kariskhaos


Sunday Blessing: Calling all Mothers
November 13, 2011, 6:30 am
Filed under: blessings, discipline, homework, hospitality, humor, love, Parenting | Tags: , , , ,

My Sunday blessing is dedicated to my sister Kathi who has had parenthood thrust upon her for a short while. She too is now included in this long line of mothers.
The following came to me in an email a couple of years ago, it was not signed, I am sure it was around mothers day. It touched me because it is authentic in its desire to honor all mothers. I too want to honor all mothers, not just on mother’s day but on the very day you get the worst mother of the year award. You are amazing, what you do matters and tomorrow is a new day! 

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 – all mothers.

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