I am a single mother - that is the reality.
In 2013, 71 percent of black children in America were born to an unwed mother, as were 53 percent of Hispanic children and 36 percent of white children. Indeed, a single parent is the new norm.
I'm a single parent, a working mother, an executive, and an author. My greatest accomplishment will be to raise three wonderful children.
If there's a problem, we at Wine Library never tell ourselves that once we handle this issue, we'll never have to deal with the person again. We talk to every single person as though we're going to wind up sitting next to that person at his or her mother's house that night for dinner.
When I had my first child, I was too embarrassed to tell a single soul that I wasn't the over-the-moon, picture-perfect new mother I was supposed to be.
I was the seventh child in a family of eight siblings. We lost our father very young, and my mother had pretty much single-handedly brought us up.
If you try singling me out to my mother, she'll be down your throat. She has three sons, and she's equally proud of us all.
I'm like your mother, your sister, whatever.
I remember the different things that were happening to my family as we were getting situated and buying our first home in southwest Detroit, watching my mother learn how to drive for the first time.
My father died in 1957, just before I was born. My mother went to her Jewish aunt, who slammed the door in her face.
I used to have lot of arguments with my mother due to a lot of bruises on my body for trying my hand at wrestling. I used to say, 'I am Rock,' and I would get slapped.
My mother used to pat me instead of slapping me whenever I made a mistake.
I am the mother, and the emotional chord with my children is naturally strong. So there are times when I might get sleepless nights because I am worried.
I was a daughterless mother. I had nowhere to put the things a mother places on her daughter. The nail polish I used to paint our toenails hardened. Our favorite videos gathered dust. Her small apron was in a box in the attic. Her shoes - the sparkly ones, the leopard rain boots, the ballet slippers - stood in a corner.
My mother never threw anything out. If there was a sliver of a tomato, it was in the refridge. I would come in with my friends, and Mom would say, 'Want something to eat?' In 20 minutes, there was four, five dishes to eat.
Avoid sloth, the mother of all vices!
Most people call my style of dress slovenly, I call it extreme casual. If I didn't have a mother and a sister for the times I do have to get dressed, I would be absolutely lost.
I want to show that the underdog can win. I believe we're all the same: you, a slum girl, my mother.
It was a very scary place to be. I don't think any mother or father would like to have their five year old wandering alone in the slums and train stations of Calcutta.
When my mother did fittings for her clients, I was hiding, looking at these beautiful ladies try on these fantastic clothes. I was dreaming as a small child to try these clothes on myself.
