Dear Mom,

To be honest, I don’t even know where to begin. The past couple of years have been hard on you, and I know you’ve been feeling underappreciated more often than not. However, that could not be further from the truth. In the past few years, I’ve grown drastically in ways I would say have only been positive. And to thank for that is no one else, but you. I know that I don’t tell you nearly enough how wonderful you are, and how thankful I am that you’re my mother. And while this still won’t be sufficient in acknowledging my awe for you, it’ll have to do for now.

Thank you for being my greatest role model.

Ever since I was young, I remember looking at you and wishing that one day I could be even half the woman you are. Here I am, twenty years later, and that feeling has yet to go away. I long for the day that I’m able to juggle the number of events and activities you do with ease. I hope I can maintain the fierce passion you’ve embedded in me in regards to helping others and remaining selfless. One of my goals in life is to be able to be the person that young kids and teenagers can come to with their problems, without fear of judgment, as you so often are. And, just like you, I can’t wait for the day that my own children look at me and think that I am the best mother they could ever ask for.

Thank you for being my voice of reason.

While I tried to avoid all the high school (and college) drama that most girls succumb to, I had my fair share of times where I needed someone to slap me back into reality. I didn’t always want to hear it, but you always made sure that I was aware of how unreasonable I was truly being.

Thank you for letting me vent.

I managed to successfully avoid a lot of that aforementioned drama. But that’s not to say, I didn’t complain about it on a nightly basis. Thank you for letting me go on and on about the pure ridiculousness of teenage girls, whether we were seated next to each other in the car or on the phone a few hours apart. I’m sure there were times (and will be plenty more) where you really just wanted me to shut up about it, but you let me rant on anyway.

Thank you for teaching me boys are stupid.

Okay, so maybe I haven’t completely mastered that one yet… But I’m trying. And with each passing day, and another boy doing or saying something terribly degrading, I’m beginning to see your way of thinking. You were right… Boys are stupid – and it doesn’t matter how old they are.

Thank you for laughing with me when I wanted nothing but to cry.

Somehow you were always able to make me smile on my worst days. Whether it was eating my body weight in ice cream, having an excruciating workout at the gym, or simply irritating the workers at Sam’s by closing off each and every aisle, you never failed to make me crack a grin and push the tears further away.

Thank you for believing in me.

Whether it be in softball, my academics, or those first few days of college away from home, you always pushed me to do my best. And when I thought my world was crumbling around me, you reminded me I was capable of getting through anything I set my mind to. Sometimes, I thought you were crazy, but knowing someone was behind me - sure of my every step - was a comforting thought that allowed me to push through some of my toughest days.

Thank you for not letting disabilities define me.

While I don’t know if I ever let an impairment hinder my performance, I know that between you and Dad, you taught me to never use it as an excuse. “I can’t means I don’t want to,” is a phrase I heard one too many (or maybe 1000 too many) times growing up, but to this day, I believe in its worth. You’ve taught me that regardless of your natural abilities, there is no excuse for someone to work harder than me, and excuses are for quitters.

Thank you for being my #1 fan.

I know sitting through those God-awful 10 & Under softball games was nothing short of dreadful, but I will forever be thankful for allowing me to continue playing the game I grew to love. You never once complained about watching my team get courtesy runned when I was little, or my first travel ball team lose every game we played. Instead, you sat on the side lines and encouraged me to do my best. Fast forward through six years of travel ball, and I can proudly say I’ve lead my team to some great accomplishments. I owe a lot of that credit to you for cheering me on even when I was ten years old and could barely make the throw across the diamond. Now, here you are perched on the tailgate of the truck, watching as I begin my junior year of college as the starting short stop. No matter how far the game may take me, I can trust that you and Dad will be there, supporting my every move.

To this day, the greatest compliment I’ve ever received was, “It’s crazy how much you remind me of your mom.” I hope that’s one of those things that I never lose.

Love you lots,

Your Baby Girl