But you’re lucky. You’re probably old enough by now that she can’t boss you around anymore. I’m still in her sphere of supreme rule, which means when she says she’s taking me with her to spend two weeks visiting Gram at her new condo at Sunny Sandy Shores Condominium Complex in Florida, there’s nothing left to do but start packing.

Any of this sound familiar yet?

I sure hope so, because if not, that might mean this trip turned out so badly, you blocked the whole thing out of your mind, so you’d never have to think about it again.

Too bad you can’t write me a letter. Then I’d at least have a hint of what’s about to happen to me.

Love,

Me

Dear Me,

Maybe you’re thinking, “Wow, I must’ve been a really brilliant twelve-year-old to think of writing letters to my future self.”

But, if you’re thinking that, you must’ve forgotten that Mom’s the real reason I’m writing these letters.

Remember Make It, Take It, Live It, Give It? The crafts, gifts, and photo album company where Mom works? Well, the Dear Me Journal is her most recent brainstorm.

Dear Me Journals

record it today, cherish it tomorrow.

Dear Me Journals are a revolutionary way of journaling.

Don’t just write “Dear diary.”

Don’t just keep a log of your life.

Make it even more memorable.

Make it even more personal.

Write “Dear Me” letters to your future self.

Dear Me Journals—a way to do something unforgettable for the future you.

Dear Me Journal prototypes overflow from every tote bag Mom owns. So, since she’d forgotten to pick up a new spiral notebook for me to use for my summer journal, she tossed one of her Dear Me Journals onto my bed. Each journal comes with a cutesy carrying case, a pocketful of envelopes, and thematic decorative stickers. (Ugh! I mean, c’mon Mom, I’m going to be in seventh grade next year. Stickers? Really?)

But even though I gave Mom the are-you-kidding-me look when that Dear Me Journal practically landed in my lap, she didn’t even acknowledge my annoyance. Her mind was way too focused on Operation Sunny Sandy Shores as well as her big Dear Me Journal presentation coming up next month at Make It, Take It.

Before I even had time to pick up the Dear Me Journal, Mom came running back into my room and exploded with enthusiasm, “I just had the most amazing idea, Samantha!”

But here’s the thing, I knew from experience, which means you know it too, that if I had even one dollar for every time Mom said she had an amazing idea—even though the ideas weren’t amazing at all—I’d be writing this letter from the deck of the cruise ship I was able to buy with all that money.