Best 789 of Motherhood quotes - MyQuotes
I wanted to say, 'This is my life: sitting around dying of boredom, the whining, the tantrums, the baby weight, the endlessness of it all. The way the clock drags all day until Birdie’s naptime, at which point it magically speeds up, and I look up from scrolling around on the internet having not gotten to anything that I vowed to complete when I had the time: a real proper blog post, some freezable dinners, an updated resume, reading an actual book without interruption. It is soul-killing, hour by hour, to have nothing on the horizon but trips to Target, picture books that I read again and again and again until I could recite them in my sleep, new shoes to buy and watch my daughter outgrow like those super-sped-up videos of flowers blooming, an endless line of little kid shoes growing bigger and bigger while my own life grows smaller and smaller, too. My schedule used to be full of town halls and correspondence with people whose lives were being impacted by our policies. I used to spent my days figuring out how to connect with people about the things they cared most about, how to solve real problems. And now it’s just ‘oh, we’re out of baking soda so the diaper pail is making Birdie’s room smell like the town dump. Better go to Target.’ And that’ll be a whole day’s accomplishment. Shit.' But I didn’t say all that. I knew by now, after having versions of this conversation a hundred thousand times, that Graham would never understand. Could never understand.
A question that always makes me hazy is it me or are the others crazy' Albert Einstein
You’ll sacrifice for your child in ways you had never imagined. And they’re not exciting and earth shattering ways, either. They’re small, seemingly insignificant gestures that mean the world to them.
You make mistakes as a parent. Then you wish you hadn't said that, or you wish you hadn't told them how to dress. You cringe.
You don't have to be a mother to experience mother-shame. Society views womanhood and motherhood as inextricably bound, therefore our value as women is often determined by where we are in relation to our roles as mothers or potential mothers.
I have a lot on my plate. I'm not going to lie about it, I'm tired. I'm really tired but I'm also very happy with my life.
We must accept what we are given, we do not have the power to change everything. Be Mindful. Be Present. Be Grateful.
A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother.
Mamas are always crying about how one day they see you as a baby, and the next morning, they see you growed up.
The Mommy Mystique tells us that we are the luckiest women in the world -- the freest, with the most choices, the broadest horizons, the best luck, and the most wealth. It says we have the knowledge and know-how to make "informed decisions" that will guarantee the successful course of our children's lives. It tells us that if we choose badly our children will fall prey to countless dangers -- from insecure attachment to drugs to kidnapping to a third-rate college. And if this happens, if our children stray from the path toward happiness and success, we will have no one but ourselves to blame. Because to point fingers out at society, to look beyond ourselves, is to shirk "personal responsibility." To admit that we cannot do everything ourselves, that indeed we need help -- and help on a large, systematic scale -- is tantamount to admitting personal failure.
Motherhood unwittingly molds us into all we are now, or are - destined to be.
I feel more than a mother’s fondness and anxiety, when I reflect on the dependent and oppressed state of [my daughter’s] sex. I dread lest she should be forced to sacrifice her heart to her principles, or principles to her heart. With trembling hand I shall cultivate sensibility, and cherish delicacy of sentiment, lest, whilst I lend fresh blushes to the rose, I sharpen the thorns that will wound the breast I would fain guard—I dread to unfold her mind, lest it should render her unfit for the worlds she is to inhabit—Hapless woman! What a fate is thine!
Motherhood is the second oldest profession in the world. It never questions age, height, religious preference, health, political affiliation, citizenship, morality, ethnic background, marital status, economic level, convenience, or previous experience.
Florence imagined the Hammer and Sickle metallurgical plant to be an enormous brick factory like the ones in New York. But as she approached she saw it was in fact a small city of its own
I'd wrestled against the inner voice of my mother, the voice of caution, of duty, of fear of the unknown, the voice that said the world was dangerous and safety was always the first measure and that often confused pleasure with danger, the mother who had, when I'd moved to the city, sent me clippings about young women who were raped and murdered there, who elaborated on obscure perils and injuries that had never happened to her all her life, and who feared mistakes even when the consequences were minor. Why go to Paradise when the dishes aren't done? What if the dirty dishes clamor more loudly than Paradise?
The best thing she was, was her children.
She could not, she had thought as she bent to kiss the baby's flushed cheek, have loved this child more if it had come from her own flesh.
A father cannot even come close to playing the role that a mother plays in a child’s life.
Pregnancy sucks the nightlife out of you.
Passion stimulates you, love intoxicates you, marriage sobers you, and parenthood tries you.
Positive thinking is so firmly enshrined in our culture that knocking it is a little like attacking motherhood or apple pie.
Agu Jaachynma N. E.
The 2 Perfect Recipes for Rearing & Raising Godly Children are: Stay On Your Knees for Direction & Stand On Your feet as an Example,
Long ago you were a dream in your mother's sleep, and then she awoke to give you birth.
Moms come in all shapes and sizes. There is no formula for the perfect mom. But there is one thing we all have in common - and that is the deep love we carry for our sons & daughters. Love takes many forms: It looks like a cuddle after a scraped knee. It looks like working two jobs to make ends meet. It looks like giving your last mouthful to your child who asks for a bite. It looks like sleepless nights with the kid who has a temperature. It looks like enforcing consequences for actions. It looks like a thousand packed lunchboxes. It looks like being your child’s biggest fan. It looks worn knees from praying and it looks like “I love you” said a million times. Mothers are the glue that holds a family together.
You’re saying, “What the hell am I gonna do with her?” You’re saying, “Shit, did she take her pills?” You’re saying, “Once upon a time, I used to have a little girl.
Feminists have emphasized for a long time the importance of each woman's individual entity and the necessity of economic independence. Perhaps it was necessary. But now I think we need some emphasis on the instinctive side of life, sex and motherhood.... Life isn't all earning your living. Unfortunately we fall in love and Feminism must take that into consideration.
Motherhood is a Sisyphean task. You finish sewing one seam shut, and another rips open. I have come to believe that this life I'm wearing will never really fit.
You Might Not Be A Wife Material, Neither Might You Be Worth Mothering Anyone's Child, According To PEOPLE. You Are However ENOUGH To Make God Leave His Throne And Come Down To Earth To Change Your Situation. You Are ENOUGH To Make Mary Virgin Again For Your Worth To Be Seen Not By The Naked Eye. You Are ENOUGH To Reverse The Curse Of Adam And Eve For God To Redeem You. You Are ENOUGH, My Sister, For Jesus To Be Crucified Again, Just For God To Refill Your Cup.
Life began with waking up and loving my mother's face.
In order for them to be the best they can be, my children need me to be the best version of me I can be. That means taking charge of our lives, being strong even if I don’t feel it,being brave and believing that I can make things better.
We need to imagine a world in which every woman is the presiding genius of her own body. In such a world women will truly create new life, bringing forth not only children if and as we choose but the visions, and the thinking, necessary to sustain, console and alter human existence-a new relationship to the universe. Sexuality, politics, intelligence, power, motherhood, work, community, intimacy will develop new meanings; thinking itself will be transformed. This is where we have to begin.
God save me ere I have any babies. They are grabby, clingy creatures who steal your figure and always want a ribbon or a wooden sword. And who sometimes make you die bearing them.
We seem to feel as though the life our children have -- that we have built for them -- is just a delicate house of cards, held together by the most intricate balancing of all its carefully selected components, and that the slightest shock, the slightest jar to all our perfect orchestration, will bring the whole edifice crashing down.
Sunset was just then settling over Red Square. There seemed some hidden vision to be gleaned. A message about man’s chaotic spirit and his sombre dignity. His dignity and his power. His power and his purpose. She was sure that there was some thread there, but the burden of decoding it made her feel too tired
Before I had kids, I was one of those people who insisted my future children wouldn’t need the crutches of ketchup, butter and ranch dressing to eat their food. Then I had kids. Then I became one of those people whose children ate nothing. Then I became one of those people who gave their kids ketchup, butter and ranch dressing with their food. And they ate it.
The way a crane creates, then erases itself, from the skyline." He'd been referring to how I, as a copywriter, created R.H. Macy's, but the same metaphor might easily have been applied to how I, as a mother, was creating my son.
Louise Berliawsky Nevelson
I think people should think a million times before they give birth. The guilts of motherhood were the worst guilts in the world for me. They were really insurmountable. You see, you are depriving another human being of so many things, and the other party also knows it.
He'd unbuttoned his shirt so the night breeze would soothe him; his body always ran too hot. The blood. Too hot. The large, gold crucifix on his neck, dangling to his thick chest hairs, caught there, and winked in the candlelight. His childhood prayers. For food. Warmth. His beloved mother. That the cruelty of his father. Stop. No more. Beatings. He never. Stopped. Beating her. Mama. [...] Pompeii remembered - like tuning into a clear TV channel - his mother's gentle face. Her fingertips on his boy's face, calming him to sleep. The sound of his father's drunken entrance, when she would hold her breath, stop stroking his boy face.
Comic Strip Mama
Sometimes being a MOM is like a good ol’ country song! You lose your sleep, you lose your hair, you lose your patience, you lose your energy, you lose your memory AND you lose your SANITY! But you DO IT all for LOVE!
There is a world of difference between the experience of 'care' – the wiping of a bottom, the bathing of a body: basic biological obligations – and the intimacy that makes us want to live.
Motherhood is beautiful. Everything [my son] does makes me so happy.
The Bolshevik leaders perched atop the Mausoleum were no easier to tell apart than chess pawns. But Florence too was certain that she could recognise the twinkling eyes of Joseph Stalin, which looked down at her each workday from the oil painting above Timofeyev’s desk
G. K. Chesterton
Babies need not to be taught a trade, but to be introduced to a world. To put the matter shortly, woman is generally shut up in a house with a human being at the time when he asks all the questions that there are, and some that there aren't. It would be odd if she retained any of the narrowness of a specialist. Now if anyone says that this duty of general enlightenment (even when freed from modern rules and hours, and exercised more spontaneously by a more protected person) is in itself too exacting and oppressive, I can understand the view. I can only answer that our race has thought it worth while to cast this burden on women in order to keep common-sense in the world. But when people begin to talk about this domestic duty as not merely difficult but trivial and dreary, I simply give up the question. For I cannot with the utmost energy of imagination conceive what they mean. When domesticity, for instance, is called drudgery, all the difficulty arises from a double meaning in the word. If drudgery only means dreadfully hard work, I admit the woman drudges in the home, as a man might drudge at the Cathedral of Amiens or drudge behind a gun at Trafalgar. But if it means that the hard work is more heavy because it is trifling, colorless and of small import to the soul, then as I say, I give it up; I do not know what the words mean. To be Queen Elizabeth within a definite area, deciding sales, banquets, labors and holidays; to be Whiteley within a certain area, providing toys, boots, sheets, cakes. and books, to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene; I can understand how this might exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it. How can it be a large career to tell other people's children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone? No; a woman's function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute. I will pity Mrs. Jones for the hugeness of her task; I will never pity her for its smallness.
Just think: people decided one day that a day should be set aside for motherhood and fatherhood. What a great concept that is.
Jasleen Kaur Gumber
I have started looking into the mirror more often. I have pigmentation, a few blemishes. My body never looked like this, never felt like this- heavy, tired, exhausted, swollen, achy, weak. There are a million reasons to not like myself right now. But one reason that outgrows all these emotions- I am the first home to my baby. A woman can dislike her body, can she really dislike her baby’s abode? Therefore, I love the way it’s swelling- it gives my baby’s tiny arms and legs more space. I love the way it’s pigmenting, it gives my baby better protection from the sun. I love the way it’s exhausted, it prioritises baby’s nutritional requirements over mine. And I would love all the stretch marks in the end too. That’s my baby’s name plate at his first home.
The daughter can become the mother's opportunity either to make up for the past and right wrongs or to exact retribution for her losses. The mother's own experience of the long-ago family serves as an overlay to her mothering: Past and present are inextricably intertwined.
Florence, listen to me carefully. He squeezed her hand. Take whatever that agent offers you. Give him what he wants, and don’t ask too many questions. Get yourself an exit visa as soon as you can. Then leave! Disappear. Forget this wretched place
Motherhood has a very humanizing effect. Everything gets reduced to essentials.
Motherhood has brought me many joys and insights, but the new perspective it granted me on the role I had inadvertently played in young women's lives for the 2 decades I spent in the modeling industry was downright sobering.
Papi, I don't know what to do anymore." Lourdes begins to cry. "No matter what I do, Pilar hates me." "Pilar doesn't hate you, hija. She just hasn't learned to love you yet.