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Motherhood Quotes

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Motherhood Quotes

“Not to mention, assuming an owner of a business is a guy is just not my mom’s MO. Long before she dreamed up the idea for Big League Burger and helped build it up to the veritable empire it is today, she was almost too progressive a feminist for a place like Nashville, where she jokingly but not-quite-jokingly would clamp her hands over our ears anytime a line in a country song said something about girls with painted-on jeans or sitting on tailgates, saying it would make us 'the complicit kind of cowgirl.”

“Institutionalized motherhood demands of women maternal 'instinct' rather than intelligence, selflessness rather than self-realization, relation to others rather than the creation of self. Motherhood is 'sacred' so long as its offspring are 'legitimate' -- that is, as long as the child bears the name of a father who legally controls the mothe.r”

“If he is to know 'his' children, he must have control over their reproduction, which means he musut possess their mother exclusively...it cuts back to the male need to say: 'I, too, have the power of procreation--these are my seed, my own begotten children, my proof of elemental power.' In addition, of course, the children are the future receivers of the patrimony.”

“Women Ain't Hood Ornament (The Sonnet) Why should women have to give up, Their name when they get married, As if they are not real people, But hood ornament to their husband! Why should a child be identified only, By their father's name, not mother's, Who by the way is the root of creation, Who is the actual almighty creator! It is a sad state of affairs when, Morons peddle moronity as tradition. Shame on us for sustaining such savagery, As we do not put our backbone to action! Each couple must determine the parameters of their relationship, not some ragged tradition. Only norm that matters is love, for in love lies emancipation.”

“I looked into their new mom gift baskets. The basket included... a scarf. A fucking scarf. My first thought was that this company bulk ordered them for something else, and couldn't get rid of them, so they pivoted and tried to make it a "mommy scarf;" selling you on the idea that there are scarves specifically for women who have children. Which are very different, from normal scarves, for childless women. "Great for dressing up a look or just keeping mama warm while she's out conquering the world." The fact that they wrote a blurb about why a human would need a scarf at all, to me, further proves how dumb we think women are. As if there's some tired mom out there, typing into Google "what is scarf and how?" "neck cold. how do i hot it?”

“The mythicised inhumanity of this attack remains unforgettable not only because it was performed by one mother on another mother – one dark and distorted, the other fair and privileged – but because it encoded the relationship between patriarchal masculinity, drugs, and the resulting – and accelerating – cultural denigration of the feminine and maternal.”

“Why should women have to give up their name upon marriage, as if they are nothing but hood ornaments to their husbands! And why should a child be identified only by their father’s name and not the mother’s, who by the way, is the root of all creation - who is creation! We are never going to have a civilized society with equity as foundation, unless we acknowledge and abolish such filthy habits that we’ve been practicing as tradition. Showing off our skin-deep support for equality few days a year doesn’t eliminate all the discriminations from the world, we have to live each day as the walking proof of equality, ascension and assimilation.”

“I resent having to refer to my career as my baby in order to explain myself to parents. It suggests that as long as a woman has something she feels maternal toward, then she passes as a regular human being. "She want to swaddle her career! So we'll make an exception and give her a pass." Women don't have to have maternal urges to be women. My career is not my surrogate baby, just like my car is not my surrogate sex slave just because I turn it on and ride it. Men don't call their careers their sons or daughters. A fireman without kids doesn't have to pretend his job is his baby replacement. "Oh yeah, when I walk up those forty flights of stairs fighting back the burning and falling asbestos, I just cradle the hose in my arms and think, 'this is my baby'.”

“Certaines femmes ne savent pas vraiment pourquoi elles ont des enfants, elles suivent la norme ; d'autres les désirent impétueusement, et si le moindre obstacle se présente, elles font appel à toutes les possibilités médicales pour pallier à leur infécondité. D'autres encore, sans problèmes de fertilité, revendiquent de ne pas enfanter. Et alors ? Nous ne sommes pas un troupeau de femelles animales programmées pour procréer sans réfléchir, chacune d'entre nous est libre de choisir de vivre selon sa trajectoire personnelle, ses désirs, ses gènes, son inconscient. Ce qui était impossible hier est devenu une réalité.”

“For months, I vacillated between life and death. In front of me—I, who had returned from the threshold of death—were three figures: of my husband, whom I had served with my thoughts, words and deeds, and my wifehood; of my son, whom I had carried for ten months, given birth to and raised, and my motherhood; and of this pot, the result of my focus and my art. All three are the same. They are shattered by the slightest cause and life hangs on a sword’s edge.”

“How naive Lore had been, despite being the daughter of a father no one spoke of, despite the strange, incomplete conversations at her mother’s deathbed; how again and again she was caught up short by the discovery that other people had stories they didn’t tell, or told stories that weren’t entirely true. How mostly you got odd chunks torn from the whole, impossible truly to understand in their damaged form.”

“Anne went up the narrow stairs and into that little east room with a full heart. It was as a shrine to her. Here her mother had dreamed the exquisite, happy dreams of anticipated motherhood; here that red sunrise light had fallen over both of them in the sacred hour of birth; here her mother had died. Anne looked about her reverently, her eyes dim with tears. It was for her one of the jewelled hours of life that gleam out radiantly forever in memory.”

“All this was in contrast to the idea that a newborn, on the basis of cortical immaturity, is a being who remembers and understands nothing: a person only within the context of the mother’s acknowledgment, blank, a species of human cabbage.”

“Our Vietnamese a time capsule, a mark of where your education ended. Ma, to speak in our mother tongue is to speak only partially in Vietnamese, but entirely in war. That night I promise myself I'd never be wordless when you needed me to speak for you. So I began my career as our family's official interpreter. From then on, I would fill in our blanks, our silences, our stutters, whenever I could. I code switched. I took off our language and wore my English, like a mask, so that others would see my face, and therefore yours. It's true that, in Vietnamese, we rarely say I love you, and when we do, it is almost always in English. Care and love, for us, are pronounced clearly through service...”