As we go through this transitory life, our moms care for our every need and wellbeing. Most of the time, we say thank you. Thank's for the gifts. Thanks for cooking dinner. Thanks for sending me home with groceries when I come to visit on the weekends. But over the course of our years - in my case, there's been 23 of them - there are quite literally millions of things we never once say "thank you" for. All of the small, minute details that, in fact, end up taking most of the time. But, we look over them. They are so woven into day to day life that we never stop to think. So mom, here's to you.

Thank you for always giving me the last piece of pizza.

Even though you said you didn't want it, I knew that you did. I also knew if you even so much as thought that I wanted it, you weren't going to eat it. Why? Because you are selfless. You want for me to be happy. And if happy means one more slice of cheesey heaven, then that's what you do. You never once complained. You never once said "No, you can't have it." As a child, I genuinely thought you just didn't want it. But now, I realize you wanted that pizza, but more than that, you wanted me to be content.

Thank you for always buying stuff from school fundraisers so I could get the cool prizes.

Whether it was selling magazines, wrapping paper (what even was that about), or Little Caesars pizzas, you always supported all of those stressful, terrible things we called fundraisers. And of course, they always came with a book of toys we, the children, would take home if we sold a certain amount. So, whether it was buying 14 rolls of Christmas themed paper (some of which we probably still have at the house), 10 pizzas with cookie dough AND the crazy bread, or five magazine subscriptions I know you never read, you always made me feel like a winner. I may not have always gotten the boombox with AM and FM radio like that one time, but I at least always got something. Thanks for breaking your wallet for me to win a crappy toy that made too much noise.

Thank you for paying for (and supporting) my extra-curricular activities.

Whether it was softball, volleyball, or 19 years of competitive dance, you always were my #1 fan. Like any true dance mom, you even had a button with my face on it. You sacrificed so I could follow my dreams. Every game I sat on the bench during, every mental breakdown before a big dance competition, every rhinestone and sequin, loose bobby pin, injury, every moment I wanted to give up, you pushed me to keep going and to do my best. Whenever I was ready to quit, you reminded me that I was a part of a team, and my team needed me. This isn't really about the sports, it's about the lessons you taught me during those times. To be my best, give my all, and never give up.

Thank you for sitting through hours upon hours of Chuck E. Cheese.

As an adult, that place is a nightmare. Every inch is covered in a permanent layer of grease and germs. The pizza was sub-par, and the noise level was just ridiculous. But alas, you sat there and let me be a kid. Heck, you might have even enjoyed the skee ball more than I did. Thanks, mom, for sacrificing your Sunday afternoons to sit in literal hell while I threw coins at machines for tickets. The gooey hands and bouncy balls were worth it.

Thank you for doing the dirty work.

Every stomach bug, every bad cold, every broken bone or bleeding, scraped up knee. From the first black eye to the first broken bone, you've been there to comfort me. Even as a college student, you can bet your hard earned dollar that I'll call you every single time I'm under the weather and ask what medicine I can take, make sure I'm not dying, and request veggie soup. You always know how to make me feel better. Not to mention, you went through nine months of torture and a few hours of the worst pain known to humans just to bring me into this world, and you still kind of like me.

You could probably tell by now, this is actually nothing to do with Chuck E. Cheese, paying for sports, or helping me get the cool prizes from school fundraisers. What we never actually said thank you for was your selflessness. Since the day you found out you were pregnant, your entire life has revolved around us. You fell in love with a tiny human and never looked back. You have given up everything to make sure we have the best life possible. Looking back now, as a 23 year old that still sometimes thinks I have it all together, I realize more and more how I couldn't make it without you. Not yesterday, today, or ever.

So thanks, to all the moms out there, for your compassion, your determination, and your love.

And for the last slice of pizza.