A letter to my son, on the occasion of his 18th birthday:

It’s quite unfathomable that you are 18 years old today. When you were first born, well-meaning people would tell me to enjoy it because it would pass so quickly. I did not believe them — and I was wrong. The past 18 years have moved at the speed of life and show no signs of slowing down. You’re a senior in high school and heading off to college in the fall, which is really the beginning of your launch into adulthood.

While this letter could easily veer off into the maudlin and sappy, I think you know me better than that. Plus? I save the maudlin and sappy for your grandmothers, who seem to need it more. It makes them happy and they obviously take comfort in it since you can’t remember to call them unless I tell you to.

I was not that much older than you are now when I became a mom. I think your childhood would have been far different had I been older, more prepared for the role. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I really didn’t know that I was doing probably 75 percent of the time. I think you’ve turned out pretty OK anyway, but I can’t take credit for it. (Don’t worry, Poppa does.) You were an easy baby, a sweet toddler, a pleasant child and a pretty cool teenager, except for those times I want to shake some sense into you. (Three words: text message overage.) And if it turns out that your childhood has somehow scarred you, you’ll some day have insurance that covers therapy — but don’t expect me to fork out the co-pay.

Eighteen is a huge milestone, sort of this quasi-adult age where you’re old enough to vote, drive and die for your country, but you can’t legally drink an alcoholic beverage before making the decision to do any of those things.

You may be a newly minted “adult” but you have a lifetime of learning still ahead of you. I hope you don’t mind me sharing a few — OK, 10 — things I think you should learn, things I think will be important to you throughout your life. (Son, I know you and know the likelihood of any of these things sinking in is pretty minimal, given that you can’t remember to turn on the dishwasher after I ask you three times in a row. Humor me and pretend they changed your life. I’ve got a major case of mommy brain and won’t remember writing this three days from now, so you’ve only got to fake it that long.)

1. Personal hygiene is underrated. Do us all a favor and bathe regularly (with soap). Change your socks and underwear daily. And for goodness’ sake, don’t recycle them because you were too caught up in WOW to do your own laundry.
2. You impress people more with what you don’t say than what you do say. Remember “who needs a brain when you have a mouth”? Sarcasm, sweetie. Sarcasm.
3. Some things are better done in the privacy of your bathroom or bedroom. You know those belching contests we sometimes have at the dinner table? Yeah, well, most people find that to not only be rude but disgusting. (I know! They totally have no sense of humor!) Learn how to discreetly excuse yourself to take care of business.
4. Everyone deserves to be treated with respect. Regardless of how they dress, look, act, what they drive, where they live or how they treat you. R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
5. No matter how bad you think you have it, someone’s got it worse. So quit whining.
6. You can’t change other people; you can only change how you respond to them. It’s not easy but sometimes it’s the only way to cope with an unpleasant relationship, whether it’s personal or professional.
7. Ignoring your problems doesn’t make them go away. Often, it just makes them bigger. You can’t solve something if you don’t deal with it.
8. If you want friends, you have to be a friend. Don’t just call your buddies to hang out when you’re single or your girlfriend is out of town. Maintain those friendships (with pals of both genders) because they fulfill you in ways a romantic partner doesn’t, and you need that no matter how old you are.
9. People are more important than possessions. Real people, not online folks in your Guild. That means you call home for reasons other than asking for money, food or something you left in your closet.
10. Do what you can to make the world a better place. Pick up trash on the sidewalk, support a charity that has meaning to you, keep volunteering, perform a random act of kindness as often as you can. If there is one thing I hope you have learned from me, it is this.

There’s lots more I could share with you, but I know your attention span is about as long as mine, which means you stopped reading somewhere around the third sentence. But I still love you, and I’m quite proud of you, even if you do keep leaving your stinky socks underneath the desk in the kitchen. Happy birthday, kiddo.

Love,
Mom

P.S. If I find any more socks under the desk in the kitchen, they’re going straight in the trash. You have a job; you can buy your own socks if you run out.