Mothers and Moms...

This is an email that makes its rounds at this time
of the year. Too bad the authors name doesn't go
with it. As it took a lot of thought.
I think we understand our own mothers, when we
become mothers ourselves.


This is for the mothers who have sat up all night
with sick toddlers in their arms,wiping up barf laced
with Oscar Mayer weners and cherry Kool-Aid saying,
It's okay honey, Mommy's here.'Who have sat in rocking
chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.

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. For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies
and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.

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. This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections
are hanging on their refrigerator doors. And for all the mothers
who froze their buns on metal bleachers at baseball and softball
games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars.
And that when their kids asked, 'Did you see me, Mom?' they
could say, 'Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world,' and
mean it.

This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the
grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their
feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the
mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse
happens.This is for all the mothers who sat down with their
children and explained all about making babies. And for all the
(grand)mothers who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read ' Thumpity-Thump Gets Dressed'
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 shoe
laces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted
for Velcro instead.This is for all the mothers who teach their sons
to cook and their daughters to throw a ball. This is for every mother
whose head turns automatically when a little voice
calls 'Mom?'in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring
are at home -- or even away at college -- or have their own families.

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

For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when
their 14 year olds dye their hair green. For all the mothers of
the victims of recent 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 all the
mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray
they come home safely from a war.

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 in her heart?
Is it the ache she feels when she watches her son or daughter
disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the
very first time? The jolt that takes her from sleep to dread,
from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put her hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when she just
wants to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again
in her home? Or the need to flee from wherever she is and hug
her child when she hears news of a fire, a car accident, a child
dying? The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our
thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes
and sleep deprivation...And for 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. For all of us...Hang in there. In the end we can
only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them.
And pray and never stop being a mother...