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 alright 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. And for the mothers who lost their baby in that precious 9 months that they will never get to watch grow on earth but one day will be reunited with in Heaven!
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 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. 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 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?
The 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.
Bravo! Everyone I know will be getting a copy of this one. The mothers, the mothers-to-be, the guys I work with who are married to a mother or have a mother back at the house with dad.
Broadway Legend Joined: 12/28/04
I sent this out to a number of great women yesterday - moms and moms-of-the-heart. Thank you!
That is so beautiful. It made me tear up.
Anna Quindlen, of Newsweek writes....
All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who,miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food
from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.
Everything in all the books I once poured over is finished for me now.
Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton., Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education,have all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories. What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and
the well-meaning relations --what they taught me, was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all.
Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then
becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.
When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants:
average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China . Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine.
He can walk, too.
Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the, "Remember-When- Mom-Did Hall of Fame." The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs.. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, "What did you get wrong?". (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food
at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?
But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night.
I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.
Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That's what the books never told me. I
was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.
Aww, BB.
Happy Mother's Day to you, Daddy!
Broadway Legend Joined: 5/10/05
I always look forward to Quindlen's articles when I get my Newsweek in the mail.
Broadway Legend Joined: 6/25/03
Beautiful!
I don't what I would do without my mother. I may not see her everyday anymore now that I am away at college, but the cards of support I get in the mail and the voicemails I find on my phone after a tech rehearsal just to say goodnight, miss you, and that I love you. I really wish I could go home this summer.
But she is happy that I am living a dream. She is what keeps me going.
Love ya, Ma!
Hoy es el dia de los madres en Mexico. !Feliz el dia de los madres a todos los madres del mundo!
<
Especialmente mi mamita.
Avatar: Me with Al Larson, Jonathan Larson's father.
that's really nice.
on mothers day i have a dog sitting job for part of the day. my boss who organizes the jobs for me is my late friend's mother. i'm going to be sure to give her a huge hug when i see her.
Lovely, Boobs.
Our fingerprints don't fade from the lives we touch.
Puppies are babies in fur coats.
Tinfoil...The Terrorizing Terminator
WHY GOD MADE MOMS
All answers given by 2nd grade school children to the following questions:
Why did God make mothers?
1. She's the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.
How did God make mothers?
1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my Mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.
What ingredients are mothers made of?
1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men's bones. Then they mostly use string, I think.
Why did God give you your mother and not some other mom?
1. We're related.
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people's moms like me.
What kind of little girl was your mom?
1. My Mom has always been my mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I don't know because I wasn't there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.
What did mom need to know about dad before she married him?
1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer?
3. Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?
Why did your mom marry your dad?
1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my Mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that Mom didn't have her thinking cap on.
Who's the boss at your house?
1. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because dad's such a goofball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.
What's the difference between moms & dads?
1. Moms work at work and work at home and dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller & stronger, but moms have all the real power 'cause that's who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friend's.
4. Moms have magic, they make you feel better without medicine.
What does your mom do in her spare time?
1. Mothers don't do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.
What would it take to make your mom perfect ?
1. On the inside she's already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know, her hair. I'd diet, maybe blue.
If you could change one thing about your mom, what would it be?
1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I'd get rid of that.
2. I'd make my mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on the back of her head.
Boobs, those are priceless!
Our fingerprints don't fade from the lives we touch.
Puppies are babies in fur coats.
Tinfoil...The Terrorizing Terminator
Just another shout out to all the Mothers out there...hope you are all enjoying your day.
I know I've been a real "muthah" to so many of you. Bless you all.
Boobs, those second grade quotes were hilarious!
Happy Mothers's Day to all of the mothers here.
And know that if your kids don't appreciate all that you do, that we all here do!
My own mother turns 81 in two months, and I hope she is around for many more years.
At 16 she married my father, and 65 years later they are still together.
With two pre-teens and one teenager she went back to school, got her bachelors and masters degrees, and became a wonderful teacher and then a principal.
Helping her set-up her classroom every year was one of the things I looked forward to in the Fall, and I miss doing that.
I've been very lucky to have her in my life.
Broadway Legend Joined: 6/30/05
your mom is the strongest thing in your life.
she gave you life.
do not give her hell.
Look on Yahoo for a great singing baby E mail mothers days card
I tried asking my son these questions. He's not yet even in kindergarten, so his answers are less refined than these older kids. These are his unedited answers.
Q: Why did God make mothers? (Note: Their concept is "god" is rather eastern.)
A: What's THAT?
Q. What ingredients are moms made of?
A: Bones and blood and love.
Q: Why am I your mommy and not some other mom? (Note: Modified to eliminate the need for the word "god.")
A: Because you carried us in you tummy.
Q: What kind of little girl was your mom?
A: She was like me...and BARBIE!
Q: What did your mom need to know about your father before she married him?
A: That he had a mother and a dad. (Note: If I had known what that "mother and dad" were REALLY like, I may have reconsidered this whole deal.)
Q: Why did you mom marry your dad?
A: Because she met him and she loved him.
Q: What's the difference between your mom and dad?
A: My dad has black hair and my mom has yellow hair.
Q: What does your mom do in her spare time?
A: Kiss.
Q: What would it take to make your mom perfect?
A: She's already perfect.
Q: If you could change one thing about your mom, what would it be?
A: She would never get mad.
hehehe, love that!
(I'm sure it's safe to post this... and I'm sure many of you have seen it, but it's still funny!)
Happy Mother's Day!
zep, I never tire of seeing that.....love it!
That was very funny, zep...and sadly so REAL!
I shipped my Mom a mop.
I hope she likes it.
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