Baby While Mucking Quotes

Chip had been in there for a few very long hours. I had all kinds of awful thoughts about what might have happened to him in there. What if he'd been roughed up? Strip-searched? Who knows what awful things could have happened in a place like that? I saw scary-looking characters come and go as I sat in that cold, concrete lobby, trying to make myself invisible.
Finally, out came Chip.
"Hi, baby. Thanks for bailing me out," he said.
He sounded almost chipper.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah! You'll never guess who I saw in there. Alfonzo! Remember the lawn guy who used to work for me? We had a good time catching up."
Only Chip could go to prison and come out talking about all the friends he'd run into there.

I came out and I was like, "Whoa! That was awesome. Jo, I met this guy. He did this thing. You know this old guy that I used to tell you about--he and I used to work together? He's doing great. Well, he's in jail, but things are really good otherwise."
Two of the policemen were also buddies of mine. These guys were literally standing on the other side of these bars going, "Why are you here? What's the deal?" We had this endearing conversation right there, while I was in a jail cell.
I used to live out in the boonies when I was in college, and I had mowed this one guy's grass. So I told him what I was in for. "Long story short, I got these dogs running around." And he was like, "Oh, dude, you'll be fine. I'm sure they'll get you ~ Joanna Gaines

At home in Nigeria, all a mother had to do for a baby was wash and feed him and, if he was fidgety, strap him onto her back and carry on with her work while that baby slept. But in England she had to wash piles and piles of nappies, wheel the child round for sunshine during the day, attend to his feeds as regularly as if one were serving a master, talk to the child, even if he was only a day old! Oh, yes, in England, looking after babies was in itself a full-time job. ~ Buchi Emecheta

I played a few rough versions of songs while Chad sat by, looking lost. Mia came in wearing black leather pants and a tight sweater. As I strummed the Gibson, she made her way over to the piano. She smiled and threw her hand up, waving to Chad. He smiled back and then I watched him study her as she passed. Then his dipshit, googly eyes dropped to her ass while she moved the piano bench out.

When he looked back at me, I glared at him and began strumming a dreary and much louder tune. His body sank into his chair and he dropped his head down to stare at his fidgeting hands. Mia began playing a sullen little melody in an attempt to accompany the monotonous song I was forming, and then she stopped abruptly and turned toward me.

I continued playing.

"Is this going to be a ballad?" she asked.

Without taking my eyes off of dipshit, I said, "No, baby, this is what's called a funeral march."

Chad threw his arms up and said, "I get it. I get it. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Mia asked.

"Nothing!" Chad and I both shouted.

"Let's move on," I said, arching one eyebrow at him.

Chad kept his eyes trained on either the ground or me through the rest of the session ~ Renee Carlino

While she eventually adjusts to the faded motivational posters featuring long-dead baby animals and the fifties-era reading books whose soporific effects have intensified with each decade of use she can't get it out of of her head that while she is speeding around in circles waiting to be told when to stop other kids are flying to the moon. ~ Myla Goldberg

When warm weather came, Baby Suggs, holy, followed by every black man, woman, and child who could make it through, took her great heart to the Clearing--a wide-open place cut deep in the woods nobody knew for what at the end of the path known only to deer and whoever cleared the land in the first place. In the heat of every Saturday afternoon, she sat in the clearing while the people waited among the trees.

After situating herself on a huge flat-sided rock, Baby Suggs bowed her head and prayed silently. The company watched her from the trees. They knew she was ready when she put her stick down. Then she shouted, 'Let the children come!' and they ran from the trees toward her.

Let your mothers hear you laugh,' she told them, and the woods rang. The adults looked on and could not help smiling.

Then 'Let the grown men come,' she shouted. They stepped out one by one from among the ringing trees.

Let your wives and your children see you dance,' she told them, and groundlife shuddered under their feet.

Finally she called the women to her. 'Cry,' she told them. 'For the living and the dead. Just cry.' And without covering their eyes the women let loose.

It started that way: laughing children, dancing men, crying women and then it got mixed up. Women stopped crying and danced; men sat down and cried; children danced, women laughed, children cried until, exhausted and riven, all and each lay about the Clearing damp and ~ Toni Morrison

Well Abby, it's not as simple as that. I hate to see you sad sweetheart, but it's not that bad of a deal just having mommy is it? Are you not happy with me?" I hoped that this would throw her off her the questioning for a little while.
It's not that I never thought about dating, actually I take that back, it's exactly that and I didn't know how to get my mindset any differently.
Abby looked at me, her baby blues delving deep into my soul "But, you deserve to be happy, too." she whispered. ~ K. Pinson

Dude. Whoa."
I looked up to find Miles staring at me openmouthed in astonishment. Around him was a crowd of Vanaheim warriors. A few shifted and murmured uneasily.
The dark-haired girl in the bikini top moved forward. "They're . . . dead." A tear traced down her cheek.
It occurred to me then that while she, Miles, and the rest of Freya's chosen were technically warriors, they might never have seen an actual battle, let alone been in one.
"Well, yes, they're dead," I said carefully. "But if they'd succeeded in charbroiling and eating me, then I'd be dead. For good."
The girl looked at me blankly.
"Because I'm an einherji."
The girl still looked puzzled.
"If I die outside Valhalla, I stay dead. Unlike the dragons who, being mythical creatures, will vanish into Ginnungagap and eventually be reborn."
The girl's face cleared. "The dragons will be reborn?" She grabbed her friend's hands and started jumping up and down and squealing. "We'll have baby dragons here soon. Soooo cute!" She beamed at me. "Thank you so much for killing them! ~ Rick Riordan

We walked into my mother's house at 10:30 in the morning at the end of February 1992. I had been gone for three weeks. She had been so desperate about us - she, too, looked thin and haggard. She was stunned to see me walk in, filthy and crawling with lice, with a huge crowd of starving people.
We ate and drank clean water; then, before we even washed, I put Marian in a taxi with me and told the driver to go to Nairobi Hospital. We had no money left and I knew Nairobi Hospital was expensive; it was where I had been operated on when the ma'alim broke my skull. But I also knew that there they would help us first and ask to pay later. Saving the baby's life had become the only thing that mattered to me.
At the reception desk I announced, "This baby is going to die," and the nurse's eyes went wide with horror. She took him and put a drip in his arm, and very slowly, this tiny shape seemed to uncrumple slightly. After a little while, his eyes opened.
The nurse said, "The child will live," and told us to deal with the bill at the cash desk. I asked her who her director was, and found him, and told this middle-aged Indian doctor the whole story. I said I couldn't pay the bill. He took it and tore it up. He said it didn't matter. Then he told me how to look after the baby, and where to get rehydration salts, and we took a taxi home.
Ma paid for the taxi and looked at me, her eyes round with respect. "Well done," she said. It was a rare compliment.
In the next ~ Ayaan Hirsi Ali

It does a man good to see his lady being brave while she has their baby ... it inspires him. ~ Ina May Gaskin

The marine underworld stretched below the ship and embodied many secrets. The disappearance of Olga had become one of the mysteries that would remain with Stefania and her family. The disappearance of her baby sister and sudden departure from her home had taught the ten-year-old that life was filled with uncertainties. But she was willing to forget that for a little while.
She jumped down from the barrel and headed toward Liam, Felix, and the other shipmates. They would sing shanties and talk of the constellations, the sea, its creatures, and the legends. It would get her through another night.

La Suerte was the only stability for her passengers with the infinite unknown all around them. The waters of the sea, the world below the surface, and the sky that stretched beyond the horizon was a representation of the limitless possibilites and dangers awaiting those aboard. ~ Tiffany Apan

Forty is a most beautiful age for both men and women. Did you know that in mystic thought forty symbolizes the ascent from one level to a higher one and spiritual awakening? When we mourn we mourn for forty days. When a baby is born it takes
forty days for him to get ready to start life on earth. And when we are in love we need to wait for forty days to be sure of our feelings.
The Flood of Noah lasted forty days, and while the waters destroyed life, they also washed all impurity away and enabled human beings to make a new, fresh start. In Islamic mysticism there are forty degrees between man and God. Likewise, there are four basic stages of consciousness and ten degrees in each, making forty levels in total. Jesus went into the wilderness for forty days and nights. Muhammad was forty years old when he received the call to become a prophet. Buddha meditated under a linden tree for forty days. Not to mention the forty rules of Shams.
You receive a new mission at forty, a new lease on life! You have reached a most auspicious number. Congratulations! And don't worry about getting old. There are no wrinkles or gray hair strong enough to defy the power of forty! ~ Elif Shafak

We know of ESB's potential for mind control largely through the work of Jose Delgado. One signal provoked a cat to lick its fur, then continue compulsively licking the floor and bars of its cage. A signal designed to stimulate a portion of a monkey's thalamus, a major midbrain center for integrating muscle movements, triggered a complex action: The monkey walked to one side of the cage, then the other, then climbed to the rear ceiling, then back down. The animal performed this same activity as many times as it was stimulated with the signal, up to sixty times an hour, but not blindly - the creature still was able to avoid obstacles and threats from the dominant male while carrying out the electrical imperative. Another type of signal has made monkeys turn their heads, or smile, no matter what else they were doing, up to twenty thousand times in two weeks. As Delgado concluded, "The animals looked like electronic toys."

Even instincts and emotions can be changed: In one test a mother giving continuous care to her baby suddenly pushed the infant away whenever the signal was given. Approach-avoidance conditioning can be achieved for any action simply by stimulating the pleasure and pain centers in an animal's or person's limbic system.

Eventual monitoring of evoked potentials from the EEG, combined with radio-frequency and microwave broadcasts designed to produce specific thoughts or moods, such as compliance and complacency, promises a method of mind control that p ~ Robert O. Becker

A woman predisposed to be a mother can learn to love any baby, while a mother not so disposed does not even learn to love her own. ~ Sarah Blaffer Hrdy

Detainees were not allowed to talk to each other, but we enjoyed looking at each other. The punishment for talking was hanging the detainee by the hands with his feet barely touching the ground. I saw an Afghani detainee who passed out a couple of times while hanging from his hands. The medics "fixed" him and hung him back up. Other detainees were luckier: they were hung for a certain time and then released. Most of the detainees tried to talk while they were hanging, which made the guards double their punishment. There was a very old Afghani fellow who reportedly was arrested to turn over his son. The guy was mentally sick; he couldn't stop talking because he didn't know where he was, nor why. I don't think he understood his environment, but the guards kept dutifully hanging him. It was so pitiful. One day one of the guards threw him on his face, and he was crying like a baby. ~ Mohamedou Ould Slahi

Breastfeeding your baby is fleeting, and while it's important to you, so is continuing to provide for your family and having a fulfilling work life. ~ Jessica Shortall

The doctors had hit an artery, which is not standard procedure. They worked quickly to deal with it-to this day I have no idea what actually happened, but whatever they did worked, because our beautiful Angel was born soon after.
Chris was the first person to hold her. They word beaming was invented to describe the proud expression on his face.
I went into the recovery room and slept for a while. When I woke up, Chris was holding Angel. He looked so natural with her-a big six-footer holding a six-pound bundle in the crook of his arm, already bonded to her.
"Do you want to hold her?" he asked.
I was exhausted, and I knew she was safe with him, so I told him no.
He forced himself to smile. He explained later that he thought my response meant I was rejecting the baby-having worked on a ranch, I guess he had seen animals do that, with dire results for their new offspring. But of course I wasn't; they just looked perfect together, and I was barely conscious.
I asked for her a few minutes later, when I felt stronger. He passed her on gently, and I held her for the first time. There is no way really to describe how that feels.
In many ways, the birth was a miracle, not a disaster. Because of Angel's dilemma, her father was able to be there at her birth-something that wouldn't have happened had that ultrasound been routine, since I would have waited another four or five weeks for her. A potential tragedy had been turned into something beautiful. It ~ Taya Kyle

Next to fat babies, midgets are my favorite things to hold. I love them so much, and I want to help them to do adult things like drive cars, Jet-Ski, and lip-synch. I'm in awe of their little limbs, their large craniums, and their medicine-ball asses. I love the little baby steps they take while shifting their weight from side to side, and the fact that when you knock one over accidentally, he flails like a turtle on its back that can't get up right away. ~ Chelsea Handler

While walking back to the highway I stop, choke back a sob, my throat tightens. "I just want to..." Facing the skyline, through all the baby talk, I murmur, "keep the game going." As I stand, frozen in position, an old woman emerges behind a Threepenny Opera poster at a deserted bus stop and she's homeless and begging, hobbling over, her face covered with sores that look like bugs, holding out a shaking red hand. "Oh will you please go away?" I sigh. She tells me to get a haircut. ~ Bret Easton Ellis

The first time I walked into the room and saw Naya asleep on Lucas's chest while he slept, too, his hand over her naked baby butt ... " Sascha sighed, rubbing a fist over her heart. "I don't think I've recovered. ~ Nalini Singh

Jesus, baby." He groaned loudly, shifted. "Been a while?"

Yes. "No. It's just you…you're…"

Brent sat up, putting his face right in front of hers. He bit her bottom lip and tugged. "I'm what?" When she tried to kiss him, he dodged her mouth. "Say it. What am I?"

"Huge," she whispered.

"That's right." His hands slipped up her back and gripped her shoulders. "And you're going to take it. ~ Tessa Bailey

The number of Canadians providing or expecting to provide eldercare in need is already a staggering statistic. Baby boomers are aging and this figure is likely to grow substantially.The Caregiver's Guide for Canadians will provide you with valuable advice to help you provide good eldercare while balancing all the demands on your time. It provides practical, realistic guidance; encouragement and insights to help you care for elders in need. ~ Rick Lauber

Let us imagine, for example, that a mother is still in such a state of consciousness that she has forgotten the rest of the world while discovering her baby; suddenly somebody appears with two clamps and a pair of scissors in order to cut the cord. This distraction is a dangerous interference with the physiological processes. ~ Michel Odent

My brothers' faces haunt me. I hear their children, my nieces and nephews, asking me why I came home without their daddies. I think of their wives, imagine their questions. Our parents, forever seeing the faces of their lost sons when they look at me. They will want answers, demand to know how I survived. And what do I tell them? That I huddled like a baby inside my tent while their killer beckoned me forth for one last stand? ~ Kevin Wallis

They were all there (at the airport) - the deaf ammoomas, the cantankerous, arthritic appoopas, the pining wives, scheming uncles, children with the runs. The fiancées to be reassessed. The teacher's husband still waiting for his Saudi visa. The teacher's husband's sisters waiting for their dowries. The wire-bender's pregnant wife. "Mostly sweeper class," Baby Kochamma said grimly, and looked away while a mother, no wanting to give up her good place near the railing, aimed her distracted baby's penis into an empty bottle while he smiled and waved at the people around him... ~ Arundhati Roy

So they're your favorite lines, then?" I press my lips to her forehead. "My dear baby blue. Both of those quotes are about you." I pause while she looks shocked. "Hey, see I'm a poet too. ~ Karina Halle

My blind adoration of Omi was devoid of any element of conscious criticism, and still less did I have anything like a moral viewpoint where he was concern. Whenever I tried to capture the amorphous mass of my adoration within the confines of analysis, it would already have disappeared. If there be such a thing as love that has neither duration nor progress, this was precisely my emotion. The eyes through which I saw Omi were always those of a 'first glance' or, if I may say so, of the 'primeval glance'. It was purely an unconscious attitude on my part, a ceaselesseffort to protect my fourteen-yesr-old purity from the process of erosion.

Could this have been love? Grant it to be one form of love, for even though at first glance it seemed to retain its pristine form forever, simply repeating that form over and over again, it too had its own unique sort of debasement and decay. And it was a debasement more evil than that of any normal kind of love. Indeed, of all the kinds of decay in this world, decadent purity is the most malignant.

Nevertheless, in my unrequited love for Omi, in this the first love I encountered in life, I seemed like a baby bird keeping its truly innocent animal lusts hidden under its wing. I was being tempted, not by the desire of possession, but simply by unadorned temptation itself.

To say the least, while at school, particularly during a boring class, I could not take my eyes off Omi's profile. What more could I have done ~ Yukio Mishima

Tom, will you let me love you in your restaurant?
i will let you make me a sandwich of your
invention and i will eat it and call
it a carolyn sandwich. then you will kiss my lips
and taste the mayonnaise and
that is how you shall love me in my restaurant.

Tom, will you come up to my empty beige
apartment and help me set up my daybed?
yes, and i will put the screws in loosely so that
when we move on it, later,
it will rock like a cradle and then you will know
you are my baby

Tom, I am sitting on my dirt bike on the deck.
Will you come out from the kitchen
and watch the people with me?
yes, and then we will race to your bedroom.
i will win and we will tangle up
on your comforter while the sweat rains from your
stomachs and foreheads.

Tom, the stars are sitting in tonight like gumball
gems in a little girl's
jewlery box. Later can we walk to the duck pond?
yes, and we can even go the long way past the
jungle gym. i will push you on
the swing, but promise me you'll hold tight. if
you fall i might disappear.

Tom, can we make a baby together? I want to be
a big pregnant woman with a
loved face and give you a squalling red daughter.
no, but i will come inside you and you will be
my daughter

Tom, will you stay the night with me and sleep
so close that we are one person,
no, but i will l ~ Carolyn Creedon

Peridots and periwinkle blue medallions
Gilded galleons spilled across the ocean floor
Treasure somewhere in the sea and he will find where
Never mind the questions there's no answer for
The roll of the harbor wake
The songs that the rigging makes
The taste of the spray he takes
And he learns to give
He aches and he learns to live
He stakes all his silver
On a promise to be free
Mermaids live in colonies
All his sea dreams come to me

City satins left at home I will not need them
I believe him when he tells of loving me
Something truthful in the sea all lies will find you
Leave behind your streets he said and come to me
Come down from the neon lights
Come down from the tourist sights
Run down till the rain delights
You do not hide
Sunlight will renew your pride
Skin white by skin golden
Like a promise to be free
Dolphins playing in the sea
All his sea dreams come to me

Seabird I have seen you fly above the pilings
I am smiling at your circles in the air
I will come and sit by you while he lies sleeping
Fold your fleet wings I have brought some dreams to share
A dream that you love someone
A dream that the wars are done
A dream that you tell no one but the gray sea
They'll say that you're crazy
And a dream of a baby
Like a promise to be free
Children laughing out to sea
All his sea dr ~ Joni Mitchell

There was no doubt what must be done - the law was clear. Written centuries ago, the Lex Caesare decreed that if any woman died while pregnant, the living child was to be immediately cut out of her abdomen. This poor girl, whose name no one knew, was certain to die; but the baby inside her lived and must be given a chance to survive. Selene was fearful. She had never before performed a Caesarean-law operation. ~ Barbara Wood

Why do I have a sense of impending disaster?
(He reflects) Sonders is after my niece and has discovered the secret address where I am sending her to the safe keeping of my sister-in-law Miss Blumenblatt, who has never laid eyes on him, or, for that matter, on Marie either since she was a baby - while I have to leave my business in the charge of my assistant and an apprentice, and follow my new servant, whom I haven't had time to introduce to anyone, to town to join the parade and take my fiancée to dinner in a uniform I can't sit down in.
One false move and we could have a farce on our hands. ~ Tom Stoppard

Look at you, standing there in your iron- gray dress, feeling pious
and self- righteous while you starve small children! ~ V.C. Andrews

I was an avid reader of Surf Life magazine, and I was surprised to discover a write-up of our Tasmanian visit. It made me proud to read how impressed those guys were with Steve's surfing abilities. One incident that didn't make the article was when Steve came partway to shore while I watched him from the beach. All of a sudden he stripped off his wet suit. It was winter and quite cold.
"What are you doing?" I called out.
He stood in the icy water. "This is how dedicated I am to having a boy baby," he said, with a mischievous grin.
I said, "I think you're just supposed to keep them cool, not actually freeze them off."
He laughed. But I knew this was Steve's way of encouraging me to stick to the boy-baby diet. Did I mention that I could not eat chocolate? The sacrifices we make for love. ~ Terri Irwin

Anyway that other thing we almost did in Paris-that's probably off the table for a while.Unless you want that whole baby-I'm-on-fire-when-we kiss thing to become freakishly literal ~ Cassandra Clare

I hurried to the fridge, got a bottle, and put it into a sink of hot water. While the formula was warming, Jack went to the bed and picked up Luke.
Holding him in a secure and competent grip, Jack murmured softly to the baby. It made no difference. Luke started squalling, his mouth wide open and his eyes screwed shut.
"There's no use in trying to quiet him." I rummaged in the diaper bag for a burp cloth. "He just screams louder and louder until he gets what he wants."
"Always works for me," Jack said.
-Luke, Ella, & Jack ~ Lisa Kleypas