Are you there God? It’s me, Molly.
Alright, I am nowhere near the point of motherhood right now. Heck, I’m nowhere near the point of even committing to a nail color. But I figured I kind of need to plan a little bit ahead for my future beyond what I’m going to have for lunch. So, here is a prayer for my daughter.
God, I ask that you don’t give her any annoying allergies that would keep her from enjoying some of the finer things in life, like peanut butter or sunlight.
Bless her with musical talents. Not “I’m gonna audition for American Idol season 50” or “I’m dropping out of high school to become a pop star” kind of skill, more just as a way to express her self and impress her hippie mother.
May she feel free. It’s okay to laugh, smile and dance as often as she dang well pleases.
May she possess smart humor and quick wit so that she can come up with perfect anecdotes and comebacks in a timely fashion.
May she be a mover and a shaker… but not “twerk” kind of shaking.
We both know I won’t be much of a disciplinarian so grant her the common sense to say no to drugs and the cute older boys and crappy chick flicks she doesn’t want to waste her mother’s 10 dollars on.
Grant her an appreciation for nature, not materialism. May she climb mountains and breathe in the sweet air. May she never stress about breaking a nail. May she look up from whatever futuristic technology seems necessary at the time and realize the only necessary thing is to live and love.
May she realize that a bad hair day doesn’t mean a bad day.
May she embrace my embraces. Even in front of her friends. Because I will embrace her pleas for help on her science projects and rides to the movie theater, dang it!
May her joy be abundant and her attitude be minimal.
Grant her a generous and acceptable dose of angst. Just enough to make her not want to sit back and watch. May she stand up for what she believes in and what is right.
May her awkward stage provide her with an appreciative humbleness, not bitterness.
Grant her wisdom. May she choose to spend her time with people who build her up and in buildings that are structurally sound.
If Instagram is still a thing in her teenage years, may she never spend time during a concert to look for the right photo filter.
May her most frequent reading not be the nutrition facts label.
May she never be afraid to walk alone and like it, but to never walk alone at night or away from me when I’m talking to her.
May she never worry as much about her life as I will.
May she keep her heart guarded but not hardened. Grant her the gift of finding the goodness and running after it. May she always find hope in the light.
May she always go for the nice boys. The unassuming, funny guys. The ones who will appreciate her. So, pretty much, help her to learn from her mom’s mistakes.
For the love of You, may she be less of a scaredy cat than I am. That’s not genetic, right?
May she have the confidence in who she is and always know that she is unconditionally loved.
May she be better than I was.