A Little Different

Someone wise once told me (OK, a very well paid therapist) that your past is what makes you who you are now. That's super neat and all but I had some big lumps to deal with (one them being my literal giant ass) and I know we all wish we could go back in time and coach & hug our younger selves in a nice "it'll be OK, girl!" kinda way. Well since Lo ate my fluxcapacitor, I'm back to square 1 and screwed on time travel.

However, if I could say things to Younger Brie and maybe pass on a few lessons to my babes this would be it -

Dear Brie at 6 Years Old - You are starting at St. Joseph's and about to meet some of the most amazing, lifelong friends to ever hold a Babysitter's Club Book. Their loyalty will blow you away year after year. You can go minutes, weeks, months without talking to them in the future. But when you're together....well, it's just like you're 6 and the only thing on the agenda that night is laughter. And wine. More on that later.

Dear Brie at 10 Years Old - Missouri is a cool place to move to, I swear! It may not seem like it now but this move will start building that nugget of belief in your heart that you have confidence. If you can bravely walk in to a school without knowing a soul in 400 miles and NOT be sporting the apparently-required Espirit bookbag while holding your head high, you can do anything.


Dear Brie at 14 Years Old - Your high school is filled with whores.....or is it? Don't fall prey to the "you're only cool if you...." temptation. Many years later, you'll find out that a lot of what you think happened between people didn't really. Everyone is insecure. Repeat: EVERYONE IS INSECURE. Fun fact: if you really want to piss off someone who is yelling in your face - stare at her dead in the eyes with no expression and then just walk away. I still hear that scream of disbelieving rage in my dreams....and I love it.

Dear Brie at 18 Years Old - You're on a slippery slope. Get your shit together. College is not for wasting your parents' money and using the cafeteria food as your own personal therapist. One day in the future, you will remember how much time, effort and cash you just dumped in to the tater tot tray and you will cry and no Natty Lite will make it better.

Dear Brie at 23 Years Old - You are doing it....sorta. You're a semi-adult. Now cut up all those eff'g credit cards and stop spending $$ you don't have. Pat is going to be SO mad. We don't know Pat right now but trust - when he is mad about money, it is NOT fun times. Also, learn about 401(k)s. Don't be ignorant.

Dear Brie at 25 Years Old Part 1 - You. Are. Pregnant. MOTHEREFF'G SNAKES ON A PLANE.

Dear Brie at 25 Years Old Part 2 - You. Are. A. Mother. And now you know what it all means.

Dear Brie at 26 Years Old Part 1 - Bitch, you are pregnant again. Do you not get how this works?

Dear Brie at 26 Years Old Part 2 - You are about to be more tired, more stressed, more more more EVERYTHING than you ever thought your mind or body was capable of dealing with. You will also love more than you think any human could possibly ever imagine (other moms will know). You will sob at how much you love those two boys and their daddy but still be so flabbergasted that SOMEONE forgot to defrost dinner. You will cope. You will deal. You will pull through just fine. You will meet other women that were always in the outer rings of your circle but now, you will really know them. And love them. You find even more unbreakable bonds but rather than grade school giggles, it's crying over births, sleeplessness, loss, stretch marks and more & more diapers and there is so much
laughing .......but......

Dear Brie at 27 Years Old - You will lose your job. You will think you are doing the right thing by being blatantly ambitious. It will not end well. You will fall apart. You will truly embrace the phrase "losing it". It will be painful. You will doubt yourself, hate those around you and any idea of pity directed your way will make you recoil in rage & embarrassment. It will pass. No seriously, put down that 7th gin & tonic.....It. Will. Pass.

Dear Brie at 29 Years Old - You're a mom again. You have a phenomenal family. Amazing friends. Very dry, limp hair. Please just cut it. You will. Bad idea. Dear God, is there no right answer to this lifelong dilemna?! You ain't done yet but you're doing good. Start using the Loreal Regenerist skin system. Find the money somehow. I hate you crows feet. Love, Older Brie