This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at football games Friday night instead of watching from cars, so that when their kids asked, Did you see me? they could say, Of course, I wouldnt have missed it for the world, and mean it. This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, Its OK honey, Mommys here. This is for all the mothers in Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya, Gaza who struggle to raise their children In extreme circumstances. This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies theyll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes. For all the mothers of victims of the storms, floods and tornadoes. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their children tight. For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who dont. What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 am. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, a baby dying? So this is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just couldnt. This is for reading Goodnight, Moon twice a night for a year. And then reading it again. Just one more time. This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead. For all the mothers who bite their lips sometimes until they bleed when their 14 year old dies their hair green. Who lock themselves in the bathroom when babies keep crying and wont stop. This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse. This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot. This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls Mom? in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home. This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears on their childrens graves. This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who cant find the words to reach them. This is for all the mothers who sent their sons to school with stomach aches, assuring them theyd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up, Right away. This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation. And mature mothers learning to let go. For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without. This is for you all. So hang in there. Your work is awe-inspiring And your worth is priceless.
Posted on: Sat, 16 Nov 2013 13:55:31 +0000
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