I don’t know where to begin. It’s hard to remember what life was like before your child and, soon after, you found your way into my heart. One day, I was just some stranger your daughter wanted to spend the night with. I’m sure you asked all the usual mom questions. “What are her parents like?” “Where do they live?” “What kind of girl is she?” Looking back, all of those questions seem hilarious. Now it’d be nothing for your child to call and say she’s staying at my house and will be back in a week. Funny how things change.

First, I would like to say thank you. Thank you for the years of chauffeuring us to football games and movies and shopping trips. Thanks for letting me crash at your place unexpectedly, and sometimes for days at a time. The phrase “my second home” or “my second family” has become kind of a cliché, but it’s honestly how I felt. I never felt like a “guest.” When I’d wake up two hours before Haley, I never felt too shy to come into the kitchen or grab food (secretly hoping you’d made pancakes because your pancakes were the bomb) and just play games with her little brothers until she got up.

And just like any family would, you had no problem teasing me along with the rest of them. I’m pretty sure you’ll never let me forget the time I ate an entire pizza and a box of wings by myself… and then almost died from swallowing a chicken wing whole. Or the time I wrecked a mini four-wheeler into the creek. I distinctly remember not screaming because I was afraid you would think I was hurt, but then you just thought I wasn’t screaming because I was unconscious or dead, something you remind me of often. I can’t even blame you. It was pretty hilarious.

Thanks most of all for taking care of me emotionally as well as physically. As a teenager, I didn’t always do too well with listening to my own mom (OK, still working on that at 20), but there was something about hearing the same thing from you. So thanks for all the advice—solicited and unsolicited. Thanks for setting me straight, for warning me about boys, and for talking me through breakups.

Finally, thanks for being you. Your child is my best friend, and I cannot imagine a day where they won’t be. But, even without them I will still always count you as a friend. I love hearing your stories of your wild teenage days, or how you met your husband. I love that you tag me in memes, and pray for me. You’ve not only let me become a part of your child’s life, but also your parents and brothers and sisters. I not only have a second mom, but a second set of grandparents, cousins, and anything else I could ask for.

Thanks for taking me in.

Your Second Daughter