After raising three kids and holding down the fort for the last thirty years, my mom has seen it all.

From diapers to bad attitudes, she has dealt with it all.

No matter what, she put up with it (even when she claims she didn't - hey, I'm still alive and kicking), and for that, I owe her a few apologies.

So, without further hesitation or excuse, Mom, I'm sorry...

1. For not washing the dishes.

As it usually goes, it wasn't until I was on my own that I saw value in keeping up with the dishes (and other forms of basic cleaning).

Thank you for listening to me complain about others doing the same things I did while living at home, and for not rubbing the whole, "Now you know how it feels," bit in my face in the meantime.

2. For being impatient in teaching you about technology.

There's still a lot of things I don't understand, and I call my friends who know what they're doing to explain it to me. I'm sorry for not having the same patience I expect them to have with me.

3. For pretending to listen.

Often times, you just want to tell me about something you saw online or on TV, and for some reason, whatever is on my laptop or phone screen is much more intriguing (except it's not).

I don't know why my mind gets stuck in that teenager mentality where my brain thinks it's "cool" to just tune it out. It's not, and I'm sorry.

4. For complaining about shopping.

I hate shopping as much as you hate attending an event out of obligation. The difference is you put on a brave face and make the most of it, whereas I can't make it through a store without a minimum of two eye rolls and a heavy sigh.

Although we take more trips to Walmart than any weddings, showers and birthday parties combined, it has to be done, and I should be less of a brat about it.

5. For needing my space.

I love the independence you've raised me to have, and sometimes, I can get obsessed with it.

Even when I come home, I'll get absorbed in whatever assignments I have to get done or deadlines I have to meet. While it sometimes is necessary for me to keep to myself, it's not fair to you when I avoid family time.

6. For not taking your advice.

Because you've raised me to have a level head, I assume I can do a lot of things on my own. There's plenty of occasions where you tell me what I should do, and I simply don't listen. I tend to forget that even though you may not know the situation first-hand, you've already been there and done that.

7. For giving you a hard time about taking pictures.

From Christmas cards, to family vacations, to simple dinners at the house -- I couldn't tell you why I act like it's the end of the world to stand still for 30 seconds.

What's even more strange, is I still give you a hard time; even when I know I'm going to be thankful for them in the future. I'll work on it, I promise.

8. For showing more excitement over seeing my fur family than my human family.

It's no secret, I'm a dog person. It's also no secret I'm terrible at showing affection. I can do it strategically (hence this letter), but you of all people know how quickly I dodge a cheek pinch and how awkward I am at giving a hug.

Like most of my other points, it's hard for me to explain why I do it, but know that I am just as ecstatic to see you as I am to get a tongue bath from the dogs (and I love you just as much, too).

9. For anything else I didn't include on this list.

As you probably noticed, all of these points include something about me having an attitude. It's something I've been saying I'll get in check for a while, and maybe now I will.

If I've learned anything from watching our family over the years, it's that I don't want to grow old with any regrets, and giving you a constant hard time would be the worst.

I'm sure in the last couple decades you've pulled your hair out and lost your voice (you're Italian, so metaphorically, of course) over my shenanigans one too many times, but I hope the stress was worth it.

I love you, Mom, and I'm sorry I don't always show it.