Baby Quotes - Page 52

No one wants to hear about the labor pains, they just want to see the baby.

If I had lady-spider legs, I would weave a sky where the stars lined up. Matresses would be tied down tight to their trucks, bodies would never crash through windshields. The moon would rise above the wine-dark sea and give babies only to maidens and musicians who had prayed long and hard. Lost girls wouldn't need compasses or maps. They would find gingerbread paths to lead them out of the forest and home again. They would never sleep in silver boxes with white velvet sheets, not until they were wrinkled-paper grandmas and ready for the trip.

Maintain silence in the presence of birth to save both the sanity of the mother and the child and safeguard the home to which they will go.

Let the child see Mama and Daddy both at least once a day. Never quarrel or argue in front of a baby or a child-it destroys security.

I own a '66 Jaguar. That's the guitar I polish, and baby - I refuse to let anyone touch it when I jump into the crowd.

I've always said even the most hardened pro-choice people would be just devastated to watch an actual birth and then watch a baby be killed before their eyes.

Sometimes, Manny is taking a nap, and you woke up the baby. There's not a better retaliation, something like that. Manny's one of the best at that.

I feel very lucky. I have a husband and baby that I adore. I have a career I really love. When I sit back and reflect, it's, like, wow! I am very grateful.

Baby Girl," I say. "I need you remember everything I told you. Do you remember what I told you?" She still crying steady, but the hiccups are gone. "To wipe my bottom good when I'm done?" "No, baby, the other one. About who you are.

Well...like, when you're born, you're a little baby, you're wrinkly and stuff, when you get older you sort of morph into a baby again.

Senorita was fun to sing, but I don't really have a favorite. When you write a bunch of songs, they're like your babies. You don't pick favorites.

Here she was, a women who could bolt-load a crossbow in under a second, put half a dozen long arrows in the air in fewer than five, blade a target dead through the sweet spot at six meters, on the run, on an off day; and yet knitting a pair of baby booties seemed completely beyond her power.

I remember when my mother pointed to a stone, and she said this was the kind of stone people used to place on the feet of the baby girls to stop them trying to climb away and unbind their feet.

They are taking steps, but they are baby steps.

I never thought about writing. I was married young, I was still in college, as we did then, and I had two babies before I was 25, and I loved them, and I loved taking care of them, but I was a little bit cuckoo, staying at home and not having a creative outlet.

I was just watching baby videos of me and I was obviously an exhibitionist.

Do you want - do you want - do you want to dance with me baby?

When I was a child and I was upset about something, my mother was not capable of containing that emotion, of letting me be upset but reassuring me, of just being with me in a calming way. She always got in a flap, so I not only had my own baby panics, fears and terrors to deal with, but I had to cope with hers, too. Eventually I taught myself to remain calm when I was panicked, in order not to upset her. In a way, she had managed to put me in charge of her. At 18 months old, I was doing the parenting.

Ladies of the choir, I want you to sound like twenty-two women having babies without chloroform.

You can't win. Either you have the baby and wear your pain on the outside, or you don't have the baby, and you keep that ache in you forever

Do you wanna be a poet and write? Do you wanna be an actor up in lights? Do you wanna be soldier, and fight for love? Do you wanna travel the world? Do you wanna be a diver for pearls? Or climb the mountain, and touch the clouds above? Be anyone you want to be. Bring to life your fantasies. But I want something in return, I want you to burn, burn for me, baby. Like a candle in the night. Oh burn, burn for me, burn for me.

I'm probably going to deliver my baby in these [4-inch YSL heels] ... I went to the doctor yesterday and he said, 'You're gonna need to get out of those heels!'

She was the murderous mother who cut us to the bone but left us alive, left us naked and bewildered as wrinkled newborn babies, as blind puppies, as sun-starved newly hatched baby snakes. She left us a dark Gulf and salt-burned land. She left us to learn to crawl. She left us to salvage. Katrina is the mother we will remember until the next mother with large, merciless hands, committed to blood, comes.

The baby is a different person

Did you know babies are nauseated by the smell of a clean shirt?