Vanna White Quotes

Whenever I'm out late she makes a sandwich for my school lunch. I always protest and tell her not to, saying I'll make my own when I get home. But she likes it. She says it reminds her of when I was younger and needed her.

It would be very sad if children had no memories before those of school. What they need most is the love and attention of their mother.

I've always wanted to be a mom. I had a great relationship with mine. I'm ready to pass on to my child all the great love that my mom had for me.

I like wearing my dad's sweaters because I knew that he wore them when he held me when I was a baby.

I still do have the little lunch bag that my mother made out of a towel and embroidered with my name on it for when I went to kindergarten.

I don't really remember, but I'm positive that whenever I cried, my mother gave me something to eat. I'm sure that whenever I had a fight with the little girl next door, or it was raining and I couldn't go out, or I wasn't invited to a birthday party, my mother gave me a piece of candy to make me feel better.

I always wanted to be with a woman who has the same mindset and wants to look after me like my mum.

I'm a hands-on mum and I'm lucky to be able to be that. I can remember the things my mum used to do with me and that time together is so important.

To wake up to the sound of my son saying 'Mama, mama!' It's the best sound ever.

I love sleeping in my son's silly racecar bed. I love watching hours of 'Yo Gabba Gabba.' I love long playdates with his best friend Jack and traveling with Zev. Most of all I love coming home from work and seeing Zev run up to me saying, 'My mommy's home! My mommy's home!'

I have very vivid memories of my mother reading to us as kids.

Whenever something went wrong when I was young - if I had a pimple or if my hair broke - my mom would say, 'Sister mine, I'm going to make you some soup.' And I really thought the soup would make my pimple go away or my hair stronger.

At the end of the day, I'm Violet's mom, and I want the best for her.

Ever since I was little, I loved soup! Whether I was sick or had a bad day, my momma would always make me soup!

In my house, my mother is my superhero.

I'd like my children to remember all the cuddles and bedtimes, and that I worshipped them unconditionally.

With my Mom and Dad, we always had everything that we needed, but not everything that we wanted. I am going to get my parents what they want, especially my Mom.

The first human I ever said 'I love you' to was my oldest son.

There is no love like a mother’s - she who carries the child that God knits in the womb, she who nourishes and guides, she who teaches and inspires, she who gives of her heart and soul and self for the good and the happiness of her children and her family.

My love for the child asleep in the crib, the child's need for me, for my vigilance, had made my life valuable in a way that even the most abundantly offered love, my parents', my brother's, even Tom's, had failed to do. Love was required of me now--to be given, not merely to be sought and returned.

Children spell love with four letters: T-I-M-E.

The mother memories that are closest to my heart are the small gentle ones that I have carried over from the days of my childhood. They are not profound, but they have stayed with me through life, and when I am very old, they will still be near . . . Memories of mother drying my tears, reading aloud, cutting cookies and singing as she did, listening to prayers I said as I knelt with my forehead pressed against her knee, tucking me in bed and turning down the light. They have carried me through the years and given my life such a firm foundation that it does not rock beneath flood or tempest.

One of my most precious possessions is my memory of a home in which love was supreme, in which I cannot recall ever a cross word having passed between father and mother. We all owe such a blessing to our children.

You never realize how much your mother loves you till you explore the attic - and find every letter you ever sent her, every finger painting, clay pot, bead necklace, Easter chicken, cardboard Santa Claus, paperlace Mother's Day card and school report since day one.

Papa sat down at the table and poured his tea from the china tea set with pink flowers on the edges. I waited for him to ask Jaja and me to take a sip, as he always did. A love sip, he called it, because you shared the little things you loved with the people you love.