This is for all the mothers who DIDN'T
win Mother of the Year in 1999.
All the runners-up and all the wannabes.
The mothers too tired to enter or
too busy to care.
This is for all the mothers who froze
their buns off on metal bleachers at soccer
games Friday night instead of watching from cars,
so that when their kids asked,
"Did you see my goal?" they could say,
"Of course, wouldn't have missed it for the world,"
and mean it.
This 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."
This is for all the mothers of Kosovo who
fled in the night and can't find their children.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies
they'll never see.
And the mothers who took those babies and
made them homes.
For all the mothers of the victims of
the Colorado shooting,
and the mothers of the murderers.
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.
For all the mothers who run carpools and
make cookies and sew Halloween costumes.
And all the mothers who DON'T.
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 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 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?
I think 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
This is for reading "Goodnight, Moon"
twice a night for a year.
And then reading it again.
"Just one more time."
This is for all the mothers who taught
their daughters to tie their shoe laces
before they started school.
And for all the mothers who opted
for Velcro instead.
For all the mothers who bite their
lips-sometimes they bleed when their
14 year olds dye their hair green.
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.
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.
This is for mothers who put pinwheels
and teddy bears on their children's graves.
This is for mothers whose children have
gone astray, who can't find the words
to reach them.
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.
with money, mothers without.
This is for you all.
So hang in there.
Please pass along to all
the moms in your life.
"Home is what catches you when we fall -
and we all fall."
A good woman is proud. She respects herself and others.
She is aware of who she is. She neither seeks definition from
the person she is with, nor does she expect them to read her
mind. She is quite capable of articulating her needs.
A good woman is hopeful. She is strong enough to make all her
dreams come true. She knows love, therefore she gives love.
She recognizes that her love has great value and must be
reciprocated. If her love is taken for granted, it soon disappears.
A good woman has a dash of inspiration and a dabble of
endurance. She knows that she will at times have to inspire
others to reach the potential God gave them. A good woman
knows her past, understands her present, and forces toward
A good woman knows God. She knows that with God the
world is her playground, but without God she will just be
A good woman does not live in fear of the future because of
her past. Instead, she understands that her life experiences
are merely lessons that meant to bring her closer to self-
knowledge and unconditional self-love..