For all us mom's on Mother's Day

[Guest guest]

Okay guys, happy 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 Meyer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid

> saying, “It’s OK honey, Mommy’s here.†Who walk around the house all

night

> with their babies when they keep crying and won’t stop.

>

> This if for all the mothers who show up for 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 all the

> mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at football or soccer

games

> Friday night instead of watching from 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 mean 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 Moonâ€

twice a

> night for a year. And then read it again, “Just one more time.â€

>

> 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 teach their sons to cook and their

> daughters to sink a jump shot. This is for all the mothers whose heads turn

auto

> matically 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.

>

> This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can’t find the

> words to reach them. For all the mothers who bit 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 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 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 fire, a car

> accident, a child dying?

>

> For all the mothers of the victims of all these 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 the mothers who put pinwheels

> and teddy bears on their children’s graves.

>

> 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. “Home is what

catches

> you when you fall – and we all fall.â€

>

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