All day long, I've been trying to think of something to blog about. Its not that I don't have a lot going on in my life right now. Its just that some of it is really too boring to subject anyone else to, and some of it is not really available to talk about just yet.
And then on the way home from our family activity tonight (the last 45 minutes of which my lovable sons spent complaining about how bored they were... could they just go wait in the truck with the stereo?...c'mon, Mom, lets GO already!), I had the radio on, tuned to one of my favorite stations. (Yes, I like country music. I also like the Denver Broncos, campfires and pork and beans. Don't hate. I'm quirky like that. he he) Somehow over the (ongoing) whining of my children, I managed to hear a new song, "Letter To Me" by Brad Paisley. The writer of the song is asking himself what he'd write if he could write a letter to himself at 17. I want to go on record now as saying I. LOVE. THIS. SONG.
Anyway, it got me to thinking. If I could tell my teenage self something, anything... what would it be? All of the drama we've experienced with Jock since he started high school certainly has brought back memories. Some good. Some would have been better off having been blocked much longer than they were.
So... here's my letter to myself. (*all names have been shortened to initials, to protect the innocent --yeah right! They've been changed, but they aren't all innocent!)
Dear Younger Sports Mama,
First, because I know what a suspicious person you really are, even though you try like hell to trust everyone.... you'll know this is me because I can reference that calendar you used to keep on your wall. I know the significance of it. Hopefully, no one else did.
First off, I'm gonna tell you right now.... when DJ* tells you he doesn't think you should wear any make up to school... ignore his sorry butt! He didn't even go to the same school you did, so how would he have known anyway?
The best way to tweak the nose of your geometry teacher and keep him on his toes? Actually go to class and do the work. Trust me, he won't know what to think of that.
The boy that looks like Tom Cruise? JUST WALK AWAY. And don't look back. At all. Ever.
Don't go driving around after prom with someone who took one of your friends --not you--to the dance itself. The friendship you will lose for that is worth more than those couple of hours.
Definitely make more time for oatmeal cookies and orange juice on Friday nights at BJ's*.
Spend more time trying to understand your brother, Rodeo Cowboy, and less time trying to discredit him. And for the love of all that is holy.... Do not park your car behind his truck. EVER. He never looks when he's backing up. Ever. But even before that, hide your car keys somewhere he won't be able to find them. Because that boy will be able to drive at 14.
And while we're talking about Rodeo Cowboy, don't introduce him to MC*. She turns out to be quite the skank. And an evil one, to boot.
Remember that taking Baby Brother with you means you can actually still go Trick or Treating in high school! People will give you candy, too if you walk up to the door with him!
Please.... learn to cook something other than scroodles!
Don't be so quick to dismiss people who don't fit your preconceived notions. Trust me on this, since your future husband will rely on this!
But most of all, know that there are so many amazing things waiting for you when you grow up. You'll go places you didn't think you would. You'll do things you didn't think you would. You will make many mistakes, but you will learn from them.
Well, you'll learn from most of them, anyway. :)
PS: You can stop thinking of names for baby girls now.
Well, that's most of what I'd write. There'd be some more mushy stuff, probably, because that's the way I am. :)
What would you tell your younger self?