For Moms

This is for all the mothers who DIDN’T win Mother of the Year last year, all the runners-up and all the wannabes, in- cluding 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 on 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 say- ing, “It’s OK honey, Mommy’s here.”

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.

This is for all the mothers of the victims of school shootings, 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.

This is 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?

Is it 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?

Is it the jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, as you bound from bed to crib at 2 a.m. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

Is it 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, or 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.

This is 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 stomachaches, 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.

This is for working mothers and stay-at-home mothers, single mothers and married mothers, mothers with money, and mothers without.

This is for you all. So hang in there!

本文謹獻給所有未能獲得去年“年度母親”的媽媽們，所有的亞軍和希望超越她們的人們，還包括那些太過牢累沒能參加或是太過忙碌而無暇顧及的母親們。

這是寫給所有會在周五晚上到露天球場觀看足球賽的母親們，她們會坐在冰涼的看臺上，而不是從汽車里面觀看。因此，當她們的孩子問：“你看到我得分了嗎?”她們就能回答：“當然，我怎么會錯過你的比賽啊。”事實確實是這樣。

這是寫給所有整晚緊抱生病的孩子，擦掉那些有Oscar Mayer香腸的嘔吐物，并溫柔地說：“好了，寶貝，媽媽在這里。”

這是寫給這些未能見孩子一面而逝去的母親們。也送給那些收養了這些孩子，并給了他們一個家的母親們。

這是寫給這些母親們。她們的孩子成了學校槍擊事件的受害者;她們是殺人犯的母親;她們是烈士的母親;她們坐在電視前心神不寧，滿懷恐懼，孩子一放學安全回家就擁抱孩子的母親們。

這是寫給這些合伙使用汽車，會做餅干，縫制萬圣節衣服的母親們，也寫給那些不做這些事情的母親們。

是什么能成就一個好母親哪?是耐心?同情?還是胸懷的博大?

是同時都具有撫養孩子，做飯，訂紐扣的能力?還是有充滿摯愛的心?

是你看著兒子或女兒消失在街頭，第一次走進校園時的那種失落嗎?

是你從夢中驚醒，在午夜兩點從床上跳起來到嬰兒床邊，輕拍熟睡的寶貝時的那種震撼嗎?

還是不論身在何處，只要聽到有關校園槍擊案、火災、車禍，或者有孩子死亡的消息時，渴望擁抱自己孩子的那種迫切哪?

我是這樣認為的。

因此，這是寫給所有的母親，她們抱著孩子坐下，解釋說養孩子的不易;這也是寫給那些心有余而力不足的母親們。

這是寫給每個晚上都要讀兩遍“晚安，月亮”，之后卻又讀一遍，說“再來一遍”的母親們。

這是寫給所有心情糟糕的母親，她們在商店里責罵她們的孩子，朝死里打他們，甚至像一個兩歲的小孩想在飯前吃根冰激凌一樣，氣的跺腳。

這是寫給所有這樣的母親，她們在女兒開始上學前就教孩子學系鞋帶，還有那些選擇維可牢尼龍搭扣而不是鞋帶的母親。

這是寫給這些母親們，她們看見自己14歲的孩子把頭發染成綠色，會氣的把嘴唇咬出血，當孩子不停的哭喊的時候，她們會絕望的躲在浴室里。

這是寫給這些母親，她們上班的時候，頭發上有唾液，上衣上有奶漬，包里有小孩尿布。

這是寫給這樣的母親，她們教兒子做飯，教女兒跳投籃球。

這是寫給這樣的母親，當她們在擁擠的人群里哪怕聽到一個很小的叫“媽媽?”的聲音，她們就會馬上轉過頭來，即使她們知道孩子在家里。

這是寫給那些在她們孩子的墓前放上風車和泰迪熊的母親們。

這是寫給那些母親們的，她們的孩子誤入歧途，母親又不能找到合適的話來教導他們。

這是寫給這樣的母親們，她們把胃痛的兒子送到學校，而且還對孩子說他們一到學校就好了，結果卻從學校護士那里接到電話，一小時后叫她們去接孩子。

這是寫給年輕母親的，她們忙于給孩子換尿布上，幾乎沒有了睡眠時間。而成熟的母親學著放任他們。

這是寫給所有工作的母親與呆在家的母親，單身的母親與已婚的母親，有錢的母親與沒有錢的母親的。

就這些，到此止筆!