Dear Kid,

Once Upon A Time, I went to college. It was fabulous. (Don’t get me wrong—life before college was happy—but college is a little different.) I met great people, got to know New England winters, and I learned weird things like double entry accounting and that people from Kansas wore wool plaid shorts with knee-socks in the winter (both concepts took me years to understand). It was wonderful.

Then I went to graduate school. I was living in Manhattan with the World’s Greatest Roommate (Grandma Pat), I was going to school in Harlem, and I met wonderful people. We had group projects and Thursday Night Gatherings and I loved it. It was the happiest time of my life.

After graduate school, I landed my dream job. I traveled, worked on exciting projects, and enjoyed the freedom of being 20-something in New York City. It was the best time of my life.

Then I met Daddy and we got married. I had my best friend (we didn’t know how to say BFF back then) as my roommate and it was absolutely the best time of my life.

When you came along, things changed (for the better). I was exhausted (you were not known for sleeping) but you were the happiest, most wonderful person in the world, and I loved spending time with you (still do). It was magical and the best time I could possibly imagine.

We moved to the midwest and added Pi to the family. Watching the two of you was (usually) a joy. I couldn’t imagine anything better.

Eventually, you both grew out of diapers and naps and we were able to go on longer excursions. You went from being interesting babies to being incredibly interesting people. You taught us all sorts of things and it was by far the best time of my life.

As you got involved with sports, my life evolved again (yup, I became a soccer mom). I loved watching you play (except for the time when you almost got kicked in the head). I had a whole new dimension in my world and it was The Best.

Each step along the way has gotten more and more interesting. There have, of course, been bumps—some of them bigger than others. Some of them don’t seem too important now; some of them I’d still rather not think about. Would I trade them if I could? Probably not (except for the really bad spaghetti at Mammoth Cave when you were 2—no one should have to endure that). Even the car wreck that left its permanent fingerprint on my back helped make today…today. And today is the best time of my life.

As we move into the New Year, I wish you sweetness and health and happiness. I hope this year brings you the best time of your life—at least for now.

Shana Tova, kiddo,

Love, Mom