Mother's prose

Mom called on the way back and asked if the baby had another injection and was still burning. I said I'm fine, and I don't have a fever anymore. I had an injection at night to consolidate it. It should be no problem. Mother came straight to the point and said cautiously, "I thought about one thing, but I still want to ask if the baby's clothes are a little thick." Maybe ... I think if the clothes are thick, I will get sick if it is hot. " "I'm just talking, but I'm afraid that making a mistake will make my child sick. After all, it is cold. I was sick at that time, and I didn't dare to say that I should wear less clothes, for fear that you would blame me if you were wrong ... "My mother paused, still cautious and hesitant, cautious when consulting, and worried when pleading.

The calm heart lake seems to be rippled by a small stone, which makes my eyes moist, my nose sour and my heart dull. Mom, when did you become so cautious in front of me, like changing roles, and began to talk to me softly, like a child who was afraid of doing something wrong. Once upon a time, I wanted to escape from your shelter and fly alone. I'm dissatisfied that you always treat me like an immature child and tie my hands, thinking that I can get rid of your control and become the only one. When I finally realized that "children are worried for thousands of miles", when I became a family and had my own children, I realized the difficulty and bitterness of going back to my parents' home. Mom, you only have maternal love, and then you lose your youthful spirit and even become cautious when you speak. And I, as before, may be gentle, virtuous and quiet in the eyes of outsiders, but in front of you, I am often willful, talk back and hurt you with rude words. Just like a sentence: we always think that we have been cheated by life and hurt by others, but we are constantly hurting the closest people around us because we are familiar with it and have no scruples.

A few days ago, it was my baby's birthday, and my mother took time to stay for a few days. In the meantime, she always asks, does my being here not affect your rest, and does it disturb your life? Obviously, it's a little different. Although I want her to stay in my heart for a long time, I won't be spoiled in front of her, and I won't have anything else to keep her except that I won't affect or hinder her. At this time, I envy other people's daughters to talk to their mothers and friends at any time, just like Kan Kan, and the expression of coquetry and love is natural. I have to say, as a daughter, there is a gap between my mother and me.

Like many people, I think the name mother is great and full of love. I have always been touched by many people who eulogize and miss my mother. I also had the idea of writing about my mother, but I didn't have time to write. Just like my sudden love for my mother, I never want to and can't express it in front of my mother.

I don't cling to my mother like other children, and I even have a feeling of wanting to escape many times. Once I mentioned my mother, I was mostly dissatisfied and complaining.

My brother is four years younger than me. After having a younger brother, my uncles and aunts always lied to me, saying that my mother was not my real mother, but I picked it up, and made up stories to lie to me vividly. I never believed it. Although I have a younger brother, I am really ignored by my mother. Although I also think my mother is a little biased, I still believe that I was born by my mother.

In primary school, my mother, as my Chinese teacher and head teacher, was not partial to me. On the contrary, if I make a mistake, I will be treated more severely than other students. I always call her teacher after class. After a long time, I felt it was a bit awkward to call my mother at home, so I simply didn't call anything. Of course, we talked less. When I quarrel with my classmates, the other side will often attack me with a fatal trick at the end, saying that I am a "dog fighting the tide" and bullying others unscrupulously because I am a teacher's child. The wicked complained first, and though I gnashed my teeth, I was unable to fight back. I can only feel sad and wronged. Because I am a teacher's child at ordinary times, I am suspected of being flattered. When rubbing against people, I was deprived of my advantage because of the aura of this "teacher's child", but I was injured, but I didn't want to fight back. It seems that teachers' children are often labeled as "role models", fearing poor grades, violating discipline, being lazy and not working hard. It is always compared by other parents, and it is the object that other students envy being coached. I complain, why are mothers and teachers the same person, and why am I the teacher's child? Compared with ordinary children, I would rather be an ordinary child.

Mom and teachers seem to be very kind to other students in class, but for me, if I find that I haven't paid attention to the class and haven't finished my homework, it's a sweeping and ruthless teaching. Once my group cleaned the classroom and left a pile of rubbish. The result was questioned by my mother's teacher. Finally, I took the initiative to walk out of the standing seat to clean up, swept away and took out the garbage at the door. Although I cried from beginning to end and my mother was distressed, I just felt that even if a class made a mistake, I was the one who finally came out to accept the punishment and bear the consequences. I think everyone did something wrong together, and finally my mother wanted to take it out on me alone. For example, on Sunday, I forgot the homework assigned by my mother's teacher, so I didn't write it, but my mother didn't remind me for those two days. As a result, in class, my mother and teacher raised the problem of homework. The others just stood in their seats for a while, while I stood outside with my class. From then on, I began to hate my mother. I think she would rather focus on other children than give me more love.

After a teenager, I don't want to follow my mother like a follower, and I don't want to walk with her by the skirts. Innocent and casual, I don't want to talk to my mother. Every time I come back from school, I see that menstruation's family has cooked meals for the children, and I have to wait for my mother to come home before I start cooking. I can't go to school with my cousins and others.

My mother has been a teacher all her life, teaching one student after another. Many years later, I met someone who claimed to be my mother's student, and my gratitude and praise were beyond words. I'm never proud. On the contrary, I think she is lacking in my growth and education.

I often think that she can't cook, such as sweet potato cakes made by menstruation and steamed buns made by menstruation. Often watch other people's children eat rare things. I am greedy and beg my mother, but I only envy them. I don't think she can make shoes, knit sweaters or cut clothes, because I see other children wearing beautiful cloth shoes and sweaters of various colors, and my aunt can embroider insoles. I think my mother is lazy and stupid. Why do other mothers do it and she doesn't? Until one day, my mother picked up knitting needles, made cloth shoes and embroidered. Others praised her as an apprentice who became a monk halfway, but she did very well. I didn't know my mother was brought up by my grandfather when she was a child, and no one taught her these needlework since childhood. Through observation and thinking, she did a decent job and was really smart.

I think she is too strict with me, always limiting this and that, always complaining that other people's mothers are not convinced of what they say and do. She asked me to write well since I was a child. At that time, I didn't understand why practicing calligraphy was a very important thing. She forced me to practice calligraphy. My formal response made her hate iron and not produce, but made me rebel. When one day I finally grew up, understood that words are like people, and began to practice copybooks hard, I realized my mother's good intentions and pure teachings, and regretted that "teenagers don't work hard, but the oldest ones are sad."

I don't want to ask her any questions. Because she will patiently explain to other students over and over again, but for me, it is possible to improve my tone in less than a few words. I'm impatient, and I'm even more annoyed when she's upset. If I were compared with her other students, I would rather be another student than her child.

I don't know why she is so traditional when she was told who gave birth to several boys. I sometimes think she is vulgar because of some different living habits and concepts. I once laughed at her as an intellectual in my mind, but I don't understand the old saying "raising a poor son and raising a rich daughter" I am introverted, timid and quiet since I was a child, and I think it has something to do with my childhood growth environment. Like most rural parents, she compares me with other children, scolds me for being stupid in public, and doesn't know how to talk when meeting people. Guests at home can't serve the table or pick up food, so they can only wait for the guests to eat in the kitchen alone. She and her father always think that I am in the way of housework. As soon as I intervened, they said, "Go away." At first, my hands-on interest was stifled by them. When I grow up, when I can't do housework, my mother will say that I can't count on anything, not this or that, not what other children do or what I do. So I feel more and more inferior and stupid. Later, when I learned that many children grew up in the same environment as me, almost all of them experienced cynicism for a period of time, and it seemed to understand. Think about the young parents of that period, who are busy making a living, how can they have the energy to study anything? The first child was mostly an experiment, so they forgave their mother.

When the girl reaches puberty, subtle changes have taken place in her body and mind. I'm very shy, very shy. My mother didn't give me any guidance and education for the growth of adolescence. I'm scared, ignorant and troubled, but I won't tell my mother. Teenage girls know beauty, dress up and yearn for beautiful clothes. My youth did not have beautiful clothes, and many times even clothes were worn out. Except for Chinese New Year, I seldom buy clothes for me. At that time, I envied the girl with her sister because I could pick up her clothes and wear them. Seeing that my little friend wears new clothes every summer, I heard that she bought them from Michelle Platini's adoptive mother, so I complained why my parents didn't find me an adoptive mother. Even if I need another dress, I won't ask my mother or tell her. My mother took me to the street and let her choose what she thought was the right price. I never said whether I liked it or not. When I was in middle school, I still wore shabby old-fashioned clothes, which made me feel more inferior. For my life, my mother never pays attention to my dress except for letting me eat well. This incident has become a dark wound in my heart, and it is also the reason why I have been concerned about my mother for many years. I think my mother is incompetent.

Later, I felt that it was not that my mother didn't love me, but that I didn't inherit my mother's rationality, but my father's sensibility. Mom is not a delicate person, just as she can't understand that reading and writing is a kind of interest. In her opinion, it is useless to do nothing. Because of her different personality, maybe there are some things that she can't imagine. Until later, when I was studying abroad, I often missed my home and my mother deeply when I was lonely. I didn't talk much about each other on the phone. She always tells me to eat and wear warm clothes, take care of myself and not be afraid to spend money. Then expecting me to go home became the longest waiting for her in the years to come. We miss each other, but as soon as we get home, we have disputes and differences because of various small things, and our words are as usual. I don't think we are compatible. Why else don't we get along? If I am willful and stubborn, I don't want to admit my mistake to my mother even if I feel wrong afterwards and make her sad. In fact, a mother never bears a grudge against her child. No matter how many times you hurt her, she will never lose her love for her child.

I think I'm ugly, because my mother never praised me or said anything nice about me. I think my family hates me. Until I was 20 years old, my inferiority complex was deeply rooted, and I felt that no one would want me in the future, because I was stupid and ugly. It was not until later that my mother told me that this was good and that was good that I thought she was just comforting me. However, I have overlooked that my mother, like many mothers in China, is very reserved, unable to say or express love well. Although her love is as deep as the sea and as long as time, it is only manifested in the dribs and drabs of life and permeates every endless nagging. It takes some courage to say even a cliche. And later I also believe that it is not a cliche, maybe it is my mother's truth, just like she is unique in my heart, even if I can't bear it anymore, it is the best and irreplaceable in her heart.

I have been with my parents for many years since I went to school and worked outside, but I still can't get rid of a little estranged atmosphere. My mother stopped scolding me and seemed to respect me, but I seemed to feel a little embarrassed.

Later, I experienced a long and ultimately failed relationship. At first, my mother objected, using her eyes and experience to analyze the other person's various unreliable, preventing me from interacting with the other person. But I refused to accept it. I don't think she understands me, doesn't understand feelings and doesn't think about me. The young heart thinks that love is everything, and it is vigorous with the attitude of a moth. When I saw the truth of love and finally lost my way, I realized that what I learned at a heavy price was what my mother said, but I didn't care. When I wanted to turn around, my mother did not blame me, but kindly greeted and comforted me, giving me the warmest warmth and love. At that moment, I finally understood that no matter how far I went, no matter what I did wrong, when I looked back, my mother would always open her broad arms and accept everything you had. Mom will always be your maiden, your harbor when you are most helpless, and your final destination.

When I finally understand my immaturity in your eyes, you have quietly paved the way for me on my road, so that I can be unimpeded and less weathered; When I found that you were old and your hair was gray, you still spared no effort to do everything for your children; When I open my heart to you and tell you that I love you, you are full of joy and think that I have finally grown up; When I write to you lyrically: "Mom and Dad, I love you, and you are the greatest in my heart. I am glad that we are a family in this life. If there is an afterlife, I will be your child. " If you are so disgusting, I don't know whether you will cry for joy or sigh at the sky: "God, there is no afterlife!" " " ?

When I got married and had children of my own, my mother devoted her love to her granddaughter. I realized that raising children is the hardest work, and I, a mischievous and sickly person since I was a child, how much should my mother suffer? She never mentioned it to me.

I found that my mother stopped talking about me, even though sometimes I argued for myself, but my mother didn't respond. It seems that when I grow up, my mother will soon become a child. She also taught me to be kind to my in-laws, to be close to my family, not to be proud, to respect my father, to have a harmonious family, and so on. Alas, mom, I remember your kindness to others and your partiality to me at school. Always let me think of others and let myself suffer. This is the truth that you have been teaching me to do things. Although I don't quite agree with this motto, I still pay tribute to you, mother, your broadness and your mind.