I haven’t been at this mom thing long. At least, not long enough to realize when someone says “Happy Mother’s Day!” they could be talking to me. I still have a lot to learn. You could say I’m the Beta version. I mean, I’m still working on the sleeping with one eye open thing. And it will be years before my guilt trips are fully perfected. I’m pretty good at counting to three. Oh, and I can even do it in Spanish. I know how to soothe a good head bump cry and even a middle if the night scared of the dark cry. But I know my toughest years lay ahead. If I were in a Catholic Church right now, I’d confess that I still call my mom when I’m sick. And I’m 40. This job is just beginning for me. Luckily, my mom is Mom 2.0. She’s been through it all – the sleepless nights, the tantrums, the shapeless scribbles hung on the fridge, the lost Barbie shoes, the first day of school, fights with best friends, crushes, driver’s license tests, more sleepless nights, weekends home from college, the first day of a real job, weddings and grandchildren. She was at every chorus concert (no one should have to endure that), every parent night and everything in between. But I now know the hardest part of it all wasn’t the being a supportive mom part. It was the letting go part. Mom 2.0 once told me about the time she dropped me off at preschool and as I happily exited the car and skipped into the building, she sat in the car and cried. I get it now. And I’m only in Beta. Little J just celebrated his second birthday, and if you asked me, I just brought him home yesterday. I’m sure if you asked Mom 2.0, she would say the same about me. Thank you, Mom 2.0, for all of it. For showing me what it really means to be mom, for always holding on and letting go. Happy Mother’s Day.