Wonderful Mothers

If you send this to just one person, it should make it all the way
around by Mother's Day.

This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick
toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Kraft dinner and
wieners, birthday cake, and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's OK honey,
Mommy's here."

Who have walked around the house all night with their babies when they
kept crying and wouldn't stop.

This is for all the mothers who have shown up at work with spit-up in
their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.

For all the mothers who have run car pools and made dozens of cookies
for school teas and sewn Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who
HAVEN'T because they're at work trying to keep on top of the bills.

This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And
the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes and all their
love.

This is for all the mothers who have frozen their buns off on metal
bleachers at hockey, baseball or soccer games any night of the week
instead of watching from their cars, so that when their kids asked,"Did
you see me?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for
the
world," and meant it.

This is for all the mothers who have yelled at their kids in the
grocery store and swatted them in despair when they stomped their feet
like a tired 2-year old does, who wants ice cream before dinner, and
then hated themselves for "losing" it.

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.

For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a
year. And then read 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.

This is for all the mothers who taught their sons to cook and sew and
their daughters to be brave and strong (and 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 all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach
aches, assuring them they'd 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. And they do.

This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, and who can't find
the words to reach them.

For all the mothers who bite their lips sometimes until they bleed when
their 14-year-olds dye their hair green.

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 the 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?

Or the terror in your heart at 1 AM when your teenager with the new
driver's license is an hour late getting home.

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? Or to feel the dull
ache as you look in on your sleeping daughter or son the night before
they leave for a college in another city.

The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear
news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?

For all the mothers of the victims of all the school shootings, and the
mothers of those who did the shooting. 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.

This is for mothers who have tearfully placed flowers and teddy bears
on their children's graves. Whose children have died from illness,
accidents and the worst of all and hardest to comprehend, suicides.

This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep
deprivation.


And mature mothers who have learned and are still learning, to let go.

For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.

Single mothers and married mothers.

Grandmothers whose wisdom and love remains a constant for their grown
children and their children's children.

For Mothers with money, and Mothers without.

This is for you all.

So hang in there.

Please pass this along to all the Moms in your life.

"Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall."