Dear Emma: This week you’re turning 7. And with the rate of maturity acceleration these days, I expect that you’ll soon be interested in boys, makeup and the other things of teen/tween/pre-tween ilk — much quicker than I’d prefer. And it also means that my IQ is going to take a huge hit (at least in your eyes) in the very near future, and I’ll have next-to-no credibility for the next, oh, say 10 years.

So there are a few things I’d like to tell you while you still might listen to me. Some are things my parents told me (and I should have listened) and others are lessons that life taught me along the way. Of course none of this means that you won’t have life teach you a few things – everyone takes their individual lumps – but I hope some of it might be of use to you as you make your way.

First of all, I love you. I love you in a way that is wholly independent of achievement, success or making the ‘right’ decision. As with many first born kids, you seem intent on making everything perfect—and nothing is *ever* perfect. When you’ve got a tough choice, please know that I’ll be in your corner NO MATTER WHAT decision you make, no matter what the outcome.

It’s okay to change your mind.

Instructions for most things are optional – but don’t mess with chainsaws.

If you have to ask yourself if you’re wearing too much makeup, you probably are.

Try hard to love yourself. You are an amazing person. Some will recognize that and appreciate you, and others won’t know what they’re missing. But you should value yourself first and foremost.

Cleaning — while necessary— *can* mean throwing things in a closet.

Never say you can’t do something well until you’ve practiced doing it a lot.

When you get older, you’re going to feel pretty much the same as you did when you were younger. You’re always just you—at 67, there will still the same kernel of a girl who was there when she was 47, 27, 17 and even 7. So don’t forget how important play is at every age, and don’t dismiss what someone has to say just because of how old they are.

When driving, the back way is longer but faster — and a heck of a lot more scenic.

Sunblock… lots, and lots of sunblock. (You’ll thank me later.)

Kids in the band make the best friends.

Happy birthday my delightful, wonderful, awe-inspiring daughter. I love you. And I never really knew what that meant before you came into my life.

And yes, of course there’s cake!