A Toast. For mothers.

Here’s to the mothers. The ones who would wake up in the middle of the night to deal with fevers, nightmares, pukes, and pees. No matter if her children are toddlers or (supposedly) grown-ups.

Here’s to the ones who would stay up to wait up for the teenager who went out with friends but pretended like she never heard him sneak in way past curfew. The ones who had the extra energy from God-knows-where to extend grace to her delinquent offspring.

Here’s to the mothers who can never see eye-to-eye with their children. Where every phone call or holiday feels stressed and strained.

Here’s to the overbearing mothers. Where motherhood can only be described in terms of ferocious animals: the tiger moms and the dragon moms. And where mothering anxiety and militaristic might comes to play: the helicopter moms and - bless your heart - the Black Hawks.

Here’s to the neglected mothers. The ones left to their own devices. The invisible ones. Whose sons and daughters have lived their own lives, separate lives. As if she doesn’t exist.

Here’s to the single moms. Whether by design or by circumstance. The ones who feel the loneliness of parenting the most at the end of the day after the kids are all asleep.

Here’s to the busy moms. The ones who are trying to juggle motherhood with excel spreadsheets and meetings and sales calls. It’s not that you’re trying to do it all, but trying to stay true to yourself and be a mom is quite exhausting.

Here’s to the moms who have lost. The ones who don’t even know if they can be classified as a proper “mom” anymore. Whether it’s a loss during pregnancy, or in birth. Or in life. Yes, friend. You are a mother. Proper and true.

Here’s to the moms who became mothers without ever going through pregnancies and births. The ones who can look at a child who is not biologically related to them and love them as their own. Common genetic material is not a prerequisite for motherhood.

Here’s to the ones who care for people. Taking the mantle of “mother” without the title or the recognition. Without the flowers on Mother’s Day. Without anything resembling a family unit to come home to.

Here’s to the mothers. You are important. You are loved. You are seen.