Real Mothers......
Real Mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it.
Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.
Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.
Real Mothers know that dried playdough doesn't come out of carpets.
Real Mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.
Real Mothers sometimes ask "why me?"
and get their answer when a little voice says, "because I love you best."
Real Mothers know that a child's growth is not measured by height or years or grade...
It is marked by the progression of Mama to Mommy to Mom.



The Images of Mother
* 4 years of age - My Mommy can do anything
* 8 years of age - My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!
* 12 years of age - My Mother doesn't really know quite everything
* 14 years of age - Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either
* 16 years of age - Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned
* 18 years of age - That old woman? She's way out of date!
* 25 years of age - Well, she might know a little bit about it
* 35 years of age - Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion
* 45 years of age - Wonder what Mom would have thought about it
* 65 years of age - Wish I could talk it over with Mom



MOTHERS: EVERY YEAR IS THEIR YEAR,
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 is 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 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, fry a chicken, 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 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 our 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 just couldn't.
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 mess up.
Who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair
and stomp their feet like a tired 2 year old who wants ice cream before dinner.
This is for all the mothers who taught their daughters to tie their shoelaces before they started school.
And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
For all the mothers who bite their lips -- sometimes until they bleed -- when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
Who lock themselves in the bathroom when babies keep crying and won't stop.
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 all the mothers who sent their sons to school with stomach-aches,
assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there,
only to get calls from the school nurse and hour later asking them to please pick them up.
Right away.
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.
Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all.
So hang in there.
You're doing a great job!



You Know You're a Mom When:
1. Your feet stick to the kitchen floor.....and you don't care.
2. When the kids are fighting, you threaten to lock them in a room together
and not let them out until someone's bleeding.
3. You can't find your cordless phone, so you ask a friend to call you,
and you run around the house madly,
following the sound until you locate the phone downstairs in the laundry basket.
4. You spend an entire week wearing sweats.
5. Your idea of a good day is making it through without a child leaking bodily fluids on you.
6. Popsicle's become a food staple.
7. Your favorite television show is a cartoon.
8. Peanut butter and jelly is eaten at least in one meal a day.
9. You're willing to kiss your child's boo-boo, regardless of where it is.
10. Your baby's pacifier falls on the floor and you give it back to her,
after you suck the dirt off of it because your too busy to wash it off.
11. Your kids make jokes about farting, burping, pooping, ect. and you think it's funny.
12. You're so desperate for adult conversation that you spill your guts
to the telemarketer that calls and HE hangs up on YOU!
13. Spit is your number one cleaning agent.
14. You're up each night until 10 PM vacuuming, dusting, wiping, washing, drying, loading, unloading,
shopping, cooking, driving, flushing, ironing, sweeping, picking up, changing sheets, changing diapers,
bathing, helping with homework, paying bills, budgeting, clipping coupons, folding clothes,
putting to bed, dragging out of bed, brushing, chasing, buckling, feeding (them, not you),
PLUS swinging, playing baseball, bike riding, pushing trucks, cuddling dolls, roller balding, basketball,
football, catch, bubbles, sprinklers, slides, nature walks, coloring, crafts, jumping rope,
PLUS raking, trimming, planting, edging, mowing, gardening, painting, and walking the dog.
You get up at 5:30 AM and you have no time to eat, sleep, drink or go to the bathroom, and yet...
you still managed to gain 10 pounds.
15. In your bathroom there is toothpaste on the light fixtures, water all over the floor,
a dog drinking out of the toilet and body hair forming a union to protest unsafe working conditions.
16. You buy cereal with marshmallows in it.
17. The closest you get to gourmet cooking is making rice krispies bars.










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