Mothers
>
> This is for 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 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 football or soccer games
instead of watching
> from the warmth of their cars, so 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 "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. A nd 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 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.
>
> 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.
>
> This is for all the step-mothers who raised
another woman's child or
> children, and gave their time, attention, and
love... sometimes
> totally unappreciated!
>
> 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 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? Th e panic,
years later, that comes
> again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear
their key in the door and
> know they are safe again in your home? Or 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?
>
> The emotions of motherhood are universal and so
our thoughts are 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.
>
> 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.
>
> "Home is what catches you when you fall - and
we all fall."
Mothers
>
> This is for 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 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 football or soccer games
instead of watching
> from the warmth of their cars, so 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 "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. A nd 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 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.
>
> 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.
>
> This is for all the step-mothers who raised
another woman's child or
> children, and gave their time, attention, and
love... sometimes
> totally unappreciated!
>
> 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 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? Th e panic,
years later, that comes
> again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear
their key in the door and
> know they are safe again in your home? Or 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?
>
> The emotions of motherhood are universal and so
our thoughts are 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.
>
> 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.
>
> "Home is what catches you when you fall - and
we all fall."
2006-07-12
22:46:27
·
20 answers
·
asked by
Anonymous