worm761
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- Joined
- Feb 4, 2001
- Messages
- 6,964
a friend just sent this to me. hope you enjoy.
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
carpools 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 2A.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."
Please pass this to a wonderful mother
you know. I just did.
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
carpools 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 2A.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."
Please pass this to a wonderful mother
you know. I just did.
