Yesterday I got an email from a friend with this link:
http://melodygodfred.com/2011/04/15/a-mothers-prayer-for-its-child-by-tina-fey/
Telling me to read it. And she usally passes on only the good stuff but, I had a crazy busy day. Meeting after meeting. Papers to grade. Husband out of town. Not nearly enough sleep. And some looming deadlines.
So I didn't click right away.
Then not too long later I got the same link emailed from another friend. But they both know each other and I figured they had just sent it to each other, and kept passing it on.
But this time I bit. I clicked. And saw this picture.
And Tina did not disapoint.
A Mother’s Prayer for Its Child By Tina Fey
“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, dammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen.”
-Tina Fey
And I laughed outloud. And shouted out my own "Amens" and tried to pick a favorite line. I think it's a toss up between the grape cutting, that dry humping can wait, and the name calling in front of Hollister.
And this time made a note to watch some 30 Rock, buy her new book, Bossypants, and thank all three people that sent me link.
http://melodygodfred.com/2011/04/15/a-mothers-prayer-for-its-child-by-tina-fey/
Telling me to read it. And she usally passes on only the good stuff but, I had a crazy busy day. Meeting after meeting. Papers to grade. Husband out of town. Not nearly enough sleep. And some looming deadlines.
So I didn't click right away.
Then not too long later I got the same link emailed from another friend. But they both know each other and I figured they had just sent it to each other, and kept passing it on.
But this time I bit. I clicked. And saw this picture.
And if you have ever been in my house or seen my desk or met my daughter....maybe it wouldn't take much to look at this mess and think of me. (and I've been known to hide under a desk or two).
But still. My day was busy. I was reviewing like crazy for some big tests coming up and didn't take time to actually read the post. But I love me some Tina Fey and a good mess so I passed the link on to a few people even without reading. Making a mental note to read it later. Like during lunch.
And then, I got another email. From an unrelated third party. Saying they read this and thought of me immediately.
I figured it was time to read it. (and for lunch)And Tina did not disapoint.
A Mother’s Prayer for Its Child By Tina Fey
“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, dammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen.”
-Tina Fey
And I laughed outloud. And shouted out my own "Amens" and tried to pick a favorite line. I think it's a toss up between the grape cutting, that dry humping can wait, and the name calling in front of Hollister.
And this time made a note to watch some 30 Rock, buy her new book, Bossypants, and thank all three people that sent me link.
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