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12 Things I Want to Tell My Future 13-yr-old - Jennifer Pitt
Jennifer Pitt

12 Things I Want to Tell My Future 13-yr-old

When I look at my daughter, sometimes I am afraid of the teenager she is going to become. I mean, I know she is only 9 months old, but it’s a slippery slope to 13. Nobody who knows me would ever call me timid or meek; most of them are probably dying to see the 50 40-something to 13-year old showdown. I try to keep in mind that of course I am going to raise a perfect child into a perfect, respectful, honour roll teenager, but still – stranger things have happened.

In order to try to ward off the impending doom of slammed doors and I-hate-yous as her teenage hormones rage (at me), I wrote this letter that I will read to her through her bedroom door, and hopefully she will hear me over the screaming because I won’t let her go whatever it is that is completely inappropriate for a 13-year old.

Dear Daughter who is probably screaming at me right now,

You used to lay on the pillow on my lap and rub your eyes while you drank your bottle, and I would rub your head and eyebrows until you held my hand. Sometimes you look at me like I am crazy, but you know you love it.

You were always very independent but you used to cry sometimes late at night and would only stop if I held and rocked you. Not even daddy would do…it was only me.

When you started to want to stand at 7 months old you would turn to me or daddy, turn your whole body to us, and grab our hands to help you up, and to hold you up when you got there. We only dropped you a few times, so that bad mark in math is still totally not our fault.

Everywhere we went people would stop and talk to you, and you would give them this great big smile. See? You used to be endearing…

99% of the time I was pretty sure you were a crazy person in a tiny person’s body. I have a whole post planned on that topic.

You would laugh your head off whenever you saw my toes. A few times you tried to shove them in your mouth, but even I can’t let that happen.

You were always so excited to see us, when we came home, when we came to your room after a nap or in the morning – always. I am not expecting you to do that at 13….truth be told, it would be a little weird to pick you up at your school and have you kick your legs and blow raspberries at me.

Some days I really REALLY wanted you to go for a nap or to bed for the night, then five minutes after you were asleep I wanted to wake you up. No matter how bad or how long the day…5 minutes, EVERY time.

When we brought you home, I used to cry every time I gave you a bottle because I would stare at you and be reminded of how grateful I was – and still am – that you are here. And I remind myself of that gratitude every day.

You used to scream bloody murder while I got your bottle ready. Pretty sure you get that lack of patience from me your father.Thank god that didn’t last long…many times I wanted to just leave you there and cover my head with a pillow.

The day you started crawling I was so proud of you and so frightened for my belongings. I JUST got our living room together after you were born…now I have to take it all apart. C’est la vie.

The day you started mimicking us (January 15, 2014 – your fake cough was a harbinger of drama to come) was the day I realized I really could make you do anything. MUWAHAHAHAHA.

I am apologizing in advance for all the lying I am going to do to you (like telling you that you can take your feet off, but not until you’re 15) and how awesomely intelligent you are going to incorrectly think I am (like when you ask me how to make a window and I tell you to get some glass, wood, and nails); I am just a person, after all, who is going to make mistakes. And so will you, and you will make your own list of love for your daughter just like I did.

And don’t forget, kid….you are your mother’s daughter – just ask Nana.

Love Mom

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