Sorry, Mom

This weekend is Mother’s Day, and later this month it is my birthday. The combination of those two things (along with raising two teen daughters) has caused me to reflect on all of the things I should apologize to my mother for. In the past I have called her and groaned “I’m soooooo sorry for having been a teenager,” but I wasn’t quite specific enough. Today I’m going to make up for that.

I’m sorry for the time I put your Peach Schnapps in cream cheese frosting for brownies. Not only was it gross, but it was a waste of Peach Schnapps because we didn’t end up eating them. But boy did we feel rebellious and grown up for trying!

I’m sorry for that Christmas that I chose to stay home with my boyfriend instead of going to Pittsburgh with you. That was a real jerk move. To your credit, you let me do it, knowing how much I would regret it. And when you found me on the back porch when you came home, you knew you were right.

I’m sorry that you ever had to see me kiss a boy. Or that you have to have the knowledge that I have had sex at least twice. I’m sorry for any image that you have ever had in your head of me doing more than holding hands. I’ll just leave it at that.

I’m sorry that I came home late at night when I knew you were in bed waiting. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why you didn’t just GO TO SLEEP. What did it matter if I was home? Now I understand. You weren’t going to sleep until you KNEW I was home safe.

I’m sorry for not being happier when you got remarried. I took it personally like you were moving on with your life into a new one I wouldn’t be a part of. I didn’t understand that I was really the one who was already moving on to my own new life.

I’m sorry that I perpetually walked past stuff on the steps. Why did you care if my own stuff sat there? Oh, yeah. It was the least I could do when you bought me something to actually put it away.

I’m sorry for sneaking out on April 28 with Amy and crashing the boys’ sleepover. I’m most sorry that they called and woke you up because they wondered if we got home. In our defense, we did take a coat hanger and belt to defend ourselves in case someone tried to kidnap us.

I’m sorry for threatening to live with dad. We both knew how awful it would be over there for me. It felt like the only leverage I had to get what I wanted. You didn’t back down, and I didn’t leave. So much for leverage!

I’m sorry for making fun of you for repainting the house for my graduation (so white! so bright! so open!). Apparently it’s some kind of reverse nesting thing to want to all of a sudden redecorate when the kids are about to leave.

Lastly, and most importantly, I’m sorry for every single minute that I said or did anything that made you think I didn’t appreciate you and love you. I’ve come to learn that feeling like you are losing your daughter is the same as feeling like you are losing a part of your heart.

I have a pretty good memory, but I am sure this is only about 1% of the things I should be apologizing for. And I’m sure the list will continue to grow over time. Just know that I DO get it all now.