A Letter to my son on his 18th Birthday

Before my children were born, I decided to write a letter to them when I was pregnant, one when they were born, and one every year thereafter on their birthday.

My Darling Boyo,

Oh, my baby boy.  You are an adult now.  But you are still my baby.  I hope you know that you will always be my lil guy, even as you are picking out colleges and completing your last year of high school.

I thought long and hard about what I want to tell you now that you are 18.  I still haven't quite figured it out.  I am misty eyed as I write this -- thinking about 18 year old you, the adult (who is still in high school, though, so my rules still apply) and comparing the mythical him to the very real 4 year old I dropped off at preschool today.

At four, you have such a determination about you.  Your dad calls it stubbornness.  There is some of that too, but I see it as determination.  I hope you carry that into your adult life -- the determiniation and willingness you have to finish what you start, to see it through, and to do it right.

You are also such a sweet, silly preschooler.  I hope you are still sweet and silly, that you don't lose the ability to laugh with others and at yourself -- but never at others.

You are so delighted to see me when I pick you up, and you are such a social little guy.  Your friendliness and openness, your ability and willingness to introduce yourself to people you don't know, to talk and to play with them, will get you far in life.  PLEASE don't lose that.

The day is coming soon when you will leave.  Where I will no longer be your favorite person, no longer shake you out of bed in the morning, no longer be a part of your day to day life. There will be college and a career, some tramp girl who steals your heart, children, and so much more.  Knowing that our time is limited, I weep.  And I think, "Have I taught you all you need to know?  Have I covered all the bases?  Have I done my job?  Are you ready for this life?"

So as you stand on the cusp of your adult hood, your manhood, I have some advice for you, my son.  

Be smart.  Book smart, yes.  Gut smart -- even better.  If something feels wrong, it most likely is.  Trust yourself.

Say it.  Too often, men are told that to be strong, they must be silent.  I call bullsh@# on this one.  Say what is on your mind and in your heart.  Tell people when they are right.  Tell them when are wrong.  Tell people when you are angry.  Tell people when you are happy.  Tell people when you are sad.  Communicate.  

 Don't be afraid to fight -- but fight fair.  Don't be afraid to apologize first when necessary -- it's a sign of strength, not a white flag of surrender.   I'm raising you to be a strong man -- that means not being afraid of strong women.  Remember, your mom, your sisters, and (someday) your wife are all strong women -- it takes a strong man to stand up to them (remember what I said about fighting fair).  It also takes a strong man to let them take the lead.  Not all the time, but about 50% of the time.  And be a gentleman -- a woman can be strong and still want you to hold the door open for her.

Go big.  Even if you fail.   It takes courage to try when you are facing defeat.  Fail spectacularly.  And then get it right.  But remember -- there is no such thing as perfect.  Challenge yourself. 

Live a creative life.  Be wrong.  Be bold.  Be good.  Be nice to people. Be hopeful.  Be glad.  Be happy.  Be thankful.  Take chances.  Have adventures.  See the adventures in the ordinary -- you could be missing something extraordinary by not paying close enough attention.  Be curious.  Remember you have the freedom to choose -- but you must live with the choices you make.  Make your life matter.  Make the world better than when you found it  -- it matters not if you do this through big things or little things, so long as you do it.  Remember to pray.  Work hard.  Your life is your message to the world -- what do you want to say?

Remember you can talk to me about anything.
And I will always love you,

Love,
Mom 

A Letter to My Daughter on her 14th Birthday

To My Darling Girl,

Welcome to the world, little one!  After 10 hours of induced labor, 10 minutes of pushing, one stuck baby, two nurses pushing on my stomach, and the doctor yanking you out of me, you are finally here!

I am so happy to meet you, my love.  You are snuggled into my right arm while I type one handed, your schooshie face scrunched up and your eyes squeezed shut as if to open them would be to face the fact that you are outside of me, ready to take on this big world.

Today you are 14, my angel.  Your entire life is stretching before you.  I have such hopes for you.  I hope you are creative and brave enough to follow that creativity.  I hope you realize that failure is an opportunity in disguise -- it's a chance to do better, to be better.  I hope you try again and again and again... even if you never get it right.  Perfection is not possible.

 I hope you have adventures.  Not the sneaking out of the house to see if you can adventures.  But the type of adventures that help you learn who you are as a person and grow into a better human being.  And I hope that you can make adventures out of an ordinary day. 

I hope you can laugh at yourself and I hope you don't let other people laugh at you.  I hope you stand up for yourself.  I hope you are strong enough to tell your friends when they are wrong, to think outside the box, and that you can be nice to yourself. 

I hope you can go with the flow in a way that I never can.  I hope you can adapt when possible.  I hope you can stand firm when necessary.  I hope you know which battles are worth fighting and which ones are ridiculous.

I hope you are a good sister -- strong and caring, but not afraid to call your sisters and brother on their bulls@#$.  I hope you love your sisters and brothers and I hope you know that you are just as loved and just as important to me as they are.

And I hope and pray that if you have trouble believing or doing anything that I hope for you, you can come to me.  I will help you believe it.  I will help you do it.  Why?  Because I love you.  Because I believe you are capable of great things and ordinary things -- capable of anything you choose to do.  Life is not to be lived alone --  you have a family who loves you so very, very, very much.  And we are always here for you.

You only have one life, my love.  And now you get to decide how to live it.  I hope you make it a great one.

I hope you know that you are a wonder.  You are amazing.  You are fabulous.  You are an individual.  You are strong.  I hope you know that I love you.

You can talk to me about anything.

I love you,

Mom

A Letter To My Daughter on Her 13th Birthday

Before my children were born, I decided to write a letter to them when I was pregnant, one when they were born, and one every year thereafter on their birthday. Given that I am two weeks away from my due date, I figured I should probably write BabyGirlieGirl's now...

Hello My Darling Girl...

You are not here yet -- that is, you are very much a presence, but as I write this, you are still nestled inside of me, warm and comfortable, listening to the beating of my heart.  I can't imagine what 13 year old you is like -- I have tried, but all I can see is the baby snuggled in my womb, the baby who gets the hiccups at 2 in the morning and wakes me up, the baby who is attempting to punch her way through my belly button right now, the baby I am desperate to meet.

Unless God has another plan for your father and I, you are our last child.  My last pregnancy.  The last time I will feel a child move inside of me.  You are our baby.  And you complete our family.

I always wanted four children.  And your dad did too -- at least, he said he does.  Even when we thought we were done having children after your brother was born, I always knew that we had more children waiting for us to get our act together.  So know that you are wanted, and loved, and necessary.  Your timing was a surprise, yes, but a blessing just the same -- I wouldn't trade you or your timing for anything.

I am afraid that I don't know much about being the fourth child.  Your dad does, and he says it's no big deal.  Your Aunt Megan does, and she says it's a very big deal.  So I am going to assume that the line is somewhere in the middle.  Know that I love you just as much as I love your brother and sisters.  And that I will always try to be fair, but life isn't always fair -- but I will do my best to make your life within our family fair.

What do I hope for you, my baby girl?

I hope you know that you are beautiful.  Yes, I write that without having the slightest clue as to what you look like (although the last ultrasound showed you didn't have any hair, like your older brother and sister).  I want you to know that you are beautiful because you are mine and your father's -- you are beautiful because you are ours.

I hope that you are strong -- not just physically (although as the baby, I am sort of expecting -- and dreading -- the fact that you will probably be able to knock your brother and sisters on their butts), but mentally and emotionally.  I hope you have a strong sense of self -- that is something your father and I will strive to give you every day.  You don't have to agree with us all the time.  You don't have to try to make everyone happy -- you can't.  But I hope you can make yourself happy.

With that being said, I hope you are not selfish.  Yes, you are a teenager.  Yes, you probably think the world revolves around you.  It doesn't.  The world is bigger than you are -- I hope you can recognize that and take an active part in trying to make the world better -- this will make you better too.

I hope you know that I can't fix everything.  I wish I could.  I wish that you could come to me with every hurt and I could wave a magic wand to make it go away.  But I can't.  In order for you to grow, and learn, and be who God intends you to be, sometimes all I can do is wipe away your tears, listen to your sorrows, hold you while you cry, bake you cookies, and pray that will be enough.  And I hope you know that even if I can't fix it, I want to know about it -- sometimes talking about the hurt can be enough.  

I hope that you are smart -- and that you realize that acting dumb is stupid.  Knowledge is power, my love.  Don't waste or pretend not to have yours.

And as you enter your teenage years, I hope you realize that girls can be mean.  So can boys.  So can people.  Don't hang out with those people.  They don't deserve you.  And don't be a mean girl.  Treat people with kindness.  Live so that no one can say anything bad about you. 

Lastly, I hope you know that I am trying my best.  I know I make mistakes and yell and I am not always the mother you deserve.  I am sorry.  I love you and your sisters and your brother more than you will ever know (until you have children of your own).  I want to be better for you.  You make me better.  I hope you know that -- that you make a better mother, woman, and person.

I hope you know that you can talk to me about anything and I will always love you.

Love,

Mom

A Letter to My Daughter on her 15th Birthday

 To My Darling Baby Girlie:

Happy Fifteenth Birthday, my love!  While I don't know what you are doing today, I do know what you were doing 13 years ago -- celebrating your first birthday!  You have grown so fast, my angel.  I get a little weepy when I think about how fast this year has gone by.

You are such a joyous, strong baby.  You are my girl, through and through.  And when I think of one year old you, I can only quote Shakespeare: "Though she be but little, she is fierce."  And you are fierce, and strong, and vocal.  You don't put up with your brother and sister's shenanigans, but want to join right in.  You don't seen to understand that you are younger than them and don't have the capabilities they do yet -- nothing will slow you down.  You constantly keep me on my toes - every day is a different adventure to keep you safe.  You are active and brave and adventurous like your brother, and talkative and sweet and cuddly like your sister.  Together, this makes you uniquely your own -- a funny little one year old who is determined not to be left behind but still wants her Momma to be with her always.

You make me smile and laugh -- you are so stinkin' cute and I don't know what I would do without you.  Not a day goes by that I don't marvel at you.  I hope you realize that you are a miracle -- you expand my heart in ways that I didn't know were possible.  You (and your brother and sisters) are the closest I will ever come to creating magic.

I know life is hard right now -- to say that the teenage years suck is an understatement.  I can only hope that you are still as brave and adventurous and talkative and sweet at 15 as you are at 1.  And I know that this is a time of change and peer pressure and you may think at times that I hate you -- I could never hate you.  I will always love you so much.  I may not always understand you, but I will always love you.  And while I may not always approve of the choices you make, I will always be proud of you.

I hope you know that you don't need expensive clothes or a new whatever or a different body or whatever you think you need.  You can want those things and work for them.  But what you need to grow and blossom is simple: be kind to yourself.  Be your biggest fan.  Smile.  Laugh.  Think.  Say no.  Say yes.  Imagine.  Create.   Don't be afraid of what other people think about you -- set your own terms.  Be silly.  Be smart.  Be human.  Don't try to be perfect -- but always try to be happy.  Be your own hero.  And don't let anyone take your smile away.

Life is hard - I'm not going to lie.  But it's worth it.  Live your life well. 

I love you, my sweetheart.    I hope you know you can talk to me about anything.

Love,

Mom

A Letter To My Daughter on her 19th Birthday....

Happy Birthday, My Darling Girl!!

Today, you are a five year old, sweet princess who refuses to wear anything but skirts and dresses and will put up a fuss if they aren't pink and/or purple.  You are so big, now, my angel baby!  You are growing further and further away from me and I see your blossoming independence in the little things -- get yourself dressed in the morning and brushing your own hair, getting your own snacks, buckling your seatbelt by yourself.  I know that when you start kindergarten in September, I'm going to be bawling all the way home.  I cling to the few remnants of "babyhood" you still allow me -- climbing in our bed in the middle of the night, snuggling me when we are watching TV, crawling up on my lap for a story.  These times are  fleeting now as you grow up, and it makes me cherish them all the more.  I hope you know that, whether your are 5 or 19, you can still come talk to me about anything or cuddle up with me.

You are so good with your baby sister -- you love her a little to vigorously sometimes, but it is clear you adore her.  I hope the 19 year old you still adores her.  And you tolerate your brother's incessant demands on your time and are (mostly) patient with him -- again, I hope the 19 year old you is still like that.  You have an answer for everything -- and your explanations are often hilarious and matter of fact.  For example, you told me today that I can't bend down to pick up your toys because the baby might fall out.  So therefore, we don't need to clean up.  Nice try, kid.  And you aren't afraid to ask questions -- your curiosity (as much as it makes me nuts sometimes) is a gift to be cherished and nourished.  You love to color and paint and create -- your artistic ability is one of your greatest gifts.  

I am trying to imagine what 19 year old you is like and I can't think about grown up you without my throat going tight and my eyes filling with tears.  So I can only tell you what I hope for you:

I hope that you are patient with people who irritate you.  And that you love vigorously.  And that you still ask questions and offer explanations to those who don't understand.  I hope you still create.  I hope you still look for fairies and see the magic that exists in the world.  I hope you still read fairy tales.  I hope you believe.  I hope you know how to take time for yourself, to finish what you start, and to at least try.  I hope you know that there is no dishonor in failure, as long as you gave it your best.  I hope you know your self worth lies in who you are and how you act, not in who you are with or how you look.  I hope you know that you are stronger than you think you are.  I hope you  laugh.  I hope you are happy.  I hope you know that your father and I love you.

I hope you know that you can talk to me about anything,
I love you,

Mom

A Letter to my 14 year old Daughter

I wrote this while I was in the hospital with Baby K - I will give it to her on her 14th birthday.

~

To my darling daughter,

Happy "Birth"day, my sweet little one! I can hardly believe that you are here! Your father is snuggling with you on what passes for a couch at the hospital, and you are looking around, your eyes blurry and blue, wondering what on earth has happened to you. You were safe and warm in your dark little world, and now you are surrounded by light and noise and it must be very, very confusing to you. I am amazed that you are not crying - I know I certainly would be. I sense an inner strength and calm about you, and I can't help but wonder if I am looking at the beginning of your personality.

Instead of fussing though you turn your perfect little head to whatever new noise you hear or light you see, and a quizzical expression comes over your face. I cannot wait to show you this new world, my darling, and to teach you how to navigate it.

I must tell you, my sweetheart - you were completely, totally, 100% worth the wait. You were worth the bedrest, the tests, the medication, the worry -- you came in your own time, and you are perfect. I hope that you never feel as though I didn't want you - you are brilliant and the only things I can honestly say I wanted as much as I wanted you are your brother and sister.

After you were born, your father and I studied your tiny little nose, your wrinkled little ears, your delicate hands and your perfect little eyebrows. We looked into your precious blue eyes and exclaimed over your dark, thick hair. We debated who you looked like - did you have your sister's lips or your brother's eyes? Did your hair come from your Gam-Gam? Finally, your father summed it up perfectly. "I know who she looks like," he declared. "She looks like herself."

And he's absolutely right. You do look like yourself. You are yourself. You aren't your sister or your brother. You are your own person, and I hope that I never forget that. I hope that I can remember that moment after your birth, when your father pointed out that you are yourself, for the rest of your life so that I do not make unfair comparisons to your brother and sister. And let's face it, any comparison would be unfair - to you and to them. You are yourself. You are brilliant. You are beautiful. And, most importantly, you are loved.

Welcome to the world, little one. I know you are ready to meet the it; I hope the world is ready for you.

I hope you know you can talk to me about anything.
Love,
Mom

A Letter to my Thirteen Year Old Daughter

Before my children were born, I decided to write a letter to them when I was pregnant, one when they were born, and one every year thereafter on their birthday. Given the concerns over premature labor this week and last, I decided it might be a good idea to write Baby Girl's letter now.

To my darling daughter:

What do I hope for you, my 13 year old daughter?

I hope you are strong enough to define yourself. I hope that your father and I have given you the skills you need to be able to do so as your enter the upcoming, turbulent teenage years. And I hope you realize that it is not only okay for you to change who you are, it is expected! I hope that the changes you make are the ones you want, though, and not the ones your friends want.

I hope you realize that as you enter into this wonderful and confusing aspect of womanhood, you are going to "trip and fall." And I hope you know that, even though it will kill me inside, sometimes I am going to have to let you fall. And I especially hope that your father and I have taught you how to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and move on.

I hope I can see you for who you are, and who you want to be, rather than who I want you to be. And if you think I'm failing in that aspect of motherhood, I hope that we have the type of relationship where you can tell me.

I hope you have beauty. Not outer beauty (that is overrated or can be bought), but the type of beauty that emanates from within, that only those who are truly kind and caring possess.

I hope that when your brother and sister try to push you around, you fight back. (No bloodshed, please.)

I hope that you can smile in the face of difficulties, right before you dig in and finish the job.

I hope you know that even though you are my third child, you are just as special and loved as the first two are.

What do I wish for you, my beautiful 13 year old daughter?

I wish you intelligence - not just the kind that comes from books, but also the type of intelligence that comes from your experiences, if you are brave enough to learn from them.

I wish you fairy tales and happy endings.

I wish you struggles so you learn what is really important.

I wish you tears so you know how to treasure true happiness.

I wish you a love that will make you smile every day.

I wish you only enough goodbyes to make you appreciate your hellos.

I wish you the life you want.

I hope and pray and wish you enough.

I hope you know you can come talk to me about anything.

I love you,
Mom

A Letter to My Son on his 16th Birthday

Before my children were born, I decided to write letters to them that they could open on their birthdays. Since I figured they would not be able to read when they were born, I addressed the letters with instructions to be opened starting on their 13th birthday. I wrote a letter when I was pregnant, a letter on the day the baby was born, and I write a letter every year on their birthday. Today is my son's second birthday, so he gets to open this letter when he turns 16...

To My Darling Boy:

I'm not sure what I want to say to you today... My heart is overflowing with love, but my body is exhausted from chasing you around all day. Today you are sixteen, and I hope and pray that you are running me as ragged now as you did today, the day you turned 2. After all, life wouldn't be any fun if I didn't have you to keep me on my toes.

This past year has been joyful and exhausting, terrifying and exhilarating. I get teary eyed as I think of 16 year old you - you are on the cusp of manhood and I can't wait to meet the man you become. But at the same time, I weep when I think I am losing the sweet, sticky little boy who yells, "Mommy!" and comes running over to give me a hug whenever I enter a room.

You are a loving two year old, asking for my hand to hold, Mommy's "uppie" for a cuddle, or screaming "NO!" when you want to run, climb, or crawl when I want to carry you. I am going to miss your solid little body snuggled up next to me on the couch, your chubby little hand grasping mine, your giggles as I tickle your round belly, and your screams for "again, again!"

This coming year, your three year old year, is going to bring changes. You are going to go from the baby to the middle child. And two year old James is uncertain about that. Everyday you tell me, "No baby. MY mommy." I hope that 16 year old James is comfortable with being the middle child, and I hope you realize that you will always be my baby, my boyo, my sweetheart. You hold a special place in my heart, not for being second born, not for being a boy, but for being mine.

I am proud to know that you are becoming your own person, someone independent from me. I can only hope that, as you turn 16, your father and I have given you the right lessons to help you become a strong, independent, generous, sensitive man.

What are my hopes for 16 year old James? I hope you are smart enough not to out think your common sense; that you trust yourself to listen to your intuition. I hope that you are still that loving boy you were when you were two, but that you are not afraid to speak your own mind, regardless of what people may think of you. I know the teenage years are hard, and I know that being an independent thinker can make them harder. Don't be afraid to say no to your friends, and if they give you crap for it, they aren't your friends. I hope that you are not afraid to be an independent thinker, that you are brave enough to fight injustice in your life, to let your voice be heard, and to protect those who cannot do so for themselves.

And what advice do I have for you, my 16 year old boy? Just this, the same thing that I say daily to two year old Boyo: Be careful! And remember, being able to do something and thinking you can do something are two very different things. I'm not saying don't try; I'm telling you to try. Try with all your being to accomplish your goals, so that years later, when you look back, you will have no regrets and you can honestly say, "I gave it everything I had." Thinking you can do something is the beginning. It is the start of a goal; it requires hard work, effort, and time. Being able to do something is your reward for those things. I hope that we have raised you to not be afraid of working hard, giving a strong effort, and spending time trying to achieve your goals.

You are my baby, my sweet boy. (I don't care that you are sixteen now, you are still my baby.)
I love you so much, and I hope you know you can talk to me about anything.

Love,
Mom

To My Daughter on Her 17th Birthday

Before my children were born, I decided to write letters to them that they could open on their birthdays. Since I figured they would not be able to read when they were born, I addressed the letters with instructions to be opened starting on their 13th birthday. I wrote a letter when I was pregnant, a letter on the day the baby was born, and I write a letter every year on their birthday. My daughter's third birthday was two weeks ago, so she gets to open this when she is 17...

My Darling, Preciousest Baby Girl:

You are such a BIG girl. I know that you are 17 now, and I can't wait to meet the adult you are becoming, but right now you are my precious little 3 year old daughter who likes to tuck in her baby dolls and pet my hair, who loves to cuddle on my lap while watching Princess movies and who takes my hand with a "Come ON Mommy" while you drag me over to come color or play with you, and who demands "Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-La" and "Baby Mine" lullabies every night and throws a fit if I try to sing them out of order.

You are the most interesting little person. You are kind to your brother - mostly - and so talkative. You are also such a little ham with a big, infectious giggle. You can be a little shy at first, but once you warm up to a person or situation, look out! You are so friendly and loving! I worry that you are too friendly sometimes, that you might get hurt because you are so open and willing to be friends with people, but then I remember how painfully shy I was and realize that your way is better. You are also a bit of a bossy, stubborn little thing. Some people might think that is bad, but I think it's a good thing. Women in this world need to be a little bossy and stubborn; we need to be the leaders future generations can count on. So be bossy and stubborn -- it shows that you know your own mind and are not afraid to speak up. But please temper these qualities with the ability to think and compromise. Don't order people around just because you can and don't hang on to a belief/practice that you know is wrong. It's okay to change your mind once you get more facts.

I start to cry when I think of you reading this letter in 14 years... you are my little girl and I don't want you to grow up; I love you so much and the thought of losing this little girl actually causes me physical pain. But I know that I will love the kindergartner just as much, if not more, and the elementary age sweet girl just as much, if not more, and my preteen and teenager daughter just as much, if not more, as I love my 3 year old baby girl. And I can't wait to see what the future brings.

If I am doing my math right, you are going to be entering your senior year of high school this year. And I remember well how hard that year is -- not necessarily in terms of schooling, but in terms of standing at the cusp of adulthood; you are no longer a child but are not quite an adult yet either. I know that to you, my 17 year old daughter, I may seem overbearing and demanding, probably uncool and difficult. Try to understand that it is because I love you and I can't bear to let you go just yet.

What do I hope for you, my 17 year old daughter? I hope that you are not afraid to speak your mind. That you continue to be kind and friendly. That you are strong in spirit and self. That you still have an infectious giggle and are loving. I hope you have style and grace. And I hope you kick ass when needs be, but are not afraid to let others take the reins now and again. I hope you know how to relax and how to study, that you can have fun and be responsible, that you can be smart and silly, that you can be strong and gentle. I hope you know that you can come talk to me about anything and that you and I have a good relationship of love and trust. Mostly, I hope you know that I am proud of you and that I love you so so so so much.

I love you, my preciousest babiest girl,

Mom

A Letter to My Son on his 15th Birthday

Before my children were born, I decided to write letters to them that they could open on their birthdays. Since I figured they would not be able to read when they were born, I addressed the letters with instructions to be opened starting on their 13th birthday. I wrote a letter when I was pregnant, a letter on the day the baby was born, and I write a letter every year on their birthday. Today is my son's first birthday, so he gets to open this letter when he turns 15...

My darling boy,

Today you turned one. I know you are reading this on the day you turn 15, but at this very moment you are asleep in your crib, sleeping soundly, after a very busy day of pictures, your first Happy Meal, cake, and toys.

To say that this has not been an easy year would be an understatement. You were a hard baby. Harder than I was expecting. You didn't sleep through the night until... well, we are still waiting for that. You want to eat all the time. And for the first 5 weeks of your life, if you were awake, you were screaming.

And that is what I need to tell you... as I reflect on this past year, I need to tell you that I love you. I love you so much... no matter how difficult you are.

This past year has been such an unexpected blessing. If you are like your father, you are capable of doing math, and you are probably aware that you weren't exactly planned. You were a surprise - a welcome one. God decided that I needed you, and He gave you to me, even though I didn't think I needed another baby for another year. I was wrong. I needed you, at exactly the time I had you. Know that, and take that with you throughout your life: You were exactly what I needed.

As I have watched your personality emerge over this past year, I can't help but marvel at you. You are so happy! You always have a smile on your face when you see me and you bounce up and down in my arms when I pick you up. I hope that you will always be happy to see me (even though I am sure I will embarrass the hell out of you when you are 15. Tough. That is what parents do). You adore your sister, and follow her around, even when she doesn't want you to. You are determined to make your place known. You clap when you see people you know and babble uncontrollably, as if to say "Hey! I'm here too!"

As you navigate the waters of your adolescence and high school, I just hope that if you have the choice to be happy or angry, you choose happy. I hope that you are kind to your sister (but I'm not holding my breathe), and good. Not perfect, I expect and hope that you get into some trouble (nothing too serious, please), but genuinely good - that you make choices now that you can live with for the rest of your life. And remember that men who are strong are not just physically strong - they are mentally and emotionally strong as well. Emotional and mental strength are difficult - they require knowing who you are and what you stand for - and I think that is harder than physical strength. Hope for courage, and always strive for honor.

I know that right now, at the moment you are reading this (not the moment I am writing this), life is hard for you. The teenage years are hard. Actually, they suck. And no matter how much you think you can't, I want you to know that you can come talk to me. About anything. I love you, no matter what you do or say.

I will always love you,

Mom