Happy Birthday mom, I love you. I love you so much.
I've been thinking about why my mother means so much to me. It's kind of a silly thing to think about really, of course she holds a special place in my heart. She's my mom. I cannot imagine my life without her and I wish I could take back some things so that there would never be a doubt in her mind that I appreciate everything she does for me, even when I don't show it very well.
I just want to say I'm sorry mom. You know, for all the times I acted like a bratty teenage girl. I wish I could say I couldn't help it, but we both know that's a lie. Is being mean to your mom a part of growing up? If it is, I wish it wasn't because I have never meant it. I promise. I love you so much.
Abraham Lincoln said, "I remember my mother's prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life." One reason, out of the thousands, of why I love my mom is how often she prays for her children and how much she thinks of us. Our pain is her pain, our happiness is her happiness. My first year as a dance captain was really hard for me. I would feel sick before every football game because I was so nervous I was going to make a mistake. I put a lot of pressure on myself. Before every game I would text my mom and ask her to pray for me. Before any Cougarette function in general I would ask her to pray for me. Her response was always the same, "Of course Sarah, we've been praying all day." Then after the game she would always follow up and ask me how I felt about everything. When I didn't have enough faith in myself, I would remember her prayers.
Mom, thank you for your example. Thank you for spending a part of your prayers pleading with Heavenly Father in my behalf. Thank you for believing in me and supporting me in my every endeavor. I love you.
Cindy Russo is quite sassy and competitive. In this regard I may be her complete opposite. I definitely have my days when some sass comes out but she has got some serious attitude! I love it. I love it, although this is the only time I'll admit it, when she gives me advice on how to handle my dating life - or the lack thereof. She definitely has her opinions. I'm no longer shocked that her advice consists of something like me going up, grabbing the male in question and just laying one on him. In her mind, "how can you know if you even like him if you never kiss him Sarah." Good question mom, you'll just have to trust me on this one.
When I was 12 I was at a dance competition called New York City Dance Alliance. I was in the junior room competing for a scholarship. She knows I'm not a very aggressive person and I will never forget her looking at me before I was supposed to audition and telling me to get in the front row. Her competitive nature provoked my almost non-existent sassy attitude and as I looked at her, I walked to the back row. I can be a pill sometimes, but hey I still got a scholarship. For some reason I just didn't want her to tell me how to do it. (remember I was entering that bratty teenager phase) Oh and have I mentioned that I can count on one hand the performances and competitions that my mother has missed? I've been dancing since I was 4 years old, you do the math.
Thank you for always being my biggest fan. I know that even if I didn't get that scholarship you would have kept on loving me and kept pushing me to do my best. And no, you can't arrange my marriage. But yes, I still love you.
My mom told me that her theme song is Firework by Katy Perry. Seriously? All I could say was, you go girl. Now I can't listen to it without thinking of her. She has so much spunk. When Taylor got home from his mission we would do this thing where we would become really obnoxious out of no where. Kind of like we were 10 years old again. One day she got so sick of us that she looked up from the book she was reading and calmly spit Diet Coke on us. Spunk. That's what that is, it was so dang funny.
It's your birthday mom, go out and do whatever you want. "cuz baby, you're a firework." I love you so much, I hope you have the best day.
Love, Sarah Elise