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@cantenkaya: ÇOCUKLARIN DUYMAYI EN ÇOK İSTEDİĞİ 10 CÜMLE #çocukeğitimi #annelik #annelikduygusu #çocukpsikolojisi #ilişkiler #ilişkikoçu #çocuk #çocuklar

cantenkaya
cantenkaya
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Region: TR
Wednesday 07 August 2024 14:00:00 GMT
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aydin.kg
Aydın K. :
48 yaşımdayım. 2 çocuk babasıyım. Bunları duymak benim bile bu yaşta hoşuma gider 😂
2024-08-08 20:10:11
23
sofor128
Köksal :
Dayak ve küfürle büyüdüm dünya da en sevmediğim kişi babandır annem 6 yaşında rahmetli oldu
2024-08-10 03:32:54
16
user3517147303321
♧lonera♧ :
valla abi bu kelimeleri kimse bana soylemedi sen derken bana demişsin gibi hayal ediyorun NOT:evet ben normal değil im
2024-08-27 21:57:53
7
rehman_huseynli
⚡️Rəhman Hüseynli⚡️ :
Bana söyleyen yok anca bağırıyolar annem dövüyo
2024-08-15 07:16:35
3
ayxan1557
ayxan_057 :
İçimden geldiyi için Hepsinide ben söylemişim o yüzden çocuklarım mükəmmel olmuş🥹❤️
2024-08-08 04:25:18
7
nonamewxyz
noname :
Sadece söylemek degil, ugulamali göstermekte gerekir
2024-08-10 18:28:09
6
tuzun.kalip
Metin Tzn :
Bunları bana deseler hiç ölmem
2024-08-11 07:11:41
5
yunusemre
ʏᴜɴᴜs𝟼𝟷ʸᵉᵏ :
Dayı sana demiş olabilirler ama biz cok agır sartlarda büyüdük hata yapma sansımız yoktu
2024-08-09 20:57:25
10
tasaremo
emre35 :
11 bunlari sana söyleyemediğim için çok pismanim🥺
2024-08-08 07:11:06
4
users9634
users :
2 çocuğum var hiç bir zaman bunların bir tanesini bile söyleyemedim
2024-08-07 21:28:42
1
asilhnm92
ঔৣ🧚𝐍𝐨𝐑𝐚𝐚🧚ঔ :
biz bile bu cümleleri duymayı isteriz
2024-09-19 22:50:42
0
hasan_engin
Ozan Hasan Engin :
iyiki doğmuşsun iyiki benim oğlum olmuşsun diyorum
2024-08-08 09:54:30
5
rnej35
☪ رۄضہ ناصر ☪ :
o sırada bunları 1 kere bile duymayan ben😢
2024-09-01 20:22:37
4
nisaecee.34
NisaaEceee💞💫 :
bitek banamı yabancı geliyo bu kelimeler...
2024-10-06 18:58:21
3
kendine__gel
kendine gel☑️ :
söylüozda pek iplemiolar.taaaaam dio
2024-08-08 13:53:30
3
mavi68245
güler :
hocam cocuk duygusal gelişimini tamamlamamış ne demek nasıl tamamlar lütfen bu konuda bilgi verirmisiniz
2025-03-20 00:14:41
0
alevikopat
Alevikopat :
ben her gün diyorum onun mutlu olması için degil gercekten öyle oldugu için oglumu coķ seviyorum yaradanıma binlerce kez şükürler olsun onu bana bagışladıgı için
2024-10-27 18:01:50
0
baytar05ferhat
Ferhat Zeytünlü153 :
ben
2024-08-07 21:33:58
0
mehmetaslan70540
tesadüf... :
👍👍👍👍👍Teşekkür ederim 🥰🥰
2024-08-19 20:38:03
0
babazade699
~babazade~🦅 :
Men onlar menim nefesimdiler
2024-08-29 16:19:11
0
aynayabakinsanol
candır can :
abi maşallah da sözlerine, bir çocuğu bir şey başaramadan bir şey yapmadan övmek iyi değildir yaptıktan sonra önemli ama bunların hepsi doğrudur çocuk yerine koymak lazım kendimizi (en önemlisi)
2024-08-29 13:04:59
0
yunususta52
Korkmaz Yapı :
gurbette çalışıyorum 2. sınıfa giden oğlumun her akşam 1 saat kitap okumasını görüntülü dinliyorum ve paha biçilemez bir feyz alıyorum
2024-10-11 21:25:43
0
erxy_600
ERO LANCASTER :
hiçbirini ailem bana içten söylemedi😞
2024-09-01 19:05:43
0
gunay_elman
Günay İbrahimova :
Mən ❤️🤗
2024-09-01 09:04:18
0
murateco1
Yasemin :
Çok şükür hepsinide söylemişim çünkü onlar bana Rabbimin emaneti bana nasip eden Rabbime hamd olsun 🤲🤲😍😇
2024-08-08 04:15:56
0
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that is the sentence that lives behind my ribs now, a quiet bell ringing in the hollow of me. i have tried to count the ways, not because i need the number, but because i want to understand how something can be infinite and still feel like it is only beginning. i love you like the tide loves the shore—pulling away only so it can return with more of itself. i love you like the dark loves the stars—not consuming them, just holding them against its vastness so they remember how to shine. i love you like a language loves its first speaker, every word a discovery, every silence a grammar we invented together. and yet. after all the metaphors, after all the ways i have tried to fold my devotion into shapes you might recognize, my heart still sits up at night and says, more. more. more. not because you are not enough. never that. you are the entire sky, and i am a girl with a telescope, finding new galaxies every time i look. but the heart is a strange instrument. it does not measure love by what it has already given. it measures by what it is capable of becoming. and i am becoming something wider, deeper, stranger, softer. i am becoming a vessel that keeps expanding the moment i think it is full. do you know what it is to love someone in a thousand ways and still feel like you have only just learned the alphabet? that is where i live now. every morning i wake and there is a new dialect of tenderness waiting on my tongue. i could love you with my patience, which is a garden i keep weeding. i could love you with my attention, which is a lamp i hold up to every corner of you, even the corners you think are too dark to be seen. i could love you with my forgiveness, which is not a door i open once but a window i leave ajar so the air between us never grows stale. i could love you with my waiting, which is not empty time but a field i am planting while you are away. i could love you with my joy, which is a river that does not ask permission to run. i could love you with my grief, which is proof that i have something worth losing. i could love you with my anger, transformed into a fire that warms instead of burns. i could love you with my fear, held out like a trembling bird, trusting your hands. and after all that—after i have loved you with every season i have inside me—my heart still whispers, there is more. there is a room i have not opened. there is a song i have not sung. there is a version of me that has not yet learned how to love you, and she is waiting to be born. is that not terrifying? to know that love is not a cup you fill but an ocean you fall into? to know that you can give everything and still have everything, because the giving is not subtraction but expansion? i used to think love was a finite thing, a candle burning down. now i think it is a sun. now i think it is the universe, still expanding, still creating, still pulling new light out of old darkness. and you are the center of it. not because i have made you an idol, but because you are the gravity that keeps me from flying apart. i could love you in a thousand different ways. i could love you in ways i have not named, in ways that have no language, in ways that only the body knows. and somehow, after all of that, my heart would still have more to give. not because i am holding back. not because i am waiting for something in return. but because love, is not a transaction. it is a transformation. and every time i love you, i become a little more of who i was always meant to be. so i will keep loving you. i will love you in a thousand ways, and then i will learn a thousand more. i will love you until the word love itself feels too small, too borrowed, too human. and then i will love you beyond words. beyond metaphor. beyond the reach of my own imagination. because my heart has more to give. and it always will. that is the miracle. that is the ache. that is the most beautiful, impossible thing i know. yours, in every language my heart is still learning to speak.
that is the sentence that lives behind my ribs now, a quiet bell ringing in the hollow of me. i have tried to count the ways, not because i need the number, but because i want to understand how something can be infinite and still feel like it is only beginning. i love you like the tide loves the shore—pulling away only so it can return with more of itself. i love you like the dark loves the stars—not consuming them, just holding them against its vastness so they remember how to shine. i love you like a language loves its first speaker, every word a discovery, every silence a grammar we invented together. and yet. after all the metaphors, after all the ways i have tried to fold my devotion into shapes you might recognize, my heart still sits up at night and says, more. more. more. not because you are not enough. never that. you are the entire sky, and i am a girl with a telescope, finding new galaxies every time i look. but the heart is a strange instrument. it does not measure love by what it has already given. it measures by what it is capable of becoming. and i am becoming something wider, deeper, stranger, softer. i am becoming a vessel that keeps expanding the moment i think it is full. do you know what it is to love someone in a thousand ways and still feel like you have only just learned the alphabet? that is where i live now. every morning i wake and there is a new dialect of tenderness waiting on my tongue. i could love you with my patience, which is a garden i keep weeding. i could love you with my attention, which is a lamp i hold up to every corner of you, even the corners you think are too dark to be seen. i could love you with my forgiveness, which is not a door i open once but a window i leave ajar so the air between us never grows stale. i could love you with my waiting, which is not empty time but a field i am planting while you are away. i could love you with my joy, which is a river that does not ask permission to run. i could love you with my grief, which is proof that i have something worth losing. i could love you with my anger, transformed into a fire that warms instead of burns. i could love you with my fear, held out like a trembling bird, trusting your hands. and after all that—after i have loved you with every season i have inside me—my heart still whispers, there is more. there is a room i have not opened. there is a song i have not sung. there is a version of me that has not yet learned how to love you, and she is waiting to be born. is that not terrifying? to know that love is not a cup you fill but an ocean you fall into? to know that you can give everything and still have everything, because the giving is not subtraction but expansion? i used to think love was a finite thing, a candle burning down. now i think it is a sun. now i think it is the universe, still expanding, still creating, still pulling new light out of old darkness. and you are the center of it. not because i have made you an idol, but because you are the gravity that keeps me from flying apart. i could love you in a thousand different ways. i could love you in ways i have not named, in ways that have no language, in ways that only the body knows. and somehow, after all of that, my heart would still have more to give. not because i am holding back. not because i am waiting for something in return. but because love, is not a transaction. it is a transformation. and every time i love you, i become a little more of who i was always meant to be. so i will keep loving you. i will love you in a thousand ways, and then i will learn a thousand more. i will love you until the word love itself feels too small, too borrowed, too human. and then i will love you beyond words. beyond metaphor. beyond the reach of my own imagination. because my heart has more to give. and it always will. that is the miracle. that is the ache. that is the most beautiful, impossible thing i know. yours, in every language my heart is still learning to speak.
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