An essay that hurts the child and the mother.

Why do some parents cry while beating their children? That's what it means. They don't want to hit you, but you are too obedient, so when they hit you, your body hurts and they are heartbroken. This is an essay about mother's inner pain. I hope I can help you.

I'm in a bad mood recently, and my heart is in a mess.

On this day, I have to pay the utilities again. When I looked at my wallet, the change was gone. How could it be gone? Did you lose it or did your son take it? I guess my son took it. I fought back my anger and went shopping. I happened to meet my son and bought many toys. I was so angry that I couldn't control my emotions. I slapped him twice when I went up, and said sharply, "Go home and wait for me on my knees!" "

On the way to buy food, I am always angry. Actually, I don't approve of hitting children. When I was a child, my mother often beat our brothers and sisters. My mother's motto in life is "A dutiful son comes from under a stick". I have always been negative about this sentence. I thought to myself, when I have a child, I will never touch him or her. After getting married and having children, her mother-in-law often said, "Should children fight or not? Not when he grows up. Don't let him have a long temper, he will spoil the children. "

Two days ago, I saw in the newspaper that the child stole the money within the scope of "should fight" and reviewed the words of two mothers. It seems that the child should fight. When I got home, I saw my son playing with the toy I just bought. I was so angry that I swore at the child: "kneel down!" " "The son frighten hurriedly knelt down. I found a bamboo stick, paused in my hand and said, "Give me your hand! ""My son held out his hand, and I drew two bamboo sticks violently, thinking, "Don't hurt your bones, it's broken." However, I realized that I couldn't do it without fighting, so I drew two signatures on his back and thought, "Don't hurt the child." However, there is an anger: "If you don't fight!" I drew two more signatures on his thigh. I asked, "Do you still take mom's money?" The son said, "No."

Seeing my son admit his mistake, I stopped the punishment and let him stand up. In a short time, my son was jumping and playing like a man who had nothing to do.

I bought a bowl of potato powder for my son because I couldn't cook because of the power failure. My son saw that I didn't buy it for myself. He divided the potato flour into two parts and gave me one. "Mom, you also eat." I said, "Mom is not hungry, you can eat." The son said, "How can you not be hungry? If you don't eat, I won't eat. " So I took the bowl and ate it with my son.

In the dead of night, looking at my sleeping son, I gently stroked his red mark with my hand and tears came out.

When I became a mother, I deeply realized the greatness of maternal love and better understood my mother's love for myself. When I was sick as a child, I saw my mother running around in a hurry, and my heart would give birth to a little exultation. I took the opportunity to ask my mother for something that my mother usually doesn't want to buy. Every time I get sick, my requirements can always be met. Now that I am a mother, I really appreciate the anxiety of my mother when my child is sick. Although the child is ill, the mother's heart is more painful and anxious than the child. . . . . .

A few days ago, my son fell ill and suddenly vomited and pulled again without warning. At three o'clock at night, my son pulled for the first time. After he felt sick in his stomach, he called for his mother. I pulled Baba, and I quickly jumped up to take him, but it was too late. My son has loose bowels and has been lying in bed by himself. When I heard my son have loose bowels, my brain turned quickly and I carefully thought about what my son had eaten during the day. I have never eaten anything unsanitary except the watermelon he ate was a little ripe. After my son finished playing, I put him to sleep for a while. I get up to wash the sheets and clean the dirt on the floor. After cleaning up, I can't sleep anymore. Looking at my son's little face, I have been praying. Don't let my son pull up his stomach. God bless my son tomorrow morning.

The next morning, my son didn't want to eat and kept asking me to hug him. I made breakfast and watched my husband eat well, but I had no appetite at all. I coaxed my son into drinking several mouthfuls of porridge. In order to make him drink more, I lied to him that I drank it all and left it for him. My son barely took a few sips, but I only took a few sips when I lied to him. Soon my son vomited all the rice he had just drunk. Although I didn't eat, I still burped. Hey, my stomach is like communicating with my son's stomach.

My son didn't eat all day, so did I. I didn't eat all day. I really have no appetite. I don't feel hungry at all if I don't eat, but I feel listless. My whole body is soft and my spirit is on the verge of collapse. I've been wondering whether I should go to the hospital. Later, I called my mother and found the root of the disease. It turns out that my son vomited and pulled again this time, and the symptoms were the same as when I was a child. Later, my mother cured her son in an indigenous way.

After sleeping all afternoon, the first thing my son said when he woke up was, mom, eat. I was so happy that I served a bowl of porridge that had been cooked for a long time. My son drank a bowl in a few bites. My mood is suddenly enlightened, my appetite is greatly increased, and my stomach is hungry. In this way, my mother and I soon drank half a pot of rice upside down.

Now I am with my son every day, eating, sleeping and playing. Oh, I feel that my spirit and body are closely connected with him. I just eat his body. As soon as he was ill, I suddenly panicked and had a nervous breakdown. Now I really understand that sentence. I am sick in my son and hurt in my mother's heart! ! !