motherhood [Theme] Page 2

So recently she was all alone, she suffered so much from loneliness, and now he is there, he already lives separately from her, he will suffer separately, rejoice, get sick, but now there are two of them, he will always be there ... Even if the whole world turns away from her, he will still be there, and no one will cancel this ...

In the arms of the mother, the child feels that everything is as it should be. He knows nothing about himself, except for the feeling of his correctness, attractiveness and desirability. Without this belief, a person of any age is flawed: he does not believe in himself, he feels deprived, he lacks spontaneity and grace. All children are correct, but they themselves can only know this through reflection, through the way they are treated. A sense of self-correctness is the only feeling of a person in relation to himself, on the basis of which an individual can build his prosperous existence.

Carrying a child, raising a child means not living a single day in vain.

Children save a lot from hell: both by themselves and because you have no time for despondency.

The strength of the heart grows in multiples of the number of children.

Haven't you realized that we love you? You think we don't understand. You're right. We do not understand. But I love you. I love you! And this cannot be taken away from me.

The most desperate, the most wrong spectacle in the world: motherhood, doomed to defeat.

The conditions in which I grew up and was brought up instilled in me the consciousness that in a person, as in an animal, only that which develops his spiritual and physical prowess is valuable. And I just as willingly acknowledge Kala as my mother, as I do the poor, unhappy little Englishwoman who died a year after she gave birth to me. Cala, wild and cruel, was always kind to me in her own way. I must have been feeding on her hairy chest since the day my mother died. She fought for me with the wild inhabitants of the forest and with members of her own tribe with all the fury of genuine motherly love. And I, for my part, I loved her too, Paul. And he himself did not understand how much he loved until the merciless spear and poisoned arrows of the black Kulonga took her away from me. I was still a child then, and I threw myself on a lifeless corpse and sobbed in despair, as a child sobs over its own mother. To you, my friend, she would seem a disgusting, ugly creature, but I found her beautiful - this is how love transforms what you love.

dumb! Well, we just call names! Such a family tradition. Really, we got it, especially about the children. And I decided to close this issue. The fact is that I was examined and it turned out that I could not give birth myself. But everything is fine, now is the XXI century, there is IVF, surrogacy, you just can come to the kindergarten early.

Looking at Lila, I knew what kind of mother she would become. What now seems unbearable to her will become a source of joy for her. Perhaps I should tell her that there is nothing in the world better than simple things.

Children always understand when their mother is going crazy, they just don't talk about it out loud.

It's always like this with moms: we assume the worst, even if the risk is less than half a percent.

Motherhood is a wonderful feeling, full of countless sorrows, pain, tremendous work, but at the same time full of joy, pride and a sense of happiness. This feeling of weightlessness and irreplaceability

For a mother, her child remains a child always - at five years old, and at twenty-five, and at forty-five. Banality, of course, but because of that it never ceases to be true. And it does not matter at all whether the child is native or adopted. Motherhood is, of course, a burden and a cross, but a light burden (its own burden does not carry), a cross that one wants to carry almost skipping. Even when, frankly speaking, it is not easy ...