Jack brought this home from school yesterday. My favorite sentence is, "My mom is as pretty as the moon and stars."
This weekend we celebrate moms...those who are raising or have raised humans. Moms are not made by the experience of giving birth. They are made by loving someone who needs them. They are made by joy and celebration over everything from first smiles to mud pies to prom night. They are made by worry and fret over fevers, the influence of peers, and the hard lessons they let their children learn. They are made by kissing boo-boos and taking away Wii time for misdeeds, feeding hungry tummies every single day, getting calls from principals and teachers about issues that make them want to sink through the floor in embarrassment, and bursting with pride the first time their little one remembers to put dirty clothes in the basket. Moms are made by making mistakes and feeling guilty, by moving forward on faith, by praying each and every day that they are doing the right things to raise an adult who can stand competently and happily on his or her own two feet.
Moms are made by holding on and by letting go, and by never, ever forgetting that this human they love was once a helpless baby with a toothless grin.
Let's celebrate our moms--those still with us and those who have passed on--by filling in the blank on one of the sentences in Jack's worksheet above, whichever one speaks to you right now in the moment.*
My mom is special to me because she loved me when I was not lovable.
*If you can't read them, click on the picture to enlarge it.