Friday night, I was packing my bags at home, and my daughter, Little D, was next to a mom, mom, I was so tired of her name.I told her, can you ask your father, mother is busy.
My 6-year-old daughter, Little D, stormed out of the bedroom door, and I was outside when I heard her say to her father, “Daddy, today Mommy turned into a witch again, the kind who breathes fire…”
I also couldn’t help laughing after listening to, this use “and” word is very accurate description.
I can’t help but think of the psychologist Jung once said that all mothers have the elements of the Virgin and witch, but the degree and proportion of the difference.
And I’m here today to ask all the women in this room, have you ever in your life, ever, for a brief moment, that I, under no circumstances, ever, ever become like my mother.
I don’t know your answer, but I believe that women of our generation have more or less hated or despised their mothers. Why on earth make me so terrible to be their mothers?
This question I have really seriously thought about, should be said to be serious ridicule.
I grew up to get good grades, is a more sensible child, when reading a boy was bullied by the class, the whole body is all oil paint.
I cried home to find my mother, my mother’s first words is: that is not your first to provoke others, or why he does not bully others.And many times, like reading my diary, hanging up on a male classmate.
When I did well in the exam, she said you should keep it up next time. I did it next time. She said you should keep it up again.Look, your little tail is sticking up again.
This is my mother. I don’t want to be like her for the world.
But oddly enough, when I first learned I was pregnant six years ago, the first thing That came to my mind was to pick up the phone and call my mother and ask her how to be a mother.
The mother on the other end of the phone or as a child gently said: look at you, this is not good, what how to do mother, is a woman will do mother, this is the instinct.