A Letter to my Future Daughter
Dear Future Daughter,
Hello there! This is your mom trying to be funny (I think) at age 25 on this really hot day of May in the year 2015.
Being 25 is hard. Being 25, working full-time and trying to balance career and everything else is hard. The nights are shorter, the days go longer. Everything seems crazy and it truly is. Did I mention that being 25 is hard?
I can already imagine you and your obnoxious voice while reading this. "Mom, don't embarrass me," Don't worry, you won't need any help from me in that department. Embarrassing stories are a dime a dozen when you get to this age.
Are you reading this from a really fancy levitating tablet or your extremely thin iPhone 17c (I hope the battery life is better by this time)? Or you're probably reading this from a hologram of unearthed internet files from the golden age of Social Media. Chances are, technology has progressed and you might not even need to talk to me anymore unless you need money. Maybe virtual parents are the rage by this time or have they replaced parenthood with a mobile app?
Well I'm here to remind you to talk to your parents in the flesh. Human interaction is super duper important. It's during this time that social networks have replaced get-togethers. People only see each other when someone dies (sad, I know) or when someone gets married. You're probably wondering why this is the case. Well young lady, everyone is terribly busy. They're too busy or too tired. Life can be tiring when you're an adult. You don't have the energy anymore to do all the things all at once. Sometimes sleeping is all that you want to do on a Friday night and that is the sad truth.
I am writing this letter because during this time in my life, everyone is getting babies, and I mean everyone. Suddenly, your mom is attending Christenings or 1st birthdays. Gone are the days when people only worry about what to wear to prom. Baby pics on Facebook (or I don't know what you kids have now) are a norm now. Engagement photos, wedding cakes, all of that jazz. It's like I was gone for a bit and when I came back, everyone went to an adulthood seminar and grew up.
To be honest, your mom is scared. I like babies but I never imagined having my own. Well, not now. Funny though because your grandma was 20 when she had me (and I guess we turned out fine???). I mean, being responsible for a living, breathing, infant terrifies me beyond anything. I am so scared that I might drop you or hit you in the head and I end up getting featured on those clickbait sites (You'll Never Believe What This Mom Did To Her Baby. What You Will See Will Terrify You).
Basically, what I'm trying to say is, I hope I turn out to be a good mom. I hope I am able to inspire you (or just keep you alive and not go hungry). I hope my cooking skills are decent and that I am feeding you superb food you can be proud of. My intentions are good and I am working my ass off to provide you a better life someday. I don't ever want you to work while studying or to sell stuff to get by. I am working real hard so we can go on trips in the summer and buy you your favorite Hello Kitty bag (I assume you're a cat person because you're my kid). I want to be super duper prepared for you and I think that's where the anxiety is coming from.
I might just need more time than most moms. By the time I have you, I want my focus to be on you and no one else.
Know that I love you already and that I can't wait to buy you your first pet so we both can take care of it (it's a beagle, surprise!). Oh, and by this time, I wanted to name you Clementine but things may change.
Your Very Weird Mom (but still very cool, I hope)