On a scale of one to 10, mom would be at the top. Although she assumed many roles, I remember her as the top "teacher."

As her 10th child out of 13 children, I am amazed how mom maintained her sanity. (I had nine brothers.) I would relinquish this to her strong fortitude, the love of family and friends, and her religious training. Amen.

Mom was adamant that we follow family tradition. She encouraged us to get a good education, go to church, be polite, take baths, do chores and to be responsible for our actions. In other words, do not tarnish the family name. Since dad and she were from old kama'aina families, she made sure we minded our "peas and carrots."

It seemed that neighbors were closer then and mom did not keep a locked door. She and her neighbors trusted each other and we played together a lot in our huge yards.

She taught all of her children their first alphabets, along with how to play a simple tune on the 'ukulele. I am able to play this tune to this day. She and I spent many moments around the Hammond Player Piano singing songs. My favorite songs are "Moonlight and Roses" and "You Were Meant for Me." I attended the opera "Aida" with mom in the 1940s at the Roosevelt High School auditorium. This started my interest in the opera to this day.

Mom had a knack for fine cooking. She would incorporate her many recipes to turn out some of the best food I have ever eaten. I loved her meatloaf steamed in cabbage leaves, her sweet and sour pig feet/turnip soup, her 'ono navy bean ham hock soup with poi, and the Chinese dishes along with the Hawaiian food. Her huge coconut cream pies with fresh coconut were an out-of-this-world experience, along with the steamed/baked egg custard dessert. We all ate together in one sitting that mom insisted on.

Mom was a good organizer. It showed in our sterile five-bedroom home. Cleanliness was next to godliness, it seemed. She also starched our beddings and our clothes. Sometimes I had a hard time walking in my starched clothes. (I do not starch anymore.)

I have to thank Ka'ahumanu School and Central Intermediate School that educated this dynamic mother of ours who grew up to be the kindest and most caring teacher, mom and tutu to so many of us who are still alive.

My mother, Eileen Soneda, 76, lives in Waipahu with my dad and she has raised four children. I am her third child and my older brother, Michael, her first born, was born retarded. In 2004, my dad, Bolo Soneda, 76, became very ill with vasculitis and was in and out of hospitals and rehabilitation facilities for a year. Throughout that year my mom went to tend to him until he was well enough to come home, and she still continues to be caregiver and wife to him.

In 2006, my brother Michael fell while having a seizure on vacation in Las Vegas and has been brain damaged since the fall. Michael lives at a care home but my mom continues to be his advocate and does so much for both my dad and brother, so sacrificially and never complains.

What my mom has taught me, my two sisters and her five grandchildren is to love others unconditionally. She gives generously to so many people. She truly inspires me with all that she does. In addition to helping my family, she opens her home to elderly women each week for Mahjong, she takes koto and harmonica lessons, and she and my dad entertain at senior citizen homes. She is truly one of a kind and I have learned how to be a better mother and wife because of her. Everyday I praise God for a mom like mine and I know that I can never repay her for all that she does for us, but this little tribute helps to honor her for being my mentor and friend. I love her with all my heart.

Peggy Ruleford is the most caring, loving and supportive mother any child could ask for. She is always there with her heart and arms wide open — never judging and always encouraging. Her amazing spirit and strength shines through in all that she does. She never imposes herself or her ideas and allows us to think for ourselves.

Peggy has always been a strong and loving person. So giving, so caring and so selfless, especially when it comes to her children. And most recently, we saw what a wonder woman she truly was as a mother.

When she got the heartbreaking call about James' devastating motorcycle accident on the morning of Jan. 26, she flew to Hawai'i from Chicago on the next flight out and has been at James' bedside with me since. As a previous LPN, she took on the role of a nurse instantaneously in addition to being a mother, a caregiver and a friend. She also opened her arms to me and gave me the same love she would give her own child. Her thoughtful gestures and selfless acts of sacrifice are countless and priceless — surprising us with goodies, cheering us up with her little jokes and stories, making up silly stories to make us laugh, making sure we had the right nutrients, catering to any special requests we made, in addition to many other daily activities. She has given us such amazing support through this difficult time and we cannot thank her enough. Without her loving spirit, our healing would not be the same. We love you, mom.

Shortly after the birth of my son, someone asked if my relationship with my mother was any different. Although it wasn't then, I would soon discover that one of the most surprising aspects of being a first-time mother was how it changed my relationship with my own mother. Or, more precisely, how it changed my mother. Jeremy's birth somehow triggered a whole new dimension to her that had apparently sat dormant for decades.

While the concept of a grandmother spoiling her grandchildren is hardly novel, somehow I never expected it from my mother. As supportive as she was, I don't think my brother and I ever felt particularly overindulged. Prince Jeremy, on the other hand, was the constant recipient of new and exciting gifts. You would have thought Jeremy actually lived at grandma's house — so full it was of baby toys and paraphernalia. Mom tirelessly purchased bears, toys and for one Halloween, actually knit him five pumpkin caps in different shades and sizes. This, for me, was the first sign that my mother has morphed into another being.

It also baffled me when my mother, who didn't have any particularly unrealistic expectations of me, became genuinely hurt when Jeremy smiled at grandpa before he smiled at her. This began when Jeremy was just an infant and barely recognized his own feet. Mom would get her nose out of joint if he failed to jump to attention when she walked in the door. "Oh my goodness," she'd cry out despondently, "he's already forgotten me." Gads, mom!

I next noticed that my mother, normally so diffident and non-judgmental, had become the pre-eminent expert on childcare and development. Once willing to overlook my quirks and imperfections, she was suddenly quick to chastise me for feeding Jeremy too much, too little, or the wrong foods. She, who let me make my own decisions in life, now felt the need to dictate every aspect of Jeremy's care — how I should dress him, style his hair, and when he should eat and sleep. Was this really my mother?

I recall mom making a life-size papier mache cow and proceeding to teach Jeremy how to "moo" to the cow. Now, I am no child development expert but it seemed a bit peculiar that a kid who barely knew the word "mama" from "gecko" would understand the concept of imitating an animal noise, particularly when, living in busy downtown Honolulu, it was rather unlikely that he'd soon be encountering any live bovines. I suggested we start with a noun — explaining that while Jeremy dearly loves the next-door dog, he'd never felt compelled to bark. Mom listened in that new way she had developed where she might as well be saying, "Poor Jeremy! Pity that his mother knows nothing about babies. Thank goodness I'm here to help." And, sure enough, when I came home later and asked Jeremy, rhetorically, how his day was, my as-of-then nonverbal son responded in a deep voice I barely recognized, "MOOO!!!!" My mother stood beside him beaming proudly and, perhaps, a little triumphantly.

And so I got with the program. I thought Jeremy might enjoy learning how to roar like a lion or meow like a cat. But no, grandma was busy teaching him how to pucker his face up, flutter his arms and "be a fish." Though it wasn't exactly on my "top 10 first-skills for my son to achieve" list, I have to admit it was pretty cute.

I polled my friends with toddlers about their own experiences. One told me that, no, her relationship with her mother did not change. "My mother still bosses me just as she always did, but she now simply adds child rearing to her repertoire," she explained. And how does she cope with it? "Easy. I ignore her just like I did when it was all about me." Another friend lamented, "My daughter breaks my mother's heart all the time, because she is simply not as mature, appreciative,and responsive as my mother expects her to be at her age (2)." "No, my relationship with my mother hasn't changed," responded a third friend, "but let me tell you about my husband ... "

Perhaps this is a more common phenomenon than I imagined. David McCullough reports that Abigail Adams wrote, "I feel already as fond of [my grandson] as if he was my own son, nay, I can hardly persuade myself that he is not." And Franklin Roosevelt's mother used to tell her grandchildren, "You really are mine, you just happened to be borne by your mother Eleanor." Hmmmm ...

I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm thrilled that my mother and Jeremy have a great relationship that will undoubtedly only flourish as Jeremy matures (and mom calms down a bit). I love that when Jeremy does something cute or clever, and my friends are tired of my blathering on about him, I can always count on mom to be excited. I love watching her light up when Jeremy dances to the Wiggles. I love that when I offer to show our home movies (two hours of watching him eat, play, crawl, try to walk, fall, then eat again), my mother is always quick to respond, "yes," she'd love to see it. Again.

So, although Jeremy's grandmother is my very own "Stepford Mother," I am grateful for her involvement, her enthusiasm and her love for Jeremy, and can see how she's positively influencing his development. I mean, any old kid can imitate a mammal, but how many can pucker up like a blow fish? Right, mom??!! (Thanks, mom ... )

My "momma," so rich in wisdom, honesty and humbleness, has left her imprint on my life.

As the eldest of five children, she left her formal education in the fourth grade to help her widowed "okasan" support the family. They didn't have government help in the early 1900s, yet they thrived in their family bond.

My momma also had five children and her dedicated love gave her strength, earnestly working three jobs, never ever voicing the toll it took upon her.

I remember vividly her smiling beauty as she scrubbed the dishes at the kitchen sink while her family enjoyed our evening meal. I have yearned so much for her for more than 20 years and as I reflect upon my life in her care, I realize now how she waited till her family's hunger was satisfied. Then she would amazingly be done with the dishes and ready for her dinner.

Every school year, we would shop for our new pair of shoes, clothes and every school supply. How she sacrificed daily that we were happy and we never knew.

Her wisdom rings in my memory and I diligently strive daily to do my best, for she said, "Always do your best in everything you do, for that's the best that you can do."

She would also say, "Little by little the dust accumulates and so will our efforts." Her wisdom continued on and on!

Momma, you taught me the ways of our Lord even before you knew Him and I am eternally grateful.

You took care of anyone, especially those who were not able to return in any way to you. To care and to help others brought you deep joy, an encompassing joy no one is able to buy.

My ever most precious momma, I love you so!

Growing up, my siblings and I thought we had a "mean" mom, in fact the meanest mom in the whole world. Back then we didn't realize the life lessons we were learning from those distressing experiences. We just thought she was plain mean. We didn't want to be like her and we vowed never do those things to our children!

We couldn't understand why our "heartless" mom refused to bring our homework when we forgot it. One of my sisters failed to bring her homework to school one day. She was not alone because her best friend did the same thing too. The only difference was her friend got her homework delivered to her by first recess. It could have been a major project that would determine our semester grade, but she wouldn't even give it a second thought. It was forgotten and you faced the consequences. The "compassionate" moms would drop everything to make sure their children got credit for their assignments, even if it was just a little worksheet that didn't account for much.

Our "cruel" mom didn't remind us to bring our jackets on cold, rainy days. The "kind" moms made sure their children were dressed in the proper attire and even made sure a jacket was packed if there was the slightest indication the weather would change for the worse. Not our mom; we had to go outside and be our own meteorologist and determine the weather forecast for the day and dress appropriately. If we were smart we would bring an umbrella or jacket just in case our predictions were incorrect. After all, even professionals made mistakes.

The best story was the time my brother overslept and missed the school bus. Our "lazy" mom was at home. She was a stay-at-home mom and could have easily taken him to school. However, she refused to drive him. His heavy school books under one arm and his saxophone case banging against his leg, he walked the 2.7 miles, fuming mad. He had been telling this story well into his adulthood without the true understanding of the impact. How many times did he miss the school bus? Only once. Did he learn a lesson? You better believe it!

Our "uncaring" mom always felt school was very important. She would send us to school even if we weren't feeling well. There was a day our youngest sister wanted to stay home. She had a sore stomach. It wasn't enough for our "horrid" mom. It was just math test anxiety. We had to be nearly on our deathbeds before we could stay home. The "sensitive" moms would keep their children home so they could watch T.V. while they recuperated from the sniffles.

We each grew up with our own strengths and weaknesses. We don't know how our "uncompromising" mom taught us to compliment each others talents. It just happened. We've learned how to work together to help each other out. Sometimes homework became a team effort. One night our brother had a college paper due the next day. Well, he wrote the draft, one sister did the editing, another sister did the typing (it was before computers) and I did the supervising. The paper was done before the night was over.

You see, as adults we can say our "mean" mom taught us to be responsible. She taught us to think and plan ahead. She taught us to be dedicated to the important things in life. She taught us to be team players. Now we have children of our own and understand and appreciate all the life lessons she taught us. We are following in our mom's footsteps. Today our children call us "mean" moms. We are honored to carry the title and we hope to teach our children half of what she taught us.

The lesson learned at my mother's knee that I have come to treasure is the importance of having personal integrity. As a kid, I remember that doing things like sneaking a peek at your classmate's test paper was a cardinal sin. Lying and gossiping were also behaviors that were frowned upon. My mother would always say, "God is watching you every minute," and would point up to the ceiling. She had me convinced that God permeated every inch of our house and there was nothing I could say or do that would escape His notice.

My mother also had a deep sense of responsibility and honoring your commitment. I remember when dad got paid every Friday he would come home and give the money to mom who handled the family finances. She would portion out the money to what needed to be paid: the rent money, the food money, the car payment, gasoline money, dad's weekly lunch money, the kids' school lunch money. Sometimes dad's construction job would be rained out two or three days of the week, and that meant payday Friday would be leaner than usual. Somehow, mom managed to feed us. But the bills were always paid first, even if it meant a week of rice, kidney beans and pickled cabbage. It was an undisputed rule in our house that if we owed money, we needed to pay our debts first. The things we wanted would just have to wait. Paying a bill late was unheard of, and I learned as I grew older that even suggesting this would guarantee an argument with mom.

Mom is 85 years old today and just as feisty as she was 50 years ago when I was a kid. She still lives by the same values she taught us and I have come to realize the true significance of what she instilled in her children. Mom did not raise children who grew up to become famous or wealthy, but she did raise people who value character far above money or fame, and for that I will always be grateful to her.

As a mother of 20- and 22-year-old daughters, I am well aware of the "mean mom" designation. I never thought my behavior and actions as a teen could come back to haunt me. But, alas, some of my very own words and actions have been repeated by my own daughters. Of course, I found myself repeating many of my mother's responses to their teen outbursts. My mother survived my teen years by "sticking to her guns" and never letting me run the show, and I survived my daughters' teen years by doing the same.

I remember many times slamming doors and yelling, "I hate you!" as I stomped up the stairs after being told I could not do something. Also, I remember issuing the ultimatum, "I will run away!" My mother's comment was, "If you go down that driveway, don't bother coming back." Well, that scared me straight —I didn't want to be exiled from the family. Whether she would have followed through on that threat is unknown as it stopped all thoughts of running away. One time I wanted to stay overnight in a tent with some girls from school. My mother talked to me about the behavior these girls had exhibited in the past and then told me, "No, you cannot stay overnight with them." I breathed a sigh of relief as she gave me the excuse I needed to say no to these girls.

Not only did my mother survive my outlandish behavior as a teen, she also taught me many morals and values along the way. When she wanted an honest answer, she would take out the bible and all seven kids had to swear on the bible that they did not commit the crime! Oh, that would make me 'fess up quickly — I could not lie to God. That would be a terrible sin. As she raised seven children and worked many different jobs to help the family, my mother instilled values and morals by taking us all to church every Sunday and Sunday School. Then, we were expected to practice what we learned.

Were there many fights and disagreements among all of us in this family? Most definitely. However, in the end, we all survived and have become successful adults because my mother "stuck to her guns" while we were growing up. She survived my awkward, demanding and self-centered teen years by realizing her job was to guide me even though I'd hate her at the time. When I gave birth to my first daughter at age 24, I finally realized all the sacrifices and love my mother actually provided through the toughest time in my life.

Now, I am hoping that my daughters will "stick to their guns" and be the "meanest moms" on the block for their children someday. This will be a true testament to my love and dedication to the family. I "stuck to my guns" even though my daughters didn't understand at the time why I was so mean! They will get to experience their very own words and actions coming back to haunt them in the future with their children. Then, my daughters will find the same motherly responses heard in the past slipping out of their mouths as they deal with teenagers someday. I will sit back and remind them of their teenage years as they share their frustrations with parenting. Mahalo to my mom and all those moms who "stick to their guns" and show their love for their children even though they may earn the "meanest mom" award.