kids

Fighting with siblings, especially the little ones, has always, and will always be the same. You fight with your hands tied behind your back. You know that you'll lose. But you still fight back, either you want to annoy them or let them feel the extra satisfaction of beating you after a long fight. No matter which of the two ways you take, it clearly shows that you love them. A lot.

Adults who use big words in order to seem intelligent are annoying, especially those who are not intelligent.

People should be more careful about what they read to their kids,_ Park said. __ome of this stuff sounds dangerous.

Many millions of pregnancies__any if not most of which have each led to the birth of at least one child__ere each used as nothing but a conspicuous means to a secret end called the evasion of abortion.

Although they probably know that some children were used and some children are used as miners, most adults are ignorant of the chocolate industry__ use of minors.

For their never-ending endeavours to obtain or retain wealth, countries desperately need companies, because they__nlike most human beings__ave the means of production, and human beings, because they__nlike all companies__ave the means of reproduction.

He had always imagined that some sort of emotional mental equipment was meant to arrive, when he was forty-five, say, or fifty, a kind of kit that would enable him to deal with the impending loss of a parent. If he were only in possession of this equipment, he would be just fine. He would be noble and selfless, wise and philosophical. Perhaps he would even have kids of his own, and would presumably possess the kind of maturity that comes with fatherhood, the understanding of life as a process.

For the most part, each day listed a different rendition of "Justin ate well" and "Justin took a great nap". Every now and then they noted Justin doing unusual things, like biting. I was embarrassed to read "Justin is biting his friends again" or "Justin did better with biting and only bit one boy". Other than that, though, my son was a pretty happy-go-lucky kid.

I watched her with the crab as she ignored all my admonitions that the poor crab just needed to be set free if he was to have any chance of surviving. And God showed up there on that beach to teach me a lesson. Nothing survives when it's being smothered. Life, real life, requires being free to move about in the great big ocean, not being cradled in little hot hands that will stifle independence and creativity. We can't keep our crabs (or our kids) in a bucket and expect them to go far in life.

It's tough being AWESOME all the time, but the kids need someone to look up to!

Poor woman! She probably thought change of air might agree with many of her children.

First, I'm not getting married, so you can forget the wife. Second, if I was insane enough to get married, I wouldn't have kids. Third, if I was insane enough to get married and have kids, it would be a cold day in hell I'd let you babysit.

[E]verywhere I'm looking at kids, adults mostly don't seem to like them, not even the parents do. They call the kids gorgeous and so cute, they make the kids do the thing all over again so they can take a photo, but they don't want to actually play with them, they'd rather drink coffee talking to other adults. Sometimes there's a small kid crying and the Ma of it doesn't even hear.

You do what you can," he said, after seconds of silence had stretched to a minute, "to make sure your kids are safe. From the second they're born..." He stared at the lines of Nightshade's face, the ordinariness of it. "You want to protect them. From every skinned knee, from hurt feelings and punk kids who push smaller ones into the dirt, form the worst parts of yourself and the worst parts of this world.

If only parents would listen! If only they would let us talk instead of forever and eternally and continuously harping and preaching and nagging and correcting and yacking, yacking, yacking! But they won__ listen! They simply won__ or can__ or don__ want to listen, and we kids keep winding up back in the same old frustrating, lost, lonely corner with no one to relate to either verbally or physically.

onething i have learnt is that parents should treat their kids in a way they would love in return, because growing up litteraly makes you a kid again. you will get it too.

What is the matter with people?_ Sam fumed. __ said we needed a hundred kids and we get thirteen? Fifteen, maybe?___hey__e just kids,_ Astrid said.__e__e all just kids. We__e all going to be very hungry kids.___hey__e used to being told what to do by their parents or teachers. You need to be more direct. As in, Hey, kid, get to work. Now._ She thought for a moment then added, __r else.___r else what?_ Sam asked.__r else_I don__ know. We__e not going to let anyone starve. If we can help it. I don__ know the __r else._ All I know is you can__ expect kids to just automatically behave the right way. I mean, when I was little my mom would give me a gold star when I was good and take away a privilege when I wasn__.___hat am I supposed to do? Tell three hundred kids spread out in seventy or eighty different homes that they can__ watch DVDs? Confiscate iPods?___t__ not easy playing daddy to three hundred kids,_ Astrid admitted.____ not anyone__ daddy,_ Sam practically snarled. Another sleepless night, in a long string of them, had left him in a foul mood. ____ supposed to be the mayor, not the father.___hese kids don__ know the difference,_ Astrid pointed out. __hey need parents. So they look to you. And Mother Mary. Me, even, to some extent.

Sorry to disappoint you, parents - but when your kids come out as gay, bi or transgender, it is not about you.