for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at soccer games
instead of watching from cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see my
goal?" They could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and
for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick children in their arms,
wiping up barf laced with Oscar Meyer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's
OK honey, Mommy's here."
for all the mothers who have had to flee their home
in the night without warning and now can't find their children.
for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see
and for the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew
Halloween costumes and for all the mothers who don't.
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?
that takes you from sleeping like the dead in your bed to a 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 school shooting, a fire, a car accident, a baby dying?
so. So 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
for reading "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year.
And then reading it again, "Just one more time".
for all the mothers who mess up. Who yell at their kids
in grocery stores and swat them in despair and stomp their feet
like a tired two year old who wants ice cream before dinner.
for all the mothers who taught their children to tie
their shoelaces before they started to school and for all
the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
the mothers who bite their lips (sometimes until they bleed)
when their 14 year olds dyed their hair green, red or blue.
for all the mothers who lock themselves in the bathroom
when babies keep crying and won't stop.
for all mothers who show at work with spit-up in their hair
and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
for mothers who teach their sons to cook
and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
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 or are grown.
for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears
on their children's graves.
for all the mothers whose children have gone astray
and who can't find words to reach them.
for all the mothers who sent their child to school with a
stomach ache, assuring that they would be just FINE once
they got there, only to get a call from the school nurse an hour
later asking them to please pick them up right away.
for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and
sleep deprivation. And mature mothers learning to let go.
working moms and stay-at-home moms.
Single mothers and married mothers.
with money and mothers without.
This is for you, so hang in there.
The world would be a terrible place without
the love of mothers everywhere.
You make it a more civil, caring and safe place
for the precious children in our world.
Columnist for the Lincoln