This is a picture of a 2-year-old me holding my very best friend, the doll I got for my birthday and named Baby Hat. I know it’s not possible, but if I could talk to 2-year-old me, this is what I would say:
You are not going to grow much taller than you are right now.
See that black-and-white TV on your right? Laugh at it. In 25 years, you’ll understand why.
Keep that silly pink hat on your head. You are going to need it to cover a horrible perm when you’re in the 7th grade.
You will never learn to cook.
Baby Hat is not a bad start, but you are going to get much better at naming babies.
You are going to marry the man of your dreams and live happily ever after.
You should take care of your skin.
I already know that you’re not going to, but don’t worry about it. When you start to wrinkle, your eyesight will fade, and it will all be good.
You will travel the world wide, but you will always love home the best.
You will survive childbirth, a car crash, and your first year of teaching, but wisely, you will never submit to having a root canal.
People will think you are weird, and they will be right. It’s okay, because all of your favorite people will be weird, too.
Put your head down and go.
Do the hard thing first.
Chocolate loves you.
You won’t remember anything I’m telling you, because you’re only two and do not have a memory bank yet, so you’re going to have to figure all of this out on your own. But don’t worry, you will.