In June of 1996, on the hottest day of the year, my mom welcomed her first and only child: me. I didn't have a dad yet, and for eight years it was just me and my mom. I was a baby who wouldn't sleep unless I was held and a little girl who walked on her toes. I was incredibly stubborn and had nightmares too. I said funny things like "It's so windy, I'm gonna blow all the way to South America!" and I loved books. My biggest fear was that I wouldn't be able to spend time with my mom. Maybe it's cliche, but my mom is my best friend, my favorite person on Earth.
From a young age I was obsessed with my mom and I still love her more than I can tell you. She taught me things like how to make brownies from scratch and how to keep my room clean (even though I was never too good at it). She gave me a kitten for my third birthday (that cats 17 now) and took me to work with her. She sang me to sleep and bought me the very first Harry Potter movie (on VHS). She read me books and cut my hair. No matter what, she did what was best for me, she always has and I'm sure she always will.
My mom drove me to extra-curricular activities and came to every ballet recital, swim meet and most of my speech and debate tournaments (not that I wanted her at those). She chaperoned my dance trips and signed me out of school early without question when I was in high school. She instilled in me the morals and the identity that I have today.
She taught me to never give up, to fight for what I wanted, that I was just as capable as anyone else. She taught me to dream, that I could be anything and anyone I wanted. She believed in me when I didn't know how to believe in myself. She was (and more importantly is) rarely disappointed in me. She taught me about who God is. She taught me that even when she couldn't be there for me that He always would be.
My mom has done everything in her power since I was a baby to make sure I had the best life possible, something I will forever be grateful for. She has gone above and beyond to spend time with me, to take care of me, to ensure that I felt loved and never alone.
My mom has held me while I cried, even though the sight of my tears normally makes her cry. She made me pumpkin cupcakes and picked apples with me, making fall my favorite season. She made sure I did my homework and encouraged me to apply to Washington State. She calls/texts me every day. I can tell her anything and she knows everything about me from school to the boy(s) I like/liked. She has stood by me in every decision I have ever made and though we have (obviously) fought before, we never go to bed angry because how can you stay mad at your favorite person on this entire planet?
