I don't believe it takes the pain of childbirth to make a mom. I
believe it is having unconditional love and acceptance in one's heart to make a mom or a
dad. So here is to all the women. If you have ever babysat someone else's kids, walked the
hospital hall's with another mother and felt her anguish, or if you have ever just felt
the tug at your heart over the sweetness of a toddler's smile, or laughed at the absurdity
of a teenagers crazy hair. This is for you.
In honor of our mothers!
This is for all the mothers who DIDN'T win Mother of the Year
All the runners-up and all the wannabes.
The mothers too tired to enter
or too busy to care.
This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off
on metal bleachers at soccer games
Friday night instead of watching from cars,
so that when their kids asked, "Did you see my goal?"
they could say "Of course,
wouldn't 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, "It's OK honey, Mommy's here."
This is for all the mothers of Kosovo who fled in the night
and can't find their children.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies
they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies
and made them homes.
For all the mothers of the victims
of the Colorado shooting, and the
mothers of the murderers.
For the mothers of the survivors,
and the mothers who
sat in front of their TVs in horror,
hugging their child who just came home
from school, safely.
For all the mothers who run carpools
and make cookies and sew Halloween
costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
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 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 a.m. 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? I think so.
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 couldn't.
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 mess up.
Who yell at their kids in the
grocery store and swat them in despair
and stomp their feet like a tired two
year old who wants ice cream before dinner.
This is for all the mothers who taught their daughters
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 olds dye their hair green.
Who lock themselves in the bathroom
when babies keep crying and won't 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
children's graves.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray,
who can't find the words to reach them.
This is for all the mothers who sent their sons
to school with stomach-aches,
assuring them they'd be just FINE once they
got there, only to get calls from the school nurse
and 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.
[Author Unknown]
This is dedicated to my mother "Yvonne"
"I love you mom"
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