From one mother to another

Dear Mom,

Happy Birthday.

I'm sorry I ever talked to you while you were in the bathroom. I was under the misconception that that was a perfect time to have you all to myself. Little did I realize it was the only time you had to yourself.

I'm sorry that I was colicky.

I'm sorry for all the times I ever told you 'no', 'you're not the boss of me', 'I'm bored', 'will you play with me?', 'what's for dinner?', 'I don't like this', 'I'm going to run away', 'why do you like Kimberly more than me?', 'why did you have so many kids?', 'the only reason you had so many kids was so you didn't have to do any work', etc.

I'm sorry if I ever upchucked, spit up, blew out, or snotted on you.

I'm sorry that when I was 13 I would want to sleep in your bed because Emily made me watch this really horrible movie that I was obviously too immature to watch and therefore I was having nightmares about the injustices in Africa.

I'm sorry I woke you up insanely early on Christmas morning.

I'm sorry I tattled. In my defense, there was so much to tattle about and someone had to do it. Just taking one for the team.

I'm sorry that I would hide my meatloaf in my baked potato skin. And if I didn't do that, I'm sorry that I would rather do someone else's chores rather than eat my meatloaf.

I'm sorry if I was naughty during sacrament meeting, but it could have been someone else, there were nine of us, after all.

I'm sorry if I ever made you cry out of frustration and desperation.

I'm sorry that I was in the ICU with a ruptured appendix, and then after a while, with no appendix.

I'm sorry that I blubbered to you about my crush Ryan liking Ashley better than me in 4th grade.

I'm sorry that I embarrassed you by eating my boogers.

I'm sorry about the times I tagged along with you garage selling on Saturday mornings.

I'm sorry for the times I whined and complained when you were doing my hair.

I'm sorry for all the occasions when I made you feel guilty for not being a better mom.

I'm sorry for that one time we were in the car and you had your book with you and I started reading it out loud to you while you were driving and it was some sort of Harlequin Romance and there were children with us. I was just trying to be helpful. I know what it's like when I'm in the middle of a good book.

I love you, Happy Birthday. Here's to another 57 years. (If you do live that long, we all know that it will be Kimberly and Emily taking care of you.)

Katie