I was going to start this off by thanking you for all of the things that you do for me, daily. You know, the typical mom things. Like raising me to be a compassionate, loving daughter, and giving me the world ever since I was a little girl. You’ve provided a roof over my head, discipline when necessary, the list goes on and on. But then I stopped myself, and realized that yes, you’ve done all of those things for me, but that’s your duty as a mom, right? What I should be thanking you for, are all the ways you’ve gone above and beyond as my mom.

I’ll never forget when I was younger and would write in my diary every time we got in an argument, or I’d tweet something along the lines of “I really cant stand my mom,” or “my mom is seriously so annoying,” every time you said “no.” If I could go back, I’d smack my cocky 14-year-old self right in the forehead and say, “Listen, she’s going to be your best friend one day. Now stop acting like a brat.” I knew I’d realize it one day; although we’ve always been extremely close I never thought we would have the relationship that we do today. You’re the one person I want to talk to when the slightest thing goes wrong, no matter what that thing may be.

We still do get in the occasional argument over me refusing to do the dishes, or forgetting to fold my laundry, or when I “sleep the day away,” according to you, even though you consider 10 a.m. “sleeping in” (Try noon.) And we can never quite seem to agree on a reasonable curfew for me (If only you knew how late I stay out when I’m away at school.) There was that one time I got my car taken away for a month over something so stupid, I can’t even remember what I did if we’re being honest.

It’s not always rosy and sweet, that’s for sure; there are plenty of times where I can admit to giving you attitude, and I’m sure you can admit to being a little too hard on me (You’ll definitely disagree with that, but it was worth a shot.) Sure, we fight occasionally, and it might end in tears, but usually the tears are just from laughing so hard. When it comes down to it, you always were my favorite person to argue with.

I’ll never be able to fully put into words how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for me and continue to do for me on a daily basis, but I’m going to try.

Thank you for all of the times you’ve waited for over an hour in the elementary School parking lot to pick me up at the end of the day, because I was too afraid to take the bus home as a little girl.

Thank you for perfecting all of your mom’s recipes so that you can pass them down to me one day, even though you and I both know I have a better chance of burning the house down than perfecting Gram’s chicken cutlets.

Thank you for nursing me back to happiness on the dullest of days, with nothing more than a little bit of company, advice, and a lot of chocolate marshmallow ice cream.

Thank you for all of your excessive worrying, because it reassures me that I’m not utterly insane, anxiety just runs in the family.

Thank you for letting me be a spoiled, only child, until I was eight years old, because it taught me that I’d much rather have younger sisters one day to share clothes with when I have nothing to wear.

Thank you for spending your time turning my entire bedroom into a Barbie Dream City so that we could play together all day.

Thank you for introducing me to blue-raspberry ice-pops; when I eat them now, I can taste what it was like to be ten years old again, running through the sprinklers on the front lawn in the summer.

Thank you for fitting into all of my clothes, because even though I roll my eyes when you walk downstairs wearing my sweater, I know you’re just trying to look the part of “cool mom.”

Thank you for going through heartbreak, so you knew exactly what to say when it was my turn.

Thank you for teaching me the difference between right and wrong, between anger and disappointment, between a house and a home, and between gravy and sauce.

More importantly though, thank you for teaching me that friends aren’t the only people you can gossip with; that your mom can be your best friend, too. Thank you for never failing to be there for me, no matter what the situation. Because of you, I am able to define the term “best friend,” and if there’s anything I’ve learned from you, it’s that any mom can be a mom, but it takes one kick-ass mom to be both.