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." Who walk around the house all night with their babies
when they 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. For all the mothers who run car pools and make cookies
and sew Halloween costumes. 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. 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 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. What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? The ability to 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? 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 –