Quotes About Parenting

You've flaunted my authority, coddled that boy, and let him do as he pleases.

The simple truth is that Mother and Dad were two of the most quarrelsome people who ever lived together. I loved them both dearly, and they were two wonderful individuals, but they were always at odds, and they really only stayed together because of Bud and me.

As for mothers, many of them are for escorting their daughters to public places, because they themselves like racketing.

I hate my life.' I want to say, I know. I kind of hate mine, too. But I don't think you're allowed to say that to your children. You're supposed to protect them from realizing how excruciating things can get and that you have no control.

I know, the little kids came with their mommies," Colleen said. "I'm glad we're old enough to come alone." She could still hear Colleen

He didn't want his children to be angry and black, but black and well prepared.

So he thinks he has a baby and everything falls into place? What gets me is, people have babies and they're thinking what the baby will do for them . It's sick.

What does it mean to redirect children out of fear that they would be unhappy?

To want happiness for a child can be to want to straighten the child out.

I've decided it's not about me at all. It's a protective mechanism for them, a way of buffering themselves against my future death, like when teenagers distance themselves from their parents in preparation for leaving home.

You call your child by the names of all your other children and finally the dog before you get to his.

It's as if once you hit high school, you're programmed, like a robot, to be an asshole to your parents.

This was why Mom had told me to keep an eye on her. As tough as Dixie was, when it came to Dad she was a regular girl who wanted her father to love her. So

Once, I did a halfhearted job of sweeping and mopping the kitchen floor, and that's the first place she checked because she knew I'd do a lousy job because "that's the kind of kid you are." As in I'm not a "go-getter who makes her own luck" like she is, so I'm "never going to get anywhere in this world." She knew all that because of two missed Cheerios and a small dust bunny.

Every time my parents bring up the subject of if I want to go back to Lake Hills or transfer somewhere else it makes me want to take more pills. Like that's even a possibility. Anything that might resemble a pill is under lock and key in our house. The next time I get my period, I'm going to have to ask Mom's permission for a Midol. She's probably going to ration my use of tampons in case I try to make a noose out of the strings.

When you have a kid, you sign on for the whole package: good, bad, everything in between. you can't just dip in and out, picking and choosing the parts you want and quitting when it's not perfect.

You're always a kid around your parents… Unless they're acting like children. Then you don't get the chance.

Imagine the baby has moved in. They're a cute little creature who's just weeks old. Your parenting instincts are in full throttle. Now enters your beloved puppy. Are they used to lounging on the furniture or jumping up for attention? Do they order you to give them a back rub by pawing, barking, or nudging you? Can you see the problem that's developing there? They won't stop this behavior just because you're holding a newborn

If I should have a daughter… I'm gonna paint the solar system on the backs of her hands so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say 'oh I know that like the back of my hand.

Mom will not be happy if we wake her up. (She already got annoyed at me once today when I told her she was six minutes and forty-five seconds late picking me up at school. I didn't mean to make her feel bad. But I have a supercool timer on my watch, and if I'm not going to use it to tell her how late she is, then what am I going to use it for?)

I found that life intruding on writing was, in fact, life. And that, tempting as it may be for a writer who is a parent, one must not think of life as an intrusion. At the end of the day, writing has very little to do with writing, and much to do with life. And life, by definition, is not an intrusion.

Every day as I wave to my children when I drop them off at school, or let one of them have a new experience—like crossing the street without holding my hand—I experience the struggle between love and non-attachment. It is hard to bear—the extreme love of one's child and the thought that ultimately the child belongs to the world. There is this horrible design flaw—children are supposed to grow up and away from you; and one of you will die first.

The fact that a child that age was allowed to go out looking for the four-legged serial killer that the king has dispatched his personal gun-bearer to track down speaks of an older, hands-off parenting style.

It simply had never occurred to Annie during all her years of child-rearing that terrible things would not happen to her children just because she would not do terrible things to anyone else's.