Dear 5 year old me: I know you hate going to the doctor. But please stop running out of the building and hiding under the cars in the parking lot at your checkups. One day you will have a 5 year old boy named Aidan who needs to be physically restrained by two or more hygenists when he goes to the dentist. (Speaking of dentists: you do not have all of those cavities. Your dentists will later be arrested for an overcharging scheme and became famous in Detroit as “Fill and Bill.”)
Dear 8 year old me: I know your mom won’t let you have any sugar snacks at home so you have to go over to friend’s houses for Twinkies. Don’t worry. She will later learn that carob and dried fruit and Shaklee snacks do not have any less sugar than Frosted Flakes.
Dear 11 year old me: Stop talking back to your mom and slamming doors. One day you will have a daughter named Lauren who will do the same thing to you. Also, that lead role you got in the middle school play will be the highlight of your acting career so enjoy it now. And keep up with the dancing classes. 8 years of jazz lessons will be very helpful when you take Zumba classes at the JCC.
Dear 13 year old me: Sorry about the Bat Mitzvah. I know everyone laughed when you tried to sing the high notes during your Torah portion. But guess what? You will actually have a son one day named Sam who can sing. Like, for real. Also, spend time with your grandparents. They won’t be around forever and even though you want to be with your friends, don’t forget about them.
Dear 16 year old me: Hey, you are finally driving! I know you are embarrassed that it is in a giant blue Grand Marquis Mercury, but don’t worry, when you grow up, you will get to drive a giant “dark cherry” Honda minivan. Which is incredibly cool in the year 2013.
Dear 18 year old me: Do not cry about graduating high school and leaving your friends. Trust me when I say you will be friends with them forever. Also, college is way more fun than you can ever imagine. Enjoy every second. Also, enjoy that body now. Those small hips and perky boobs will fall apart soon enough. And then you will end up doing plastic surgery, diets, actual exercise, cleanses, and, ultimately, sitting at a party with women in bubble wrap hoping that you will sweat off those extra pounds.
Dear 21 year old me: Sorry to wake you up from your drunken stupor, but you are actually legally allowed to drink now. So you can throw away your Edith Anne Gelardi fake ID. Also, I know the family is moving to Arizona and you don’t want to go, but I’m telling you, it will work out. Also, yes, go to law school. Stay in school for as long as possible to avoid growing up. But, stop taking out those loans to supplement your shopping and partying (and also to pay for that trip to Europe). You will literally still be paying for that when you are 40.
Dear 25 year old me: Keep having fun and stop worrying about finding someone and getting married. It will happen. Enjoy this part of your life before you settle down. It all goes way too fast.
Dear 28 year old me: Yep, you are pregnant and it is a boy. Don’t worry, you will only throw up for 3 months and then you will gain 50 pounds. Your body won’t change at all.
Dear 30 year old me: Sam is still sleeping. Enjoy some morning loving because that will turn into your little girl.
Dear 40 year old me: yes, I know you have 3 kids. But say yes to that Addams Family tour for Sam. Trust me. It will change your life. You will have a lot of time on your hands to think. It will cause you to re-evaluate your entire life: your job you have held for 15 years, your priorities, and to figure out what you really always loved doing the most in your life. You will start to think about leaving a legacy and making a difference and spending this part of your life dedicated to doing what you want and not what everyone else wants you to do.
Dear 41 year old me: May 3, 2013, earlier today: do not buy that candy-coated popcorn from Costco. You think that only the kids will eat it, but really, you will not be able to stop.