Dear 25 Year Old Me

{This is kind of like a distant cousin to the "Dear 12 Year Old Me" post found HERE}

I turned a quarter of a century old last month and so to honor my surviving this long, I figured I'd share a few of the things I've learned over the years. Exciting, eh?

Oh, and let the record show that these come in no other order than what pops into my head first. Not that it's important. Just lettin' ya know.

So, without any further ado. . .

. . .

Dear 25 year old me,

{sorry-- this pic was the most up-to-date I had. I was proving that I wore skinny jeans despite swearing I never would :D}

-- Don't dress your kid in the cutest outfit she owns in preparation for an impeding road-trip before she eats breakfast. Also, don't give said child a waffle with Nutella instead of peanut butter on accident. While peanut butter makes a holy mess, Nutella is much, much, much, much worse. The outfit won't stand a chance once she rips her bib off halfway through the meal.

--Speaking of Nutella and cute clothes: laundry never ends. 'Nuff said.

-- Honesty is always best, even if you're tempted to cover your seemingly innocent tracks with a white lie. It easier to just tell the truth in the first place. Trust me, yo.

-- Childbirth hurts. Epidurals are wonderful. . . until one of your legs starts to slide off the bed and you can't stop it under your own power {funny story}. 

-- You'll never really be good at doing hair; your own or anybody else's. So when you finally get your hair cut into an A-line, enjoy it. Don't try to grow it out. It will drive you bonkers and remind you why you cut it short to begin with. Besides, drying long hair takes a small eternity.

-- Seeing a big fat hairy spider will always skim a solid year off of your lifespan.

-- You'll never be a "Billy Bad Ace" because you die a little inside anytime anyone gets mad at you or shows any measure of displeasure in your actions. So stop pretending to have feisty conversations with the bum-heads on the freeway and the people who leave their shopping cart parked in the middle of the aisle at the grocery store. You and I both know you'll never actually say anything to them.

-- Your legs will always be pasty white. Sorry.

-- The best of friends are hard to find, but good people are everywhere. Enjoy them!

-- If you give a child a bite of your cookie, you thereby forfeit the entire thing. Same thing goes for ice cream, brownies, any candy bar known to mankind, and virtually anything with any trace of sugar content.

. . . . .

 Heaven only knows what another 25 years will teach me. ;)