Quotes About Parenting

I can't keep a baby," A.J. says firmly. "I haven't slept in two nights. She's a terrorist! She wakes up at, like, insane times. Three forty-five in the morning seems to be when her day begins. I live alone. I'm poor. You can't raise a baby on books alone.

When you have children, you'll never be able to worry about a friend as much again," Dov said. "I'm tired," Sadie said. "I should go." Sadie hung up the phone. She pulled Sam's blanket over her head, and then she went to sleep.

Or, I'm sorry, is Ichigo a him?" "Sam and Sadie say them." "Cool. When the parents can't recognize them. That moment is straight out of The Odyssey.

What can a single man know about child rearing?

The Fall of the House of Usher' is a fair primer on what not to do with children.

Yes, Dad. Dad is what I am. Dad is what I became. The father of Maya. Maya's dad. Dad. What a word. What a little big word. What a word and what a world!

That night, A.J. calls me about the proper things to feed a baby. He's got Maya at his apartment, and I agree to go over." "The day after that, Marian Wallace washes up by the lighthouse," Lambiase says.

And she always wants to read the same book. And it's, like, the crappiest board book. The Monster at the End of This Book?

A.J. several Google searches to determine bathing protocol: appropriate temperature bath water two-year-old; can a two-year-old use grown-up shampoo?; how does a father go about cleaning a two-year-old girl's private parts without being a pervert?; how high to fill tub—toddler; how to prevent a two-year-old from accidentally drowning in tub; general rules for bath safety, and so on.

Her diaper is soiled. A.J. has never changed a diaper in his life, though he is a modestly skilled gift wrapper. Back when Nic was alive, Island used to offer free gift wrap at Christmas, and he figures that diaper changing and gift-wrapping must be related proficiencies.

You love your daughter, but you have fewer choices than you once did. Your choices are dictated by her. Maybe not fewer choices. Maybe it's that the answers are more obvious, so you don't pose the questions. Life unspools more inevitably.

A.J. has never changed a diaper in his life, though he is a modestly skilled gift wrapper. Back when Nic was alive, Island used to offer free gift wrap at Christmas, and he figures that diaper changing and gift-wrapping must be related proficiencies.

Lambiase thinks he hears the little girl call A.J. "Daddy." "Ugh, I keep telling her not to call me that," A.J. says. "But she won't listen.

Yes. Dad. Dad is what I am. Dad is what I became. The father of Maya. Maya's dad. Dad. What a word. What a little big word.

A.J. kisses his daughter on the forehead. He is delighted to have produced such a fantastic nerd.

In his apartment, he finds Maya by herself. Her eyes look moist. "I threw up, Daddy." "I'm sorry." A.J. locates the lighter in his drawer. He slams the drawer shut. "Where's Amelia?" "Are you going to propose?" Maya asks. "No, darling. Not at this particular moment. I've got to deliver a lighter to an alcoholic." She considers this information. "Can I come with you?" she asks.

She's worse than a puppy. And a man like me shouldn't even have a puppy. She's not potty-trained, and I have no idea how to do that kind of thing or any of the related matters either. Plus, I've never really liked babies. I like Maya, but . . . Conversation with her lacks to say the least. We talk about Elmo, and I can't stand him, by the way, but other than that, it's mainly about her. She's totally self-centered.

My mother had asked me once after I was grown what my dad could have done differently, instead of bullying his way through my rebellion. "I wish he'd just told me how much he loved me," I answered her. "I wish he could have just said, 'You are precious to me; I won't let you put yourself in danger.

My parents' marriage was very rocky. They were always arguing. When they split up when I was in my 20s, my brother and I were both delighted because we knew they weren't good for each other.

I would see a little Torquatus, stretching his baby hands from his mother's lap, smile a sweet smile at his father with lips half parted.

We have a baby now at my house, all day long. And all night long. I wonder why they say you have a baby? The baby has you.

You always get drugs when you go and see the doctor with the baby. The drugs are for me and Mama.

We inculcate in our children the sensibilities of raccoons, a fascination with shiny objects and an appetite for garbage, and then carp about 'the texting generation' as if thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds who couldn't boil an egg are capable of creating a culture. They grow on what we feed them. It has never been otherwise. The only thing that changes is the food.

The father of a daughter is nothing but a high-class hostage. A father turns a stony face to his sons, berates them, shakes his antlers, paws the ground, snorts, runs them off into the underbrush, but when his daughter puts her arm over his shoulder and says, 'Daddy, I need to ask you something,' he is a pat of butter in a hot frying pan.