Happy Mother’s Day, moms! Today is your special day – to be thanked for all you do and to give thanks for all your mom did before you. Only when you’ve become a mom yourself can you finally understand your own mom. Talk about eye-opening, right? Today I’m sharing a personal letter to my mom – partly because it’s the best way I know to express how important moms are and partly because I know it’ll embarass the hell out of her.

The whole Fans of Being a Mom team wishes each of you a wonderful Mother’s Day. Enjoy your day and your family.

Remember when we all used to watch the Wonderful World of Walt Disney on Sunday nights, and I sat on the floor at the foot of the bed so no one would see me cry during Old Yeller or The Amazing Journey? I’m still that little girl who hates to get all mushy, but today I’m gonna go ahead and go there.

Because today is Mother’s Day and you are my mom. And although I am a mom myself now, I was your daughter first.

And what a pain in the arse I was. Good lord, I have a lot to apologize for.  Like that time we were at the airport and you were so pregnant and I threw that screaming-on-the-floor temper tantrum and you thought about giving me to the nice lady who offered to take me for a walk. Or the way I pouted and fumed through our summer vacation in to the San Juan Islands because I was pining for my boyfriend back home. Or the day I ran away. Or all the things I wrote in my diary about how you didn’t understand and didn’t care. For those I am most sorry.

Because, now that I’m a mom, I get it. Oh, boy do I get it.

You did understand and you cared more than my young heart could comprehend. When I first held Meghan in my arms, I wasn’t thinking only of how completely and unconditionally and fiercely I loved this child of mine, I was also thinking, “My god, this is how much I am loved.”  How could I have known until I’d stood in your place, looking down upon my own child with a heart that ached to make her world perfect?

A mother’s love is often taken for granted. And that’s okay. We don’t really mind, because it’s not about us. We have a job to do and the love that drives us is bigger than anything else. That’s why we don’t mind having to be the bad guy when the situation calls for it. We can take the consequences of putting our foot down because we know what’s best. Mom always does.

So, thank you for making me play by your rules. I didn’t always love it, but in retrospect I’m so grateful you had the wisdom to see the big picture and the gumption to hold your ground. I know I didn’t always make it easy. Thank you for all the sacrifices you and Dad made. Like the Christmas you surprised me with the homemade gift certificate for a week of pony camp. You knew how much I wanted it (even though I hadn’t dared to hope), and you found a way – I still don’t know how – to make it happen. And the year at Boston College – when I think of how you scrimped and saved so I could squander my time studying nothing in particular and pretending to be all grown up … how did you not strangle me?

But most of all, I am thankful that you’re here to help me navigate my own journey as a mom. You’re always the first person I call and yours is the opinion I value most when it comes to being the best mom I can be. There is no expert, no guru, no Ph.D.-carrying authority who can hold a candle to you. After all, I turned out pretty well, right? And who knows me better than you? You see where I’m going to get tripped up before I’m even aware I’m headed for a fall. And, although it must be terribly tempting, you never say ‘I told you so.’ Ever. You offer practical guidance and emotional support with grace, tact, and respect. You rock.

So, on this Mother’s Day, thank you for … everything. Everything you’ve done. Everything you’ve put up with. Everything you’ve taught me. Everything I am. Thank you for always being there – for me, and now, for your granddaughter. She is a lucky little girl to have such a special grandmother, and I’m a lucky girl to have you for my mom.  I know I’m going to have to wait awhile,  but I hope that someday I’ll get it as right as you did and my own daughter will feel about me the way I feel about you. (In the meantime, thanks in advance for talking me off the ledge when those teenage years hit.)

Love you, mom.