Laurel Snyder

Recently, someone asked me about alternatives to “Oh, the Places You’ll Go,” as a gift for kids graduating from Kindergarten or Pre-K, and I turned the question over to my friends, who provided a variety of wonderful options.

But then I found myself wanting to write my own version. So here it is.  Rough and dirty.  The meter needs work for sure, and I’ll probably end up slashing and revising it, if I do anything with it at all, but I never post to the blog anymore, so I thought I’d do that.

Enjoy!  (and apologies if this isn’t to your liking).  I don’t mean it for everyone. It’s MY story, rooted in my current moment, which is specific to me.

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Oh, the Things You’ll Become…
A book for your darling child

Oh, sweet darling child,
So winsome, so wild,
I look in your eyes and behold…

All the ways you will grow,
All the things you will know,
You’ll be tall. You’ll be smart. And so bold!

Your soft sleepy gazes,
Adorable phrases,
And generous smiles will please.

Each curious question,
And daring suggestion,
Will help you  dream mountains and seas.

Until… one fine day
You will glance down my way.
And my heart will be filled with such pride.

But you’ll grunt and then moan,
“Mom, just leave me alone!”
As you stomp to your room, where you’ll hide.

Oh, the things you’ll become!
Kinda mean. Kinda dumb.
At the same time standoffish and needy.

Of course I’ll still love you,
But I’ll want to shove you.
Because you’ll be whiny and greedy.

You might also smell.
As your head starts to swell.
You will torture your poor little brother.

When you don’t get a car,
You will tell us we are,
The most horrible father and mother.

Then we’ll sigh and we’ll freak,
We’ll feel worried all week
And we’ll anxiously, nervously pray.

We’ll stay up each night.
We’ll get tipsy and tight.
Though it  won’t take our troubles away.

You’ll move out, and we’ll write,
Now that you’re out of sight.
You’ll ignore us and turn off the phone.

And when we catch you,
You’ll have “things” to go do,
We’ll pretend to have “things” of our own.

But you know what, sweet child,
Though the ride will be wild,
We’ll savor each mile with you.

Because as you grow,
We’ll grow too, dontcha know?
We’ll be better for all we go through.

I refuse to pretend
That you’ll be my best friend
If you hate me sometimes, that’s all right.

Nobody will ever
Mean more to me. Never.
I’ll be here when you need a fight.

Oh the things you’ll become.
Kinda mean, kinda dumb.
Kinda monstrous sometimes, and I’m proud.

That you’re fierce and you’re real.
And you know how to feel.
You’ll be honest, and live life out loud.