My mother parented two young children while battling severe mental illness and psychotic episodes. My father described her as “meticulous” in the way she shielded us from the fallout of her suffering, including admitting herself to inpatient treatment when necessary. She was very ill. And she struggled immensely, in ways we didn’t understand until we were much older. But she would have done anything, suffered anything, if it meant we were alive, safe, and happy. And we are. She raised us to adulthood, despite all of her challenges; watched us get married, supports and encourages us to be good people. She still fights to this day, for us. That’s who I want to celebrate. I want to celebrate the mothers who have fought like hell to protect their children, even from themselves at times. The ones who understood the sacred mission to protect little minds and little bodies, and pursued their mission relentlessly until it was completed. YOU are MY heroes. 🫶