Quotes About Motherhood

Finally, thank you to my son: you're still the best thing I've created.

Qualcosa in quello scambio di sguardi tra madre e figlia aveva acciuffato il cuore di Mrs Richardson come un retino per farfalle.

She smelled, Mia thought suddenly, of home, as if home had never been a place, but had always been this little person whom she'd carried alongside her.

She buried her nose in Lydia's hair and made silent promises. Never to tell her to sit up straight, to find a husband, to keep a house. Never to suggest that there were jobs or lives or worlds not meant for her; never to let her hear doctor and think only man. To encourage her, for the rest of her life, to do more than her mother had.

even before the nurses had wiped the baby clean, even before they had cut the cord—touched every part of her child, her tiny flaring nostrils and the faint shadows of her eyebrows and the womb-slicked soles of her feet, making certain she was wholly present, learning her by heart.)

She buried her nose in Lydia's hair and made silent promises. Never to tell her to sit up straight, to find a husband, to keep a house. Never to suggest that there were jobs or lives or worlds not meant for her; never to let her hear doctor and think only man. To encourage her, for the rest of her life, to do more than her mother had. "All

Maybe she didn't know what she was giving up until afterward. Maybe once she saw the baby she changed her mind.

They settle on her with their dark wings then, nearly suffocating her: all of her many mistakes of motherhood.

A part of her wanted to stay home, to simply be with her children, but her mother had always scorned woman who didn't work. "Wasting their potential," she had sniffed. "You've got a good brain, Elena. You're not going to sit at home and knit, are you?" A modern woman, she always implied, was capable - nay, required - to have it all.

remembered then that Lexie, thank god, had stayed over at Serena Wong's house last night. She wondered where Izzy had gotten to. She wondered where her sons were, and how she would find them to tell them what had happened.

This was what would haunt Mrs. McCullough most: that Mirabelle hadn't cried out when Bebe had reached into the crib and lifted her up and taken her away.

Vše zas a znova kon?ilo u jedné a téže otázky: Co d?lá n?koho matkou? Výhradn? biologie, nebo je to láska?)

I want to be more successful as a mother than I am in show business.

I have a wonderful husband. I have three amazing kids.

My kids give me the balance to live right.

Bir anan?n mutlulu?u milletin mutlulu?undan do?uyor, ayn? kökten olan a?ac?n dallar? gibi bir kökten geliyor.

I've seen it before, what mothers and daughters can do to one another during those terrible adolescent years. Grief must be at the bottom of it, for what is sadder for a parent than seeing her daughter shedding girlhood drop by precious drop? And what is more terrifying for a child than to doubt her mother, to begin to see her as a human with faults instead of as a goddess?

As Elizabeth Fisher pointed out in Woman's Creation, human history's first and longest reigning social unit was the mother and child, not the husband and wife.

The two stand in the fast-thinning throng of victims, but they speak as if they were alone. Eye to eye, voice to voice, hand to hand, heart to heart, these two children of the Universal Mother, else so wide apart and differing, have come together on the dark highway, to repair home together and to rest in her bosom.

Eye to eye, voice to voice, hand to hand, heart to heart, these two children of the Universal Mother, else so wide apart and differing, have come together on the dark highway, to repair home together, and to rest in her bosom.

The beautiful lady released her hold of Florence, and pressing her lips once more upon her face, withdrew hurriedly, and joined them. Florence remained standing in the same place: happy, sorry, joyful, and in tears, she knew not how, or how long, but all at once: when her new Mama came back, and took her in her arms again.

Pride is one of the seven deadly sins; but it cannot be the pride of a mother in her children, for that is a compound of two cardinal virtues—faith and hope. This was the pride which swelled Mrs. Nickleby's heart that night, and this it was which left upon her face, glistening in the light when they returned home, traces of the most grateful tears she had ever shed.

When thou art feeble, old, and grey, My healthy arm shall be thy stay, And I will soothe thy pains away, My Mother.

Mommies are just big little girls.