Here’s to mothers who bravely waited until the bus rounded the corner to burst into tears.
Here’s to mothers who have bandaged imaginary boo-boos and applied ice packs for tummy aches.
Here’s to mothers who have fished poop out of bathtubs, pellet by pellet, without so much as gagging.
Here’s to mothers who have slept in twin beds or on hardwood floors, just to be within an arm’s reach of their needy child.
Here’s to mothers who have been away for days, missing their children so badly they could taste it, only to arrive home completely unnoticed.
Here’s to mothers who wonder if the teenage babysitter is a better mother than they are.
Here’s to mothers who have given up their un-licked ice cream cone, because their child’s fell flat on the sidewalk.
Here’s to mothers who let their children dress themselves and hope with all their might that the rest of the world is aware of that fact.
Here’s to mothers who bite their tongues instead of saying “I told you so” when their children so deserve it.
Here’s to mothers who would gladly take the broken arm or stomach bug or broken heart if it could spare their child the pain.
Here’s to mothers who find their expensive hair products poured down the drain and their brushes filled with plastic doll hair.
Here’s to mothers who wear evidence of their children, not only under their clothing, but on it as well.
Here’s to mothers who are ecstatic to find a worm or spot a garbage truck in action, even though they find both disgusting.
Here’s to mothers who want to both fast forward and rewind time all in the span of ten minutes.
Here’s to mothers who never feel completely at peace unless all of their children are under their own roof.
Here’s to stretch marks and saggy boobs and c-section scars.
Here’s to overflowing laundry baskets, toothpaste-covered bathroom sinks and plastic toy littered front lawns.
Here’s to still suffering from baby fever even when your own children are driving you insane.
Here’s to our own mothers, who made us the women we are today.
Here’s to our daughters, who we can’t help but hope will become mothers themselves.
Here’s to mothers who have suffered our greatest fear and live in a world without their child.
Here’s to us; ALL of us.
Related post: The Scary Mommy Manifesto