I’m sorry, but this seat is reserved, and unfortunately for you, you will not be sitting next to my daughter tonight.

This seat next to me, it’s reserved for my best friend, and that’s her.

And, that open seat that you see next to her, that’s reserved for someone special, and while I am sure you are likely very dear to someone, I’m not entirely so sure that you have earned the privilege of resting your derriere next to such a fantastic girl.

You see, I’ve always been a seat reserver, and there have always been those people that “get” me, and those that don’t.

I’m that mom that shows up three hours early to my children’s preschool Christmas performance so I can sit front center row.

I’m the mom who overstuffs her diaper bag so that she has enough crap to mark and save the rest of the seats in the first row as “taken” by my family.

I’m the one who has to sit front center row at my daughter’s dance competitions.

You just eye-rolled me didn’t you, and maybe you let out a little scoff, I’m guessing?

It’s okay. Not everyone understands me. But, I guarantee you that many mothers do.

I have to assume that quite a few mothers know precisely why I am uber content being known as “that crazy mom”.

Those same mothers, well, they know why I will not unreserve the seat next to my daughter merely because you walk up to it and show some interest.

There are standards I have for the people that sit in my row and near those that I love.

They are standards that I hold in place regardless of whether the available seat is next to one of my daughters or next to my son.

So, you see, if you are going to sit next to my daughter, you must be aware of this:

The seat next to her is reserved for someone kind. Is that you?

The seat next to her is reserved for someone funny. Are you humorous?

The seat next to her is reserved for someone humble. Are you appropriately confident?

The seat next to her is reserved for someone simple; not simple of mind, but pure of heart, in that you don’t require a lot to be happy. Does this sound like you?

The seat next to her is reserved for someone supportive — an encourager, a lifter, & a listener. Are you all of these things?

The seat next to her is reserved for someone loving. Do you know how to love someone effectively and without conditions or expectations?

The seat next to her is reserved for someone giving. Are you capable of sharing your time and attention with her whenever she appropriately desires?

The seat next to her is reserved for someone strong. Will you hold her up when she feels like crumbling? Will you be a rock when she begins to break?

The seat next to her is reserved for someone intelligent. Do you adhere to the adage that learning never stops? She does, so you must.

The seat next to her is reserved for a hard worker — just like her. Do you exude effort in all that you do?

The seat next to her is reserved for someone motivated — and not by money or attention, but by the desire for pure internal self-developed happiness.

The seat next to her is reserved for someone passionate; someone enthralled with her but also impassioned by something that satisfies themselves outside of her.

The seat next to her is reserved for a lover, and we are not talking about in the bedroom. She deserves a person who will love her mind, her heart, and the life created with her before anything else.

The seat next to her is reserved for a fighter; a fair-fighter — a person who is only willing to put in all the work (conversations, arguments, & whathaveyou) required for the maintenance and survival of the relationship.

The seat next to her is reserved for someone open-minded as she will most definitely have and voice her own opinions which will no doubt, at times, differ from yours.

The seat next to her is reserved for someone honest; authentic and imperfect, just like her.

The seat next to her is reserved for someone adventurous, as life with her always has been and will be a freakin’ intense and growth-provoking journey.

The seat next to her is reserved for someone who values family — their own and other people’s.

So, I’m sorry, but not really all that sorry to say “this seat is reserved”.

And, if that happens to make me look witchy, entitled, or snooty, so be it.

The seat next to my children will forever be as sacred to me as they are, and because of that, I must be careful of whom I allow to occupy said space.

I can see by the baffled look in your eye that my crazy seat-reserving antics have couched your desire to be in my proximity anyway, so could you kindly walk away and let that seat speak to the individual who is meant to sit in it?

Yes, I am very well aware that my helicopter flies extremely low, but at least I’m a good pilot.