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I want to one day know the love my mother has for me. Until then I play with the idea of a family of my own. I play with the idea of ways to drive my kids crazy while loving them unconditionally. Will they misunderstand me? Probably more often than not. Will they remind me of myself or my husband? Probably in more ways than not. Will I be able to keep up with their generation and their sense of adventure? Probably only time will tell.

Momma, I love ya.

She gives life and tortures happy forever after.
Latin culture means pressure cooker and tons of laughter
She cooks, she cleans, and she calls me daughter.

Teenage years means braces for years.
A horrific night mask, let's not forget broken bones, and such a fighter that daughter.
Fast forward to present day, wedding day, graduation day, and all the day's mama didn't forget her.

She is given honors by many scholars.
But all Mama wants to know is when the boys holler.
Even on a day like today. She is incapable of loving any less.

Cheers mama.

I've been thinking about my mom as these stressful days come more often than I admit. Her action and reaction gives me hope, clams me down, and drives me insane. What a blessing to have a caring mom! I often wonder how she puts up with me. I struggle to genuinely and consistently love her as she loves her children.