds of photos.  They will haunt you forever, as in someday, your son or daughter might find them.  

Dear Viv,

Tomorrow, you're headed off to college. Your Dad and I are so fucking proud of you. What, you didn't know mom dropped F-bombs? I've been saving them up until you left the house. Your poor Dad is going feel like he's living with Sam Kinison.

Since your high school years were not nearly as tortured and awkward as your mother's, perhaps you will not feel the need to go full Girls-Gone-Wild bananas in college like I did, but just in case, here are some helpful guidelines:

Do not drink the punch. It's flammable and toxic and boys have most definitely peed in there. If you must drink, stick with beer, which will hopefully fill you up before you can poison yourself.

Please don't do drugs. But if you're going to try drugs, do like mom always taught you at Whole Foods and buy organic.

When you go out at night, always use the buddy system. (Your buddy is a nice girl from your dorm. Preferably a Mormon.) When that cute lacrosse player wants to show you the roof of his fraternity house, ask yourself, is my buddy here? No? Then go find her and walk home together.

No naked photos. If some boy you like really needs a permanent record of your boobs, suggest that he draw you from life, Titanic-style. He supplies the diamond.

Make friends with girls. Guys can also be terrific friends, but until the When Harry Met Sally theory of gender relations is formally disproven, some of those friendships may be lost to unrequited feelings or bad kissing. Girls are for life.

Speaking of permanence, I hear tattoo removal is quite painful.

Don't automatically skip the opening band. The Beastie Boys once opened for Madonna.

If someone offers you a chance to march on Washington for a cause you believe in, go. This rarely happens after college, and never again does it come with a shiny bus and matching t-shirts.

Courses like philosophy, art history and literature will open your mind, unveil the beauty in the world and make you really good at crossword puzzles. That said, it wouldn't hurt to take an accounting class.

I know it's more convenient, but remember that texting will never be as satisfying as an in-person conversation. Would you rather have a pizza described to you or delivered to your door?

And one more thing I learned in college a few times over: A broken heart feels like the end of the world, but it's just the beginning -- as well as the foundation for all the best songs and poetry.

Viv, I hope you'll take some of this advice to heart, but whether you do or not, I'll still be there whenever you need me. Once upon a time, I knew a lot about great novelists and boys. I can still talk with some authority about boys. (Or should you fall in love with girls, I'm a quick study.)

I'm so excited for you. As it says in our story book, I love all that you will be, and everything you are.

Love you madly,

(Written by Amy Wruble:  

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