What kind? This kind

Dear Little Reyes Sisters,

Pay attention here, because I'm about to save you several hundred dollars in co-pays on your mental health visits when you are older.

I am the kind of mother who will take you on a Tilt-A-Whirl ride when what you really need is a nap.

I am the kind of mother that will happily take you to the beach to swim and play (because afterall, who doesn't love the beach?) but then forget to bring your sand toys along with us, which will force you to either reappropriate someone else's toys as your own for the afternoon, or cause you to build sand castles with someone's used lemonade cup.

I am the kind of mother who will forget to pay your school bus bill, but then nervously shove you into the middle of the throng of children that are climbing aboard, with nothing more than a kiss and my most fervent wish that the bus driver isn't keeping track of who's paid up and who isn't.

I am the kind of mother who will encourage you to eat your bedtime snack next to me on the couch in front of the TV, and then scold you for trying to eat your breakfast burrito down there while you watch Sponge Bob a week later. ("God! This couch is like sitting on a beach for Christ's sakes!")

I am the kind of mother who will tear up when I try to let you know how proud I am of you, and then wonder if you even understood what I was trying to tell you through the tears.

I am the kind of mother who might have to hang your shirt out the car window on the way to an appointment to have portraits taken, so that it will be dry enough for you to wear once we get to the portrait studio.

I am the kind of mother who really would just like an hour of quiet so I can read a little, but will probably play a game with you if you cajole me long enough.

I am the kind of mother who will absolutely feed you tuna hot dish and summer sausage and sour cream -n- onion potato chips for breakfast if it's easy and I've run out of time to fix you anything else. (And I doubt that I'm the only mother like this.)


I am the kind of mother that complains alot about just needing 2 damn hours to myself to get some errands done, but then will have pangs of guilt about being away from you about an hour into my trip.



I am the kind of mother who will search for a way to teach you the real meaning of Christmas, and also buy you an Ipod because mine is broken and I could really use somewhere to put all of the songs I downloaded before it broke.



What I am trying to say is this: I am a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, inside of alot of insecurity about being a mother. I won't always have an explanation for why I do the things that I do. But I promise you this - I will always take my job as your mom seriously, and will never stop trying to do the very best job that I can.



Love,

Mama