Dear Olivia,

In the blink of an eye, you've officially become a teenager. You've finally made it to the big leagues where you can look behind you and laugh at all the "kid stuff" you used to be into, while staring off into the horizon at all the possibilities ahead: relationships and dating, peer pressure, puberty and putting a portion of your paycheck into your 401K. I don't remember much about when I turned 13, but there's a feeling I can associate with it: awkwardness. Puberty led to feeling uneasy in my own body and mind, which I'm sure translated into worries over how I was presenting myself to my peers. During this time I just wanted to fit in and feel "normal," all while my hormones were busy ransacking and undermining me. I can only imagine the amount of times I went from being a happy-go-lucky kid to acting like I wanted to eat someone's brains because my emotions were all over the place. Hopefully I had killer dance moves back then, but I doubt it.

The past year of your life has been plenty busy, with little sign of slowing down (although not for lack of trying). At school you participated in multiple clubs including performance, drama and choir. Fight club was one interest you had, but whenever we asked about it no one seemed to know anything about it. You took voice lessons and performed the song 'Popular' from the Wicked musical at the recital. You also took drum lessons from the same place I was taking lessons for guitar, and it was so nice to share something like that with you. I enjoyed sitting down together and practicing a song, no matter how much we fumbled through it. Unfortunately you decided to drop drums and voice lessons, mainly because you were so overscheduled each week. Your Mom and I decided to listen and give you that breathing room, even though I felt sad because we no longer shared a fun activity that was just ours (you and Mom have the musicals at our local performing arts center). I'm hoping that we can find something to do together again soon, even though you mainly want to spend your free time either with your friends or holed up in your room. Maybe we can look into Fight Club again, or try our hand at making soap.

Testing out the kit at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame

Speaking of musicals, you've had your hands full with those again this year. It started off with Peter Pan followed by Fable Fest, Matilda, Finding Nemo and you're currently in the midst of tech week for the second go around of Elf. I never get tired of seeing you on the stage, and I always well up with pride after each show completes. You're clearly fearless up there, and I hope that confidence helps you off the stage as well. You and your Mom keep telling me I should audition and join you, but I do not do well in front of crowds. I would most likely freeze up or my timing would be completely off and I'd look like a complete ass with a pocket full of tater tots.

Tanner, Miss J and you, post Matilda show

During the summer you opted out of doing a show (Oklahoma), because you wanted to take time off and relax. We as parents took that to mean one thing: you'd be bored and bother us as we needed to do our jobs while working from home. Luckily we found two great camps that ended up being rewarding for you. The first was American Sign Language (ASL) camp, which you seemed to really enjoy. You've already showed prior interest in ASL and this was right up your alley. You'd come home after a class, raving about it, showing us the signs you learned and even responding to us in sign. This was great until you got frustrated because we don't know ASL and had no idea what you were saying to us. We hope you'll be patient as we brush up on how to sign things like, "You complete me," or, "You had me at hello."

The second camp you attended was at St. Mary's College, focusing on fine arts and performance. The big thing about this one was that it was a week long and overnight, which would be the first time you'd be away from us for that long. You'd been asking us to do a sleepaway camp for some time, so when we found this one it seemed like the perfect fit: you get what you want and we were in close enough proximity in case of any emergencies. You got to stay in an actual college dorm room and it gave me flashbacks to my own college experience as I helped you unpack all of your things at drop-off. You spared no time in shooing me off once we finished, because you wanted to get the experience underway and not have a pesky parent ruining any fun you might be about to have, or making you seem uncool. At the end of the week we got to come see you perform in a short play which you helped co-write, and once again I beamed with pride over how natural you seemed on stage. I was so excited to see you afterwards and as your Mom and I entered your room you ran over and...gave Mom a big hug and then went off with your friends. To say it hurt was an understatement, but I knew it was a chaotic situation and your friends were in the midst of leaving as well. You wanted to spend the remaining moments you had with them, and delay the return of normal life as much as possible. Maybe I just gave off the wrong vibe when we showed up, what with my nipples poking through my shirt and acting like I was a cool parent.

“Ok, my spot in the dorm is set up, Dad. You can leave now.”

As a family we soaked in a ton of movies, TV and live theater. We got into shows like Modern Family, Brooklyn 99, Agatha All Along and Gilmore Girls. Movies we enjoyed included The Eras Tour, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, The Martian, The Fall Guy, Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, Thelma, the new Mean Girls and Wicked. Mean Girls was a big one for you, because you liked the original movie and are obsessed with the musical, so when the new one came out to watch at home it basically ran on a loop in our house. A friend coming over? Watch Mean Girls. Mom and Dad going out and leaving you at home? Watch Mean Girls. It's a Wednesday? Watch Mean Girls (and wear pink). We were also fortunate enough to see some live musicals, both locally and nearby in Chicago: School of Rock, Hamilton, Mean Girls ('natch) and & Juliet. Lastly, we took you to your first ever concert by going to see Olivia Rodrigo at the United Center in Chicago. Seeing you light up and hearing you shriek as 'the other Olivia' came out on stage was such a great experience for me, and I can't wait to take you to another show soon. Oh, and Rodrigo's opener was someone we hadn't heard of at the time, but would soon become a worldwide femininomenon (and on constant rotation via our music streaming service): Chappell Roan.

One other major highlight of this year was a furry addition to our family: our new adopted dog, Millie. AKA: Millie Doggie Brown, Millhouse, Mill Street Blues, Chewbarka, Milleficent, Barky Bark and the Funky Bunch, Puppy Chat and your most favorite name to call her, "Millie Babyyyyyyy." The first few days with her were a little rough, because she had previously come from a breeder and didn't know life outside of a cage and then she got moved to the pet refuge. It was literally like she didn't know how to be a dog. She'd just stand still, or lay down, and look at us with the saddest eyes you've ever seen. The refuge, who also provided the dog who played Toto in your Wizard of Oz show, assured us she just needed a loving home and time to open up. Sure enough they were right, and before we knew it she was trusting us and became the affectionate, playful, goofy and sweet dog we've come to know and love. She's the perfect fit for our household: super chill most of the time, with small bouts of zoomies, and into nerdy things like Star Wars and dressing up like one of The Golden Girls for Halloween. Part of the agreement with adopting her was that you'd be helping us out with the responsibilities: feeding, walking, keeping an eye out for her getting into mischief. It hasn't always been easy and we still have to remind you that she needs to be fed and walked DAILY, even though Millie does a great job of that already.

Speaking of challenges, you and I have been butting heads a lot over many things: getting you to help us out around the house, picking up after yourself, determining whether Die Hard is truly a Christmas movie and picking out the right set of cabinets to install in your room to house the plethora of cups and bottles that never seem to return to our kitchen. Now that you're older I'm giving you some harder chores, like mowing the lawn. At first you tried to get out of it any way you could, but you eventually (begrudgingly) conceded and started helping me. I'm sure the extra allowance money I promised you greased that wheel. I still have to help you out with it here and there, and remind you that sandals are not proper mowing shoes, but you've gotten much better at it and I'm proud of you for gritting your teeth and helping me out.

You made sure to do it up proper when we saw Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.

You tend to get frustrated when I give you a list of things to do, so I've had to back off some and take it slow. But then I get frustrated when I have to check in on that to-do list and discover you haven't done a thing, or you've only done the bare minimum. When I remind you of something that needs to be done and appears to have been forgotten, you turn into Bill Withers and give me the same old reply: "I know, I know, I know..." I'm trying to figure out how to teach you things like time management and front loading chores so you can have all the fun afterwards. But if you push chores off until after the fun ends, when the time comes to do them you blow up or make empty promises that they'll get done tomorrow. I wish this could be easier for you, but it's a big part of growing up and being a responsible person. The reality of it is that I'm trying to prepare you for the day when you have to live with another person or people. I want you to learn to take care of your things and respect other people's property and space. Ultimately, I just don't want you to be the Oscar to their Felix.

For me, this past year has been difficult because I'm seeing the distance between us grow larger. You're wanting to spend more time with friends, or just stay in your room alone, and it feels like being around us (or talking to us) is such a pain in the ass. I know that I signed up to be your parent and not your friend, but it stings and is a constant reminder that one day I'll be in the rear view mirror of your life. I wasn't ready for this part of the ride to seemingly start so soon, and yet here we are. I just want you to know that I'm trying to be the best Dad possible, even when it seems like I'm being a complete asshole. Your Mom and I have tried hard to fill your life with great experiences, love and laughter, while also teaching you boundaries and how to be a responsible, kind and compassionate human being. I know it hasn't always been easy, and I've made plenty of mistakes so far, but it all comes from a place of love and adoration for you. Parenting is the toughest thing I'll probably ever do in my life, but I'm so glad that I chose to do it. And I'm so glad that the stars aligned and gave us you 13 years ago. Happy birthday, young lady.

Love,

Dad