To the mother who was up at 5:00am reading Tinkerbell stories by flashlight, under the covers.
To the mother who will forego a new handbag this year to contribute to the 529.
To the mother who spent yesterday sitting vigil by a small hospital bed. And will do so again today. And tomorrow. And the next day…
To the mother who braves the schoolyard in heels and a pencil skirt, Blackberry in hand, all at once feeling both sad and grateful to be off to a day at the office.
To the mother who lets her kid spend the day in pajamas every now and again, simply because it is easier.
To the mother who cries once in a while. But laughs even harder.
To the mother who bakes for the school fundraiser with her AmEx.
To the mother who knows it takes a village, but that she can always find a way to do it on her own.
To the mother who does it without an epidural. And to the mother who does it with.
To the mother who remembers the “name” of every stuffed animal in the house. And tucks them all in at night.
To the mother who does everything her mother did and says everything her mother said – though she always swore she wouldn’t.
To the mother who believes the best iPad app is “babysitter”.
To the mother who still counts the ten fingers and ten toes, just as a reminder of how perfect they really are.
To the mother who loves her kids. But loves it even more when they are sound asleep.
To the girl who changed overnight when she became a mother, and will never be the same.
And to the fathers behind those mothers, who make each of them what they are.