October 3 marked the third anniversary of the day that Murphy Girl made her grand appearance into this world. As the date drew closer and closer, rather than feeling nostalgic or in disbelief that Murphy in the Middle was about to hit the three year mark, I felt shocked that she was only turning three. From her darling dictation to her mature posture, being in the presence of Miss Murph feels far more like being around a teenager than a toddler.
Our house was astir with pre-birthday chatter for weeks prior to the big day, but I couldn't seem to decide how to best celebrate. Then, when the right idea struck, it was oh-so-obvious. What was the perfect party for the little girl whose world revolves around Sofia the First, high heels, yipschticks (that's lipstick for those who don't speak Murp), and fancy dresses? A Perfect Princess (Pretend) Pajama Party, of course! Once I had the theme down and made a quick browse of Pinterest, my (and my super talented hubby's) creative wheels started turning on creating the perfect party for our prissy one.

Murphy's actual birthday fell on Thursday.

Her breakfast request? An entire Trader Joe's pretzel loaf for herself.

{With candles, of course.}

She celebrated with her school friends by sharing chocolate chip cookies

and came home wearing a crown 

(which, for Murphy, is pretty much no different that any other day.)

Lindsay had some time off the week leading up to the party which worked out perfectly as he planned to put his hands to work on the most proper princess abode. Here's a little peek at his work in progress:

While he was busy working with saws and hammers, I used the week leading up to the party to make many, many Target runs, prep for the art projects, and get a clear mental picture of how I envisioned things would look on the party day. I planned to keep the food simple and focus most of my planning on decor and activities. When Friday {PARTY DAY!} arrived, I was excited to see how the Princess Party vision I'd had would come to fruition. 

We completely cleared out a room 

and transformed it into a Pretty Princess Parlor.

Hair station.

Complete with hair chalk and glitter hair spray.

Make-up: a zillion shades of eye shadow, fairy dust for cheeks, and yipschticks.

Tootsie and finger painting and bedazzling.

Pink Treat Station.

Tasty Edible Art almond flavored cupcakes with buttercream icing.

The guests sipped princess punch which I served in plastic cups with lids 

I added a little magic wand slipped in with the straws for a princess-y touch.

Princess Party Favor Bags.

Included a tiara and a bracelet. The Princesses added their art projects, too.

Once everything in the house castle was set, King Daddy prepared the guests' entry way...

Murphy's Magnificent Princess Castle.

{Complete with drawbridge, moat, and ivy.}

Happily waiting for the party guests.

Not-so-happily waiting.

{Ahhh, life with Murph.}

Even had time to snap a quick pic of all three!

Princesses Eloise and Leighton arrived right on time.

(And Murphy had already changed back into her Black Swan attire.)

Pajama-clad Princess Eve wanted to 'pose' on the drawbridge,

while little sis, Princess Liza, peeked out from inside.

Pajama Party Princesses.

Group shot.

Once all the princesses had arrived, we headed inside Murphy's palace to commence the festivities. I gave the girlies a rundown of the evening's agenda and handed each of them a Princess Punch Card that would help them keep track of all the royal activities.

Card stock and a cut glitter ribbon to wear around the neck.

Adorned in the bottom corner with a princess-y photo sticker.

The Princess Parlor was a first stop for several of the princesses.

Princess Carter began with an Orbeez tootsie soak.

Leighton chose fun make-up colors and pink hair chalk.

Sizing up the Mirrored Murphy.

Princess Pookie getting a 'punch' between activities.

Busy artists hard at work designing their

Perfect Princess Paper Dolls.

Miss Liza proudly displaying her finished product.

Magic wand decorating.

Busy little birthday girl.

Once the princesses had completed all their princess-y tasks, they worked up quite an appetite. We took a break for pizza and punch. 

Caught our tutu clad Princess Helpers 

getting fancy themselves while the minies filled their tummies.

The birthday girl had been patient, but she was getting pretty antsy to dive into the cupcakes. After a serenade from her royal court, Murphy was more than happy to blow out her three candles. They're hard to see in the pic, but I came across these darling princess themed - a castle, a crown, and a star - candles at Target on the morning of the party.

Make a wish, Princess!

Murphy swiped my phone and took this pic during the cupcake eating.

Love this view from the pink piggie vantage point! 

Once the little ladies had consumed a birthday-party-appropriate amount of sugar, we headed to the living room for our princess movie. At the last minute, Murphy switched her selection from Sofia the First to Tangled. The girls agreed to pose for one more group pic before starting the movie. 

Seven little princesses eager for the movie to begin.

And with the Best princess helpers ever,

My Lilly and her friend Caroline.

Once the princesses were firmly distracted,

Baby Wright seized the opportunity to swoop in and swipe pirate's booty.

Princess Liza was unsure about the tiny princess encroaching on her space,

so she retreated to the safety of a chair.

Eloise and Murphy thoroughly enjoying the movie snacks.

Several of the princesses took a break from Tangled

to revisit the Orbeez.

Eve was giddy at the feeling of them between her toes.

And Murphy and Liza loved squishing the with their hands.

After a fun-filled couple of hours, it was time to bid farewell to all of our princess friends. The usually standoffish Murphy Girl surprised me by hugging each one of them goodbye. 

As the 'middle child', I often worry that Murphy will get caught up in the shuffle of a domineering big sis and a darling baby sis. It was such a joy to plan something tailored just for my Murph and an even greater joy to see her truly relish in all the princess fun. My wish for her is that she will she always feel as princess-y as she did on this day! 

Flying Solo

I’ve talked to many parent-friends, and we all agree: there are just some things that folks without kids just don’t get. Can’t get. Why does it matter that we are home (not en route to home) thirty minutes prior to nap time beginning? Why does going on a date 'night' at 4:00 PM makes total sense (both financially and logistically)? Why is it that sometimes we, parents, truly don’t care that our child is rolling around on the floor beneath our (not another patron’s) table at a restaurant? Why have we have rescinded nearly every, ‘When I have kids, they'll never...’ line that we ever piously declared prior to producing actual spawn of our own?
I think this whole idea is never as evident as it is when it comes to travel. I just stood in a security line at the airport, watching a woman, also flying alone, get increasingly more and more irritated at having to wait to be screened. She had (inadvertently, I suppose) stepped into the line that merged with the ‘family line.’ The folks in front of her had a child (one child) who was strapped into to a carseat that had one of those detachable handle thingys on it. They were fumbling for their boarding passes that were buried deeply within their overstuffed diaper bag, and the screener was making small talk with their little girl. None of this seemed out of the ordinary to me, yet this woman continued to get irritated, even glancing at me (I was in another line) and smugly saying, ‘Looks like a chose the wrong line!’ It was then that I realized: she so. doesn’t. get it. As I was waiting just feet away from her in the parallel security line, I already felt like I was on vacation!

{Perhaps the Zoo Pals sippy cup of vino that I sipped slurped 

in the taxi en route to the airport helped aid the onset  of my overly relaxed state.}

But, truly, I began to feel vacation-y even as I was packing! I mean, I only had to pack for one person, ONE! I did not have to think of diapers or bottles or sippy cups. No need to remember lovies or ponies or tutus or high heels (well, I actually did pack several pairs of high heels, but this time they were not made of plastic or purchased at Target!). I gave no thought to in-flight entertainment; my carry on contains no coloring books, no extra sets of clothes, no baggies of snacks, and no wipes.
When the taxi arrived to pick me up, I only had to think of carrying my own bags outside. I had no concern for folding strollers or installing car seats. I gave no thought to the traffic that surrounded the taxi during the drive. I hopped out of the taxi with a spring in my step, realizing that I had only to get myself through security and to my gate. The only potty breaks would be ones that I needed. As I navigated security, I did not have to keep my eyes constantly moving in different directions to be sure that none of my children had disappeared beneath the skirt of an unsuspecting traveler. When I popped into the ridiculously overpriced airport convenience store, I gave no thought as to whether or not my snack of choice would be sharable or just a mean temptation for my littles.
And now, here I sit at my gate, waiting for my plane which is, apparently, ten minutes or so late. And, what am I doing? Well, I’m blogging of course! Despite the hustle and bustle going on all around me, I haven’t felt this alone in weeks. The sense of serenity that comes with solitude is amazing. And that, my friends, is the most freeing feeling imaginable. I realize that I’m about to board a plane where I will sit for two hours, and I CAN READ A BOOK! Or not. I can watch a movie, a real movie with naughty words and everything! I can do WHATEVER I WANT. I can order a drink, any kind I want!, and not have to weigh the risk ratio of the girls possibly flipping my tray-table and spilling it all over us all.
When the flight touches down in NYC, I will be reunited with my hubby who is meeting me after his flight from his work week in Oklahoma. This will be our first real getaway in over two years (and I’m definitely not counting the single night away in February of 2012 that may or may not produced the cutest little OOPS! you’ve ever seen...). I’m so looking forward to us just being together, alone. We will be able to finish sentences, participate in conversations, and relish in silence. I can’t wait to sleep in, to eat an entire meal in a single setting while it's still hot, to drink (and drink) and maybe drink some more.
What’s funny is that, as much as my non-parent friends couldn’t possibly understand why a musky taxi cab and a busy airport can feel as much like a vacation as a lounge chair by clear blue waters, it’d be equally impossible for them to get that after a few days of this actual getaway, I’ll wish sticky hands were pulling on my skirt as I get ready for dinner. I’ll flip through the stations on the TV in our swanky hotel room, stop on Disney Junior, and quietly hope a new episode of Sofia the First is playing. I’ll notice that I'm choosing my outfits based on what my two and three quarters year old stylist would suggest. I’ll find myself looking at the sites and thinking of how much my biggest girl would love to be here. I’ll miss waking up to the increasingly loud sounds of squealing and jabbering and early morning baby snuggles.

Before I know it, I’ll be missing the chaotic place 

that we fondly call ‘home’ more than I can explain.

But, until then, I'll just sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight...

A Love Letter for My Littlest

My Precious Wrighty Pie,
Can I tell you a little secret? Before you were born, Mommy and Daddy weren't sure if we wanted to have a third child. I even said to myself (and to a few trusted friends!), 'We have two wonderful, yet uniquely different, little girls. I can't picture what having a third child, potentially a third girl, could add?' As I look at you, my beautiful nine month old baby girl, I simply cannot imagine life without you. Really, I can't even comprehend that our family was a family before you joined us. You, my Precious Angel, have completed us.

Our first interaction with each other in the outside world, was your first sleepy nursing session after you were born. I remember you being so tiny that it felt like I was holding a little doll's head in the palm of my hand as you ate. Those first few days were challenging -- for me, I mean. You, My Dear, were a champion eater from the get-go! Upon seeing one of Mommy's battle wounds, Daddy even commented that if men had to breastfeed then all babies would take bottles! But we got through it, you and I, and we settled in at home to begin our journey together.

The beginning of our love story.

Our home in your early weeks was not what I would describe as calm; your two big sisters made sure that having a new baby in the house would in no way hinder their rambunctious activity. So, Mommy began to see our nursing sessions (though still quite painful for me for the first few weeks) as peaceful moments in the midst of our crazy days. Even in the middle of the night when I would hear your little squeak (never a cry) coming from the Moses basket, I was happy to scoop you up for eating and snuggling. Sometimes, I would let you fall asleep on my chest for a couple of hours before the big girls were ready to start their day. The soft brushing of your little peach fuzzed head against my cheek is a feeling I'll never forget.

Sunday afternoon nap for us both.

Week by week, nursing got easier for Mommy, and with the physical ease came an even greater opportunity for our bonding. By Christmas you were staying awake more and more, and when your sweet gaze met mine during feedings, my heart crumbled into a million pieces.

A break from eating to flirt with Mommy.

Because having three kiddos is a lot of work, nursing was pretty much the only time during the day that Mommy actually sat down. And, because you were always such a perfect baby, who was content just watching all the goings-on around you, this was also pretty much the only time I really held you. We would often be joined on the sofa by Carter or Murphy who'd be 'feeding' their babies -- or, more than once, trying to feed you!

Murphy Girl playing Mommy.

As you got older, you'd become more active and distracted while you were eating. If Daddy was around, you were quick to make a head turn in his direction, flash him your million dollar grin, and then get back to the business of eating. You nursed well through sickness and on airplanes, yet you were still willing to take an occasional bottle if Mommy needed to be away during your feeding time.
For the past several months Mommy has been having some problems with recurring infections, and, to keep you healthy, your doctor has strongly encouraged me to make a transition to baby formula and bottles. Mommy has always been of the opinion that nursing ends whenever either party is ready for it to be over. I don't think that either you or I are ready, but the end is here nonetheless.
You and I have been on remarkable journey together, a journey that is coming to an end a little sooner than either of us expected. I will miss the sweet little growling sound you make when you are dozing off at feeding time.

Sleepy sweetheart.

I'll miss the way you twirl my necklace in your long fingers and the way you outline my lips and teeth with those fingers. I will miss our lingering gazes; when I look into your eyes, I feel like I've known you forever.

Full belly. Happy baby.

Even though you don't have the words to articulate how it feels, I know this transition will be hard for you, too,  I promise to make time for special snuggling sessions and to find moments to gaze into those eyes. I know that you don't need to drink Mommy's milk to feel Mommy's love. You are my baby, my last baby, and I feel a sadness that's incomprehensible - even to me - at this ending. During your bedtime feeding last night, I shared many of these feelings with you.

Your sweet eyes stared right at me.

I could almost hear you saying, 'Don't cry, Mommy.'

Thank you for allowing me to be your Mommy. Thank you traveling this journey with me. Forgive me for having to end it sooner than either of us would like. Know that I did my absolute best for you and always will.
I love you more than words can express,
Mommy

The Sweetest Things, Q2

Life is good today. I'm smack-dab in the middle of one of the most productive weeks I've had in who knows how long.  I've been working through to-do lists that I've had for months, organizing and editing digital photos, ordering a zillion photo prints to fill our albums, and enjoying a general feeling of being 'on top' of things. All this productivity has created a perfect time for me to pause and reflect on life lately.
The Sweetest Things of the second quarter of 2013...

1. Baby Boom...though still an itty bitty in terms of size, Baby Wright has gone from being a newborn to a fun, playful, sweet baby during these past few months. She's blabbering and giggling and sitting (not yet on the move) and wiggling and eating and interacting. Big Sister Carter loves getting a laugh out of her; Murphy often joins her on my lap to 'love on her'; and Lindsay and I are eager and happy to be the one who gets to hold her when she becomes irritated in the stroller or highchair. What's been especially fun during the past few months is seeing our sweet girl in action with other babies. Her girlfriends, Malone and Emerson, made their appearance in the world a littler earlier than she did. While Maddex, Kennedy, and Henlee gave her a few months to get a lay of the land before they came on the scene. I so look forward to watching all these littles grow up and feel so fortunate that Baby Wright already has quite a group of besties! 
   
   Malone (9/17/12), Emerson (10/1/12), Maddex (3/22/13)
   Kennedy (4/13/13),  Henlee (5/22/13)
2. Major Milestones...for Carter the second quarter of the year meant meeting milestones and celebrating accomplishments. In April, she turned the big 0-5 which meant a princess and superhero themed birthday party for all of her favorite people. On the evening of her birthday, she informed us that she'd like to stay five forever and earnestly voiced her request to God during her bedtime prayers that night. (I can't say I'd be disappointed if her wish was granted...) 
   
   FIVE!
   With turning five came the anticipation of kindergarten in the fall but not before an official graduation from preschool. Lindsay and I beamed as we watched our firstborn enthusiastically participate in the musical portion of the graduation ceremony (we're still unsure whether or no the other kiddos opted not to do the motions to the songs or if she was just making up her own!). I was surprised one night in early May when she randomly recited The Lord's Prayer (I'm talking King James' style complete with hallowed and trespasses) and loved hearing her say the classic prayer in unison with her classmates. 
   
   The lil graduate.
   
   So proud of herself.
   
   Crazy about the one who made us parents.
   As extra-curriciulars go, Carter has dabbled in soccer, ballet, and tap, but only gymnastics has remained a constant. She both enjoys it and seems to have a bit of natural talent. She challenges herself and has been focused on mastering her split (almost!) and perfecting her cartwheel. Before taking a break for the summer, she participated in an exhibition and was more than thrilled to earn her first (ever) real trophy. 
   
   Straight legs! Tight arms!
   
   Demonstrating how her strooooooong
   muscles help her rock-out her gymnastics.
   As summer drew near, Carter also mastered the two-wheeler, began swimming (actual swimming which is a relevant distinction when comparing this to what she had formerly called 'swimming'), and excitedly rode the bus to attend a big kid day camp. Watching my biggest girl thrive, grow, excel makes me all kinds of happy!
3. Lazy Summer Days...school for the big girls ended in mid-May. Though we had several trips planned as well as a few camps lined up, I'll admit that I was approaching summer with a bit of dread. I had visions of them spending all day bickering and whining while I'd just be wondering at what point in the day it would be acceptable for me to engage in little wine-ing of my own. I must say, I was pleasantly surprised with the way our summer began to unfold. It was refreshing to begin our days on our own time without the mad rush to get lunches packed and head out the door. I'm one of the lucky (and rare, it seems) moms who has little ones who actually enjoy sleeping in. Several mornings, all of us (baby included!), slept till nearly 9:00 and then took our time getting moving. We've enjoyed lunches at the pool, movies on rainy afternoons, and catching fireflies in the dark.
4.  Keeping Up...for as much as I see modern technology as being both a blessing and a curse, for me, the best part of it all is the forum it creates for staying connected. Having lived in three states in the last seven years, I have friends all over the place. I don't imagine those friendships would have easily been maintained prior to the email/text/FaceBook era. As much as I love a good chat, carving out a quiet moment for a phone call is next impossible. And it seems that lately I've heard more and more of my friends say that they aren't good on the phone (truth: I don't really get what that means!). In the midst of all the busyness that accompanied this season, I've managed to stay caught up on the goings on of my loved ones while waiting for the camp bus, driving (when a phone call is best, I love Bluetooth!), and nursing the baby (yay for iPhone multi-tasking!). 
5. Murphyisms...it's no secret that Murphy Girl has been on her own agenda since the day she came into this world. Lately, though, her hilarity, quick wit, and down-right darlingness have been on display more often than her naughty, stubborn shenanigans.
   
   Walking the dog while visiting
   'Great Great Great Ganpa'.
   One thing's for sure: Murphy has a way with words. 'Yea, I'm am,'  is a favorite Murphyism which she says in response to any typical 'Are you...?' question. 'Sorry 'bout dat,' is a little quip she casually says, often after spilling or breaking something. This one is especially cute when followed up with, 'It was a accident,' which is often accompanied by her signature shoulder shrug. With Murphy, the real humor comes not so much in what she says but how she says it. Perfect example: a sweet 11 year old cousin was sitting beside Murphy at a family gathering back in May. She was minding her own business and had actually been doting on the three girls all day. Murphy looked over at her, and, with all the seriousness her two and a half year old self could muster, threatened, 'I'll break-a your arm...' Why? Neither I nor the potential tween victim had any clue. Yet, this phrase - that would sound horrible coming out of most anyone's mouth - sounded beyond comical in her little Murphy dialect.
   
   Cousin Emerson holding Baby Wright.
   (Does this look like a child who's accustomed 
   to being threatened with physical harm by a toddler?)
   After hearing me scold Carter more than once about trying to manage the Murph, Murphy ignored Carter's nagging, looked up at me, and said, 'How 'bout you just handle me, Mommy?'
   
   So representative of their relationship.
   Upon hearing Baby Wright crying in the other room, she scurried to her side, calling, 'Hold on, Wrighty Pie! Murphy-Mommy's coming!' on her way.
   
   Lovin' on Baby Wright.
   At bedtime, when she's sure to be wearing a princess dress and high-heels (yes, even to bed), her 'God bless' list includes 'eyeball, the cockadoo, and crazy.'
   
   Dressed for nappy time.
    Dare I say we're coming out on the other side of all the Murphy melodrama? Probably not. But at least she's providing plenty of comic relief along the way! 

Sweet. Sweet. Sweet. 

My little corner of the world is just filled to the brim with the Sweetest Things.

Fifteen

One week ago, I turned 35 years old. This birthday felt big to me, strangely much bigger than 30 felt. What's interesting, though, is that as this birthday approached, I found myself thinking much less about turning 35 and much more about the birthday I celebrated 20 years ago. As insane as it is for me to realize, 20 years ago I turned 15. I keep thinking about that 15-year-old girl and all the things I wish I could tell her...
Hi Beautiful! {Yes, I'm talking to you.}
It will be a long time before anyone ever calls you that and even longer before you feel it for yourself. But, trust me, beautiful you are.
Fifteen... And, yet, I know all you can think of is turning 16. You perceive all the other girls as being so much more mature; seeming to have it all together; seeming to know who they are. You feel like you're in some weird 'in between' stage - not a kid anymore but not grown up either. You struggle to play a role of who you think you're supposed to be or how you think you're supposed to act. Fifteen will be a hard year for you, and I'd like to share a little advice from someone who knows you pretty, pretty well.
Be YOU. And, yes, I do know you're still trying to figure out who you is. You know that little voice inside that whispers to you when something feels right or screams at you when it doesn't? Listen to it. You'll find that you are the happiest when your inside matches your outside, when there's a congruence between how you feel and how you act.
Relax. No, really. Relaaaaaax. Can you believe that you will take yourself and your life more seriously in these next couple years than during any other time of your life? Why? I can't say for sure beyond the fact that teenage emotions and hormones are kind of nutty. Things, all things, seem very serious right now; but believe me, Sweetheart, they are not.
Show kindness to everyone. Sometimes I've noticed that you get wrapped up in your own little clique even to the purposeful exclusion of others. But in your heart (that little voice I told you about) you are a sweet girl, and treating people unfairly has never felt quite right to you. Don't just treat others as you'd wish to be treated; treat them even better.
Smart is a good thing. Somewhere along the way, you seem to have gotten the idea that you can't be both smart and popular. I've even seen you act dumb at times. Girlfriend, there's nothing cute about stupid. This is an easy fix, though! You're a bright girl; anyone who expects you to dumb-down really doesn't deserve your time. (Trust me on this one. You'll really come to regret not doing your best in school when college applications come around.)
Boys are silly. Especially teenage boys. Don't spend one second of your life thinking about that boy who doesn't seem to want to give you a second glance. And for goodness sakes, dry those eyes! There's not a single boy you know who's worth your tears, Sweetie! (And when THE perfect fella does show up, you'll realize that he was totally worth the wait.)
Now, I've focused a lot on what's on the inside, and, no doubt, it is what's most important. However, we both know that the outside matters, too. So, My Dear, let me give you just a few tips on that front.
Hair. This is a biggie. I know how you envy the gals with the perfect hair, the hair that is completely unaffected by humidity and looks perfectly adorable in a randomly placed pony. Darling, that is not your hair. The sooner your accept this fact, the sooner you can move on to making the best of a not-so-great gene pool in the hair department.

1. Just because Fantastic Sam's has a coupon for a free hair-cut doesn't mean you should cash it in. Seriously. 
2. Pantene Pro-V will not do anything close to what it does on those tv commercials. It most deinitely does not create 'hair so healthy it shines.'
3. Invest in a good flat iron and learn to use it. (They'll get better and better over the next few years.) Cash all those babysitting checks you've been stacking up on your desk. There's no greater use of your money. 
4. Find a good salon (not Fantastic Sam's - I cannot stress this enough) and visit regularly. Ask for product recommendations and use them. 
5. You do not have to settle for the shade of mousey brown that your hair has turned over the past few years. A great stylist (see #4) can return you to your childhood blonde. A box purchased at Walmart, however, cannot. Don't even try. 
   
   NOT EVEN ONCE.
   {Orange hair flatters no one.}

Clothes. This one is a little tricky. The absurd dress code at school makes compiling a stylish wardrobe a tad precarious, but it can be done. Here are a few basic tips to get you started.

1. Avoid all sweatshirts that are decorated with furry animals, holiday motifs, or Disney characters. And for goodness sakes, no 15-year-old should be wearing a shirt embossed with puffy paint! 
2. Just because something's on sale, doesn't mean you should buy it. Even if it's at The Gap.
3. Those cheerleading uniforms are just hideous. If you insist on being a cheerleader, at least take that thing off before you go out in public. NO ONE WILL THINK IT'S COOL THAT YOU'RE A CHEERLEADER IN A SKIRT THAT LONG. 
4. Choose things that look good on you, not things that look good on your friends.
5. Take a friend who will tell you the truth (and who wants you to look good) shopping with you. Your mom is great at a lot of things, but fashion is not her strong suit. Take special advantage of your friends who have older sisters.
   
   Never. Borrow. Your. Mom's. Clothes.

Make-up. Wear it. It's pretty simple. Just take a little time to look your best each day. I know how hard it is for you to wake up in the mornings, but ten minutes to apply power, blush, mascara, and lip gloss is time well spent. This is another area that is worth a little investment. You can go cheap on the mascara, but spend a touch more on other things. It's worth it.
Sweetie, I wish I could save you all the heartache that comes with growing up, but I'm afraid it's just a part of life. Maybe it makes you feel better to know that all those people who seem to have it all together are just as confused as you are. And, can I let you in on a little secret? In about 15 years, something called FaceBook (It's a social networking site. On the internet. Never-mind.) will come around, and you'll see for yourself that the cutest boys and the most put together girls in this microcosm of high-school haven't turned out exactly as you might have expected.
I promise your life evolve in ways far greater than you could have even imagined. Things may not happen on the exact timetable you expect, but, believe me, it will all be worth the wait. And, just for fun, here's a little peek at yourself on your thirty-fifth birthday.

Were you expecting a jean jumper and gray hair?

(Looks like you finally mastered the mane!)