a letter to my daughter

Dear Ana,

I drop you off at daycare and rush to work every day. You are up and fresh from a good night's sleep, you want your mommy to obey your every command, you are full of energy and want to run around the house dodging my attempts to get you dressed. I feel so sorry to brush you off when all you want is to sit on my lap and read a book in the morning. But, believe me, despite getting caught up in work at the office, I manage to catch a slideshow or two of your photos, my precious doll, over a cup of coffee, or a mediocre lunch, every day, sitting at my desk wondering why I am not out in the park with you, glowing proudly remembering the moment frozen in the pictures...

Our house isn't posh and museum-like, and it isn't as bad as our neighboring dumpster, but, it could use some straightening out... Sorry, little girl, I need your help. The minute I pick up your books and toys and put them away, your spidey-sense tingles and there you are rushing by to scatter them on the floor again. Help me teach you to pick up after yourself, dear, Amma can't do it all.

Amma does not care to drive the latest car, or make any fashion statements. Amma barely manages to put on a clean shirt to work each day, thanks to your peanut-butter-jelly-banana hands hugging me and tousling my hair when I try to get you dressed.

When my old friend from my school days asks me what I do for fun, I draw a blank because she has just told me she takes tae-bo and pilates class, wants to check out a new trendy restaurant, and has plans to go hiking this weekend... Does doing laundry, cooking food and taking you to the park count as fun? In which case Amma has loads and loads of fun, dearie, loads and loads...

So, what am I really doing?

I am cherishing our times together.
I am watching you grow into yourself.
I am learning to be a mom, if not a role-model...

Amma loves you a lot even if she doesn't quite know how to be what you might want her to be when you grow up...

Kisses,
Amma.