I’m working on writing a book of letters to my daughter. I just started.This is what I have.
(This is me when I was in Kindergarten I think)
Dear Audrey,
I’m writing this as if you’re older than 7 years old. That’s how old you are now. 7 years and almost 4 months to be more precise. You wont always be 7. Someday soon you’ll be a teenager and you won’t think I know anything. I’m not writing for that age either. I’m writing for another stage. A stage that happens later. It’s a stage that happens when daughters become mothers. That’s when we realize that our moms were kind of smart. At least that’s what I’m hoping happens for you and I.
Actually, I’m hoping you always think I’m smart. It could happen. But in case it doesn’t, I’m going to save this for when you get there.
My mom was a superwoman when I was your age. Well, except for the fact that I hated how she fixed my hair. I wanted it to look like the girls at school who had their hair feathered back from their face. Mom always just curled my hair under on the ends and had it cut in a short bob. I wanted long hair. We had lots of arguments about hair. I cried about my hair a lot. I don’t know if that’s normal or not. It was my normal.
Even with all my mom’s superpowers, I didn’t fully appreciate them until your older brother was born. That’s when I became a mom.
And now I’m considering getting my hair cut into a short bob.
P.S. Just wait until I tell you about a brutal torture process women willingly went through when I was a child called “getting a perm”. It’s going to blow your mind!
I’m working on a book of memoirs from when I was growing up. It’s fun recalling those times, isn’t it?
And I was very surprised to see your hair the same color as Audrey’s. You look good with it blonde, though.
Haha! Well, it keeps getting more gray and going lighter is an easier way to cover the gray. However, I’m considering going back to a darker color. That means more upkeep on the roots though….