It isn't easy, is it? This being a mom thing is a lot tougher than it looks. I know that it is also one of the most rewarding things a woman can do.

My mom was a child herself, eighteen years old when she gave birth to me. Its funny how I didn't realize how young my mom was when I was growing up. She was just "old" to me. When I started kindergarten she was in her early 20's, an age when a lot of people out there are still "finding themselves". My dad was a world traveller in my childhood days, and the bulk of the child-rearing fell to my mom. Like a lot of moms back then she had a well-thumbed copy of Dr. Benjamin Spock's book on how to raise children. She vocally disagreed with his admonition not to spank your children though. I certainly felt her wrath more than once!

I remember being five years old and mom giving birth to one of my brothers. My dad kept us while she was in the hospital with the baby. Within days of her coming home with a newborn he was off to Europe on a two month business trip. My mom, all of 23 years old, was home alone with three children under six years old. It was a brutal winter that year. I remember the snow drifts piling up outside the house. I remember tears of frustration as she tried to deal with a very colicky baby and two other small boys. But she persevered like she always does.

My love for my mom and dad were different. My dad was the steady hand, a role model, a rock in times of crisis. He worked long hours, took trips, but was always there for the big things in life. Mom was there for all the little things. She changed the diapers. She cooked the meals and did the grocery shopping. She made the Koolaid on hot summer days. She made sure we always had clean clothes and took us shopping when our shoes started to wear out. She ran us back and forth from school events, birthday parties, basketball practice, and band concerts. She made sure we had lunch money. She tended us when we were sick and made the doctor's appointments.

When I was dejected after something bad happened at school, she was the one who sensed it and paid a visit to my bedroom later that night. When I struggled emotionally with all those issues a boy has when he is growing up, she was always right there. She was the nurturer, the one who understood when you burst into tears after being mistreated by the basketball coach. She fought for us like a tigress when she felt like we had been wronged. That was my mom and I loved her for it.

I now have something of a partnership with my mom. She helps me so much with the kids. I don't know how I could have the career path I'm on without her. I help her in various ways, filing her taxes, fixing leaky toilets, moving furniture, teaching her how to use email. We discuss what is best for my kids and for my niece that she is raising. She gives me insight gained from raising five children into adulthood. I give her the perspective of someone who understands modern teenagers much better than she does. We've comforted each other over the loss of my dad. It is a partnership that works well.

Sometimes I still need her to be just my mom and to let me unburden my soul to her. She's happy to oblige. I'm almost 45 years old and I still need my mom just like I still needed my dad. I don't always agree with her, but I always feel better after I've talked to her. I know she has the best interests of me and my children at heart, and that is a powerful thing. That is what I always knew about her. She always wanted what was best for me. A pure, unvarnished motherly love.

I know many other moms out there of course. The mother of my kids who will see them in a couple of weeks. My second wife who provided motherly love at a critical time in the development of the kids. My brother's wives whose love for their children radiates from their pores. Mystery Girl, who has raised two boys into young men. The mom who has a son serving in Iraq. The single mom who works two jobs just to make ends meet. The suburban mom who volunteers at the school library. The mom of a son who is fighting a dread disease and refuses to give up. The mother of an autistic boy who loves him unconditionally. The mom of the handicapped son who battles through the daily frustration and is always there for him. The mom who curls up with her kids each evening to read stories to them. The mom thinks about going back to school, but for now devotes herself to raising her kids. The mom of adults who knows that even adults still need their mom sometimes. The mom who thinks she can't take any more but always does. The mom who is struggling in her marriage but does her best to make sure the kids aren't negatively impacted. The mom who wonders if she is doing the right thing and almost always does. The mom who has gone through a difficult divorce but tries to make sure she is still strong for her kids. The mom who sees much of herself in her daughter and is trying to keep her from making the same mistakes.

My mom. These moms. Your mom. Not all of them fit the mold, but almost all of them love their kids in that special way that warms us to our souls.

Happy Mother's Day to all of you wonderful moms out there. You make the world go 'round.
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