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Quote by Megan Jacobson

“Because you don't get to choose your parents, , and at some point you realise that maybe your parents just aren't able to parent very well, but we exist, and the only choice we've got in the whole situation is whether we're gonna love them anyway. It's as simple and messy and complicated as that”

Quote by Megan Jacobson

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Yellow

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Megan Jacobson

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“It is not difficult for an unwise mother quite unintentionally to centre the heterosexual feelings of a young son upon herself, and it is true that, if this is done, the evil consequences pointed out by Freud will probably ensue. This is, however, much less likely to occur if the mother's sexual life is satisfying to her, for in that case she will not look to her child for a type of emotional satisfaction which ought to be sought only from adults. The parental impulse in its purity is an impulse to care for the young, not to demand affection from them, and if a woman is happy in her sexual life she will abstain spontaneously from all improper demands for emotional response from her child.”

ChildrenFamilyParentsEmotional IntelligenceParents And ChildrenEmotional HealthEmotional Satisfaction
Book:Marriage and Morals
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“I’ve written more about my parents than any writer in the history of the world, and I still return to their mysterious effigies as I try to figure out what it all means—some kind of annunciation or maybe even a summing-up They still exert immense control over me even though they’ve been dead for so long. But I can conjure up their images without exerting a thimbleful of effort.”

WritingParentsDysfunctional FamiliesPat Conroy
Book:A Lowcountry Heart: Reflections on a Writing Life
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“Jean Louise ayakta tek başına durmuyordu, onu arkadan destekleyen bir şey vardı: Hayatındaki en etkin, en güçlü manevi destek; babasının sevgisi. Bunu hiç sorgulamadı, üzerine hiç kafa yormadı, önemli bir karar almadan önce, bilinçaltından gayri ihtiyari 'Atticus olsa ne yapardı?' sorusunun geçtiğini bile fark etmedi; ayakları yere sağlam basmasını, dimdik durmasını her seferinde sağlayanın babası olduğunu, kişiliğinde düzgün ve yüksek not almaya değer ne varsa, oraya babası tarafından konulduğunu hiç ayrımsamadı; babasına taptığını hiç bilmedi. Tek bildiği, onlara şunu bunu vermedikleri, onları şu şu konuda kandırdıkları için ebeveynlerine sövüp sayan yaşıtlarına acıdığıydı. Bir sürü ruhsal çözümlemenin ardından korkularının, kaygılarının nedeninin sahip oldukları şeyler olduğunu keşfeden orta yaşlı ev kadınlarına acıyordu; babalarından Bizim İhtiyar diye bahseden, onların çapsız, büyük olasılıkla içkici, çocuklarını bir noktada fena halde ve bağışlanamaz biçimde hüsrana uğratan, yetersiz yaratıklar olduğunu ima eden kişilere üzülüyordu. Acımak konusunda savurgan, o rahat, sıcacık dünyasında kendinden memnundu.”

Parents
Book:Go Set a Watchman
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“If you have no arms To hold your crying child but your own arms And no legs but your own to run the stairs one more time To fetch what was forgotten I bow to you If you have no vehicle To tote your wee one but the wheels that you drive And no one else to worry, “Is my baby okay?” When you have to say goodbye on the doorsteps of daycare or on that cursed first day of school I bow to you If you have no skill but your own skill To replenish an ever-emptying bank account And no answers but your own to Satisfy the endless whys, hows, and whens your child asks and asks again I bow to you If you have no tongue to tell the truth To keep your beloved on the path without a precipice And no wisdom to impart Except the wisdom that you’ve acquired I bow to you If the second chair is empty Across the desk from a scornful, judging authority waiting For your child’s father to appear And you straighten your spine where you sit And manage to smile and say, “No one else is coming—I’m it.” Oh, I bow to you If your head aches when the spotlight finally shines on your child because your hands are the only hands there to applaud I bow to you If your heart aches because you’ve given until everything in you is gone And your kid declares, “It’s not enough.” And you feel the crack of your own soul as you whisper, “I know, baby. But it’s all mama’s got.” Oh, how I bow to you If they are your life while you are their nurse, tutor, maid Bread winner and bread baker, Coach, cheerleader and teammate… If you bleed when your child falls down I bow, I bow, I bow If you’re both punisher and hugger And your own tears are drowned out by the running of the bathroom faucet because children can’t know that mamas hurt too Oh, mother of mothers, I bow to you. —Toni Sorenson”

LifeCourageHonorMotherhoodParentsParenthoodMothersFathersSingle MothersSingle Fathers
Author:Toni Sorenson
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