I was suppose to write a book about being a mom, to organize my thoughts into chapters and figure out a structure to hang them on, to make a lasting point, but somehow I decided to go ahead and become a mother instead.
My mom was dying for me to write a book, she was my biggest advocate
My mom lived by herself with two kids. Sacrifice was the name of the game at our house.
Before you're a mom you don't know what gear is going to be relevant.
But I can see. I can see everything. I can see things that Mom and Dad can’t. Or won’t.
I had always loved to write and my mom was my editor for my school papers.
I was a single mom with two kids. What else was I going to do? It was either be in a band or be a waitress.
I was stuck in traffic one day and just kinda thought it would be funny to masturbate. It was sunny and clear out, so I was worried one of the other drivers would see me, but my jeep is pretty high off the ground, so I think no one noticed. I busted a nut and aimed it down, ruining my tweety bird floor mat. I felt kinda stupid after and my mom kept silent the rest of the drive home. It was awkward and I regret it.
That's the real excellent scary part, that feeling, and that feeling won't come if the lady from next door is there and your mom won't ride the ride, because what brings on that feeling most is when your mom rides wedged in tight with you and your brother on nights like this, when your mom will scream the excellent scream, the scream that people you see in snatches on the boardwalk stop and stare for, the scream that stops the ride next door, the scream that tells us to our hearts the bolts have finally broken.
Be yourself! Love your mom, but if she's trying to get you to be someone you're not, she's in the wrong
I don't think I would have been able to stick with it and been proud of who I am and be feminine out on the court. I think I would have folded to the peer pressure if I didn't have my mom to encourage me to be me and be proud of how tall I am.
I gave up meat when I was twelve. & One day I was cutting up a chicken for my mom, and I hit a tumor with the knife. There was pus and blood all over the place. That was enough for me.
So I asked him to play "Trav'lin' All Alone." That came closer than anything to the way I felt. And some part of it must have come across. The whole joint quieted down. If someone had dropped a pin, it would have sounded like a bomb. When I finished, everybody in the joint was crying in their beer, and I picked thirty-eight bucks up off the floor. . . . When I showed Mom the money for the rent and told her I had a regular job singing for eighteen dollars a week, she could hardly believe it.
My mom had always wanted me to better myself. I wanted to better myself because of her. Now when the strikes started, I told her I was going to join the union and the whole movement. I told her I was going to work without pay. She said she was proud of me. (His eyes glisten. A long, long pause.) See, I told her I wanted to be with my people. If I were a company man, nobody would like me anymore. I had to belong to somebody and this was it right here.
I was a hyper kid in school and the teacher suggested to my mom she needed to do something with me.
In her whole life Mom never earned more than five or six dollars a week. Being without a husband, it was hard for her to find any place at all for us to live.
Ledisi means to come here, to bring forth. It’s a Nigerian word and it’s from the Yorubu culture, I believe, and my parents named me, my dad and my mom, and really my dad, and I had no choice in that. That’s my real name and that’s what it means.
One of my most sentimental items is my grandmother's engagement ring that my mom gave me a few years ago. It's a Victorian-style setting that's closed in the back, so it doesn't sparkle the way diamonds do now. I wear it as a pendant.
Though my mom had too many of her own dreams denied, deferred and destroyed, she instilled in me that I could have dreams. And not just have dreams but had a responsibility to make them reality. My mom taught me from a very early age that I could do anything I wanted to do.
I could never have pictured myself writing a book when I was 25 years old. My mom was an English teacher but I wasn't that way growing up.
I want to take time to understand life. I want to travel. I want to be a better person, a better Mom. I want to do something good with my life.
Never eat at a place called 'Moms', but if the only other place in town has a sign that says 'Eats', go back to Moms.
The day I saw my mom eating the Santa cookies on the plate was one of the most horrific days of my life.
We heard recently the touching story of a young flier who was killed in action. Before he died, he had time to scrawl only a few words as a brief final message to his parents back home. The note read: "Dear Mom and Pop; I had time to say my prayers. Jack."
I think actions speak louder than words is one thing I think I always took from my mom. And to this day, I think about that in everything I do.
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