For Juliette: A Love Letter You May (still) Hate, (for now.)

Nov. 24, 2019

I wrote the letter that follows today’s entry, to Juliette, exactly five years ago, one day before her 11th birthday. It’s interesting to look back to see what’s changed, what hasn’t and what will likely never change.

There’s so much in the past five years, no one could have ever predicted, but we walk through and not around. This is something I so love about you and our little family. 

You are without question, one of the smartest, most empathetic and beautiful human beings I know. I’m not even being biased about it because I’m your Mom.

Tomorrow, you turn 16. This is an age I’ve been warned about from many sources. I don’t know, but I am really enjoying this time with you and witnessing all of the many ways you’re blossoming into an extraordinary young woman. (Okay, but you still live under my roof and follow the rules!)

While you’ll always be my baby and the one who made me a mother, I respect the very mature young person you’ve shown yourself to be.

And I won’t even get started on your singing. Your vocal gifts blow my head off of my neck. When others compliment you, believe them.

I love you endlessly and this is something I know you know. I’m so grateful that no matter what doubts we may have, we never doubt that one essential fact.

Happy Sweet 16! I hope our homemade Ramen and purple cake will bring you joy. You know that experiences are everything and stuff is just, well… stuff.

Love,

Mom


Continue reading “For Juliette: A Love Letter You May (still) Hate, (for now.)”

A Love Letter Redux to Juliette

The original letter I wrote to Juliette four years ago can be found here – “For Juliette: A Love Letter You’ll Hate (For Now)”. I write my daughters fairly often, but this one stands out and serves as a sort of unspoken grading tool for how I am doing as a mother. I give myself a “C” grade as a mother, but the important lesson here is that I don’t accept my own “C” grade. I trust the trustworthy people in my life instead. Continue reading “A Love Letter Redux to Juliette”

Philanthropy is Phly: not Phancy

Every so often, I see myself as a Jewish version of Ann Romano from the 70’s sitcom, One Day at a Time, only, I’m without a Schneider. While this periodic thought gives me (and sometimes others) a good chuckle, it’s pretty spot on.

My daughters and I could really benefit from a Schneider, and sometimes, I daydream about having a Schneider-type nearby, only he doesn’t look like the actor, Pat Harrington, not that there was anything wrong with Pat Harrington’s looks. My fix-it guy is more like Schneider Jackman. He fixes everything, sings, dances, has a fine Australian dialect and is a philanthropist.

Continue reading “Philanthropy is Phly: not Phancy”