Best 779 quotes in «motherhood quotes» category

You have to put your own oxygen mask before you put on others... It's a good metaphor for parenting

...you have to understand that motherhood has to be your priority. It's important work.

You know, motherhood is my favourite topic in my personal life and I won't shut up about it, but it's not something I want to discuss publicly just because of the amount of attention it draws to a small person who didn't choose to be exposed.

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.

Young women you will be the ones who will provide the example of virtuous womanhood and motherhood. You will continue to be virtuous lovely praiseworthy and of good report. You will also be the ones to provide an example of family life in a time when families are under attack, being redefined and disintegrating. You will understand your roles and your responsibilities and thus will see no need to lobby for rights.

You watched and you saw what happened and in the accumulation of episodes you saw the pattern: Daddy ruled the roost, called the shots, made the money, made the decisions, so you signed up on his side, and fifteen years later when the women's movement came along with its incendiary manifestos telling you to avoid marriage and motherhood, it was as if somebody put a match to a pile of dry kindling.

Your proudest moment is to watch your egg not just function, but to achieve on her own.

Accomplish one small thing a day. Maybe it’s cleaning that counter, maybe it’s writing one thank-you note. Don’t make the task too difficult. For the rest, you’re healing a uterus; adding millions of cells to your baby’s brain (though it might sometimes feel as if they are being siphoned off from your own); developing his liver, heart, and lungs; boosting his immune system; and maintaining the integrity of his intestines … you’re a busy lady! All while sprawled comfortably on the couch. Multi-tasking raised to an art form!

...above all, let your focus be on remaining a full person. Take time for yourself. Nurture your own needs. Please do not think of it as 'doing it all'. Our culture celebrates the idea of women who are able to 'do it all' but does not question the premise of that praise. I have no interest in the debate about women doing it all because it is a debate that assumes that caregiving and domestic work are singularly female domains, and idea that I strongly reject. Domestic work and caregiving should be gender-neutral, and we should be asking not whether a woman can 'do it all' but how best to support parents in their dual duties at work and at home.

According to most studies on the subject, boys who grow up without fathers grow up at a disadvantage.

A challenging career suddenly seemed more productive to me because I could measure the results of my work. These precious little ones had endless needs. They were busy little sinful creatures who demanded all of my body, time, life, emotions, and attention! As much as I loved my children, I often felt like a failure. Surely someone else could do a better job with these precious ones than I. And what exactly was I supposed to be accomplishing anyway? Was I wasting my time? What had this husband, who professed to love me, done to me?

A boy who could make his mother feel special inspite of his own ordeals is the boon from God in lieu of some good deed.

A child is reliving millions of years of Evolution from a single cell to a XXI Century Human. This is the most amazing miracle I've ever encountered, and I am truly grateful to the Nature for letting me perform it - for letting me create a new life called Emily.

A father is as much a verb as a mother.

A father cannot even come close to playing the role that a mother plays in a child’s life.

A few days after we came home from the hospital, I sent a letter to a friend, including a photo of my son and some first impressions of fatherhood. He responded, simply, 'Everything is possible again.' It was the perfect thing to write because that was exactly how it felt.

A Godly mother`s seed of faith yields a bounty of faithfulness.

Ain’t nothing worse to a mama than losing her baby—

A good mother does not live only for her children. She always has some bond with other mothers, no matter what class, nationality or race they may be. All mothers have the same joys, the same sorrows, the same anxieties. All mothers think first of their child and of children.

Alcohol was like a fun cousin I visited every once in a while but never planned a trip around.

A life of work should not deprive women of the joy of motherhood, nor should motherhood deprive the world of her work.

Algunas veces, ser buena madre está reñido con ser buena persona.

A loving mother listens to her children with empathy. She accepts the negative and helps her child not feel overwhelmed by what is going on around them. She is comfortable with her child’s imperfections, and when she shows them this, her child will take her comfort into their personality. As a result, they will become comfortable with their own imperfections, too.

All these things we do bespeak a terrible anxiety: that our children simply will not be able to make it through life if we do not perform totemic acts to keep them on the path toward self-perfection and keep their lives pure and unfettered by distracting emotion, personality foibles, or less-than-ideal experiences.

A loving mother makes sacrifices for peace and laughter to reign in her home and family.

Always, always, always love your mother. No one else will ever love you like she does.

Although I wasn't there to bear witness, I imagine Lot's wife scanned the masses for her children. Perhaps she sought out the curves of their mouths and the shapes of their faces, trying to memorize her children, grown now. She looked back as I and any strong, loving mother would have done.

A mother who would stop at nothing for her child is dangerous woman when crossed.

...always- the sharp, plaintive edge on the rim of the spoon of my giving. (lines 8-13 of the poem 'Confessions')

America- often called the land of milk and honey- tends to be sweeter, more generous to those who don't rock the boat. Sarah Mullen

A moment when the worst had already happened, so there was nothing left to worry about. I wanted to stop forever in that pause between cause and effect. A place where I didn’t have to be responsible for everybody all of the time.

A Mother Has the Best of all Smiles; She is a Wonderful Friend, Lover & Adviser.

A mother has the best of all smiles; she is a wonderful friend, lover and adviser.

A mother is like nature, she appreciates her child’s every mood.

A mother isn’t the person who births you; it’s the person who rears you and shows you love.

A mother is the most important blessing of your life.

A mother’s eyes are like God; impossible to get away from, they see everything.

A mother's heart has the gift of foresight.

A mother`s job is not complete till she has taught and imbibed God`s Words, and principles into her kids.

And now the bad Mommy was here – outside his window. With a little whimper, he ran back to the bed, jumped in, and pulled the covers over his head. Good Mommy was gone now…and bad Mommy had come to eat him up.

And the question is always "When are you going to have kids?" Rather than "Do you want to have kids?

And there I lie in these damned bandages for a week. And there he lies, swathed up too, like a little mummy. And never crying. But now I like raking him in my arms and looking at him. A lovely forehead, incredibly white, the eyebrows drawn very faintly in gold dust... Well, this was a funny time. (The big bowl of coffee in the morning with a pattern of red and blue flowers. I was always so thirsty.) But uneasy, uneasy... Ought a baby to be as pretty as this, as pale as this, as silent as this? The other babies yell from morning to night. Uneasy... When I complain about the bandages she says: 'I promise you that when you take them off you'll be just as you were before.' And it is true. When she takes them off there is not one line, not one wrinkle, not one crease. And five weeks afterwards there I am, with not one line, not one wrinkle, not one crease. And there he is, lying with a ticket tied around his wrist because he died in a hospital. And there I am looking down at him, without one line, without one wrinkle, without one crease...

And the truth is, the ten or twenty minutes I was somebody's mother were black magic. There is nothing I would trade them for. There is no place I would rather have seen.

And, they tell us, we at home Live free from danger, they go out to battle: fools! I’d rather stand three times in the front line than bear One child.

Anything of worth is costly: devotion to Christ, a strong marriage, financial responsibility, a life of integrity, and of course, fearlessly feminine mothering.

An excellent mother knows she has the beautiful life, and she is a big time programmer.

An industrious mother is an initiator of a good course; always charting new course for her loved ones.

Anything seemed possible if you had ingenuity, money, and tenacity. But the body doesn't play by those rules.

A pair of young mothers now became the centre of interest. They had risen from their lying-in much sooner than the doctors would otherwise have allowed. (French doctors are always very good about recognizing the importance of social events, and certainly in this case had the patients been forbidden the ball the might easily have fretted themselves to death.) One came as the Duchesse de Berri with l’Enfant du Miracle, and the other as Madame de Montespan and the Duc du Maine. The two husbands, the ghost of the Duc de Berri, a dagger sticking out of his evening dress, and Louis XIV, were rather embarrassed really by the horrible screams of their so very young heirs, and hurried to the bar together. The noise was indeed terrific, and Albertine said crossly that had she been consulted she would, in this case, have permitted and even encouraged the substitution of dolls. The infants were then dumped down to cry themselves to sleep among the coats on her bed, whence they were presently collected by their mothers’ monthly nannies. Nobody thereafter could feel quite sure that the noble families of Bregendir and Belestat were not hopelessly and for ever interchanged. As their initials and coronets were, unfortunately, the same, and their baby linen came from the same shop, it was impossible to identify the children for certain. The mothers were sent for, but the pleasures of society rediscovered having greatly befogged their maternal instincts, they were obliged to admit they had no idea which was which. With a tremendous amount of guilty giggling they spun a coin for the prettier of the two babies and left it at that.

A photograph of a disposable diaper floating in the arctic miles away from human habitat fueled my daily determination to save at least one disposable diaper from being used and created. One cloth diaper after another, days accumulated into years and now our next child is using the cloth diapers we bought for our firstborn.