Dear Elli,
Tonight you walked into the kitchen after dinner, took a very dramatic deep breath, and said: "My life is so hard!".
I'm serious. That's what you said.
I wanted to snicker and tell you all about life as an adult. I even thought about bringing up the starving children all over the world. Kids who don't get to go to preschool and make crafts out of pipe cleaners. Kids who don't have ballet lessons. You know, that sort of stuff. That's what my mom used to tell me. And I thought she was a total asshole when she did that.
So I thought about it. And I agreed with you instead. Your life is hard. Because everyone's life is hard. We all have our struggles. Our trials. Our tough choices.
It's really all relative. You have to spend all day doing what you're told. Figuring out all the letters of the alphabet. Counting. Coloring inside the lines. Keeping your hands and feet to yourself. Sharing.
That stuff is hard. And I'm not even being a smart ass. My earliest school memory is having to read aloud in first grade and not knowing the word "one". Sound that sucker out. You freaking can't. Because it doesn't make any sense. How does the letter "o" make a "w" sound? English is stupid.
I nearly had a cardiac episode over that nonsensical little word. I didn't want to be the dumb kid who couldn't read properly in front of the class. I don't like to be embarrassed. So I totally freaked out inside. I'm actually surprised I didn't die right there. With my level 2 reader still clutched in my cold, dead, 7-year-old hands. That was some stressful shit. I still hate the word "one" in print.
So I get it. Life is hard. You figure one thing out and then ten more things come out of the woodwork. Each one more complex than the last. I'm sorry. Life is hard. It's a real sonofabitch sometimes.
And I promised myself when I was a kid that I would never minimize my kid's hardships when I grew up someday. So I won't. And I won't say that I wish I had your struggles instead of my own. Because I already had those. And at the time, they sucked just as bad as my struggles today. Because it's all relative. Four years ago you couldn't talk, walk, eat real food, or even blow your own nose. I had to use that disgusting blue thing to suck the snot from your face. You've come a long way, Kid. And you've got a long way to go. But I'm proud of you. Because none of that was easy to learn. And you did it anyway. That's life. It's hard.
But it's worth the struggle. Because it helps you grow. And if you do this life thing right, you never stop growing. And learning. Which also means you never stop struggling. And that's OK.
50-Cent once said, "Sunny days wouldn't be special if it wasn't for rain. And joy wouldn't feel so good if it wasn't for pain. Death gotta' be easy, cause life is hard. It will leave you physically, emotionally, and mentally scarred".
And there's another valuable lesson for today. If anybody ever tells you that gangster rap has no value, you tell them 50-Cent is a lyrical freaking genius. And then pop a cap in their ass. (Totally joking about the cap popping. You should never pop a cap in anyone's ass. Ever.)
I love you. And I love life. Even though it's hard.
Mom
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