Your My Baby Daddy Quotes & Sayings

Hush, little baby, don't you cry Daddy fixes all things by and by. Cease your striving, rest your eyes You're my joy and you're my prize. — Beth Moore

But if there was no baby ...
Then he wouldn't be a daddy.
And for aome reason, he desperatly wanted to be a daddy. — Wendy Corsi Staub

It was a phone call she didn't want to make. She didn't want to hurt him. Whatever words she gave him, it would take being a daddy away from him. — Crissi Langwell

Let the child see Mama and Daddy both at least once a day. Never quarrel or argue in front of a baby or a child-it destroys security. — L. Ron Hubbard

I love you, baby girl. When you're sad, I am too. — Darla Phelps

You're right. You and Millie look more like your mom," I said...
"That's because we spent more time with her," Henry said seriously, as if it were common knowledge, as if resemblances were based on nurture instead of nature. It was true, to a point. Mannerisms, quirks, style. All those things could be learned and copied.
"So if I spend a lot of time with Kathleen, do you think she'll start to look like me?" I asked him, steering the focus away from his father.
Henry looked doubtfully from me to my grunting, banana-bearded child and back again.
"I hope so," he said.
Georgia snickered, and I hooted and held my hand in the air so Henry could give me five.
"You hear that, Georgia? Henry hopes so," I crowed. "I guess that means your baby daddy is a beautiful man."
Henry obviously didn't mean to be funny, and he totally left me hanging. Georgia reached up and slapped my hand and winked at me. — Amy Harmon

I've been very busy working on the ABC Family sitcom, 'Baby Daddy.' — Tahj Mowry

When they were both five, Charlie and David asked their mother where babies come from. Charlie's mom folded herself into an armchair, sat Charlie on her lap, and pointed to pictures in what Charlie had always thought was a book of sea creatures. She helped him sounds out the scientific names. David's mother had a more whimsical answer. "When two people make love, a little blue fair leaps from the daddy to the mummy, connecting them like a ribbon of light. And sometimes, the fairy leaves a baby in the mummy's tummy." Would the fairies leave any more babies in his mummy's tummy? David wanted to know. "No, Davie." Why not? "Because Daddy's fairies are lazy. — John M. Cusick

Well, I divide the father question into three separate categories. First, there's the sire. He makes a baby, that's it. Doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the lamb once it's' planted, though he might. Anyone with a set of gonads can be a sire. Then there's the father. He also does the fertilization, but he sticks around provides support, both financial and emotional. Then in our little corner of the world we have daddies. A daddy is the more mature man in a sexual relationship, one who provides direction, discipline...and love for his brat. — Scribe Mozell

Come over and climb on Daddy, baby. — Alexa Riley

So, like, Zeus was just some great big preternatural baby-daddy? — Nicole Peeler

Daddy, they need to take the casket." Robert's voice came from somewhere behind him. "I love you, baby. Forever and always." Kane pressed his lips against the top of the casket, his tears falling freely on the polished mahogany box. This was it, they were taking Avery. It felt so wrong to leave his side, so final. How would he find the strength to go on without him? Kane kissed the coffin again before he forced himself away. Robert materialized beside him, handing him a handkerchief - one of Avery's - and he cried a little harder when the scent of his favorite cologne wafted from the soft fabric. Kane stood, watching the guards, Robert's arm wrapped around his shoulders, holding him up, as Avery was taken from the room. Kane followed closely behind the casket, waiting until they loaded Avery inside the hearse to transport him to the funeral events of the day. — Kindle Alexander

Summer time an' the livin' is easy, Fish are jumpin' an' the cotton is high. Oh, yo' daddy's rich, and yo' ma' is good-lookin', So hush, little baby, don' yo' cry. — Ira Gershwin

You want baby daddy to be one step ahead of you. Which they can't be, so it's a weird thing to ask for. But I have. — Mila Kunis

Your daddy and me named you Otha. It means 'wealth'. You were your daddy's treasure from the time you were born until he died. He used to say there were rubies buried deep inside of you. Remember, baby, don't never let a man mine you for your riches. Don't let him take a pickax to that treasure in your soul. Remember, they can't get it until you give it to them. — Cynthia Bond

James was a good man, and although Farren had never met Q, Chanel's sorry ass baby daddy, judging off the way Chanel acted and carried herself, she knew that Chanel could do better. In — Nako

Here's your daddy," Emily whispered to the pink bundle in her arms. They had taken her away right after she was born to run some tests. They were worried about her heart, which had scared the shit out of me. Emily had held my hand and reassured me that our little girl would be OK. She prayed to God , so she was banking on the big man to save our baby. I wished I trusted him that much.

Glines, Abbi (2014-12-15). Kiro's Emily: A Rosemary Beach Novella (The Rosemary Beach Series Book 10) (Kindle Locations 1159-1162). Atria Books. Kindle Edition. — Abbi Glines

I'm really grateful that my baby daddy is incredibly involved. But there's certain things I wish he could just telepathically know. — Kathryn Hahn

There is nobody as brave as a baby taking his/her first non-stop 5 steps alone from Mummy's hand to daddy's hand ... trust me on that — Sameh Elsayed

This one guy Roland was so weird that during sex his voice altered - as if he were a fucking alien - and he started talking like a baby in a bizarre high-pitched voice. He'd start screaming shit like, "I just want to fuck my baby! I'm your baby! Will you be my baby? Baby? Baby?" For one thing, he couldn't decide whether he was the baby or the daddy. Make up your mind, freak. I had to force myself out from under him and flee the apartment undressed, clutching my clothes. — Kathy Griffin

Harlow exhaled. "And you're not wearing the On the Prowl for my Next Baby Daddy shirt?" That got a laugh out of me. "God, I love that shirt. Talk about a surefire way to keep the boys and their come-ons at bay ... " I had to glance down to remember which tee I'd slid into to ensure the guys kept their distance. Ah, classic. No Daddy Issues or Low Self-Esteem Here. "Do — Nicole Williams

Then I pace the floor, rocking him softly in my arms, patting his ass. You know I must be really desperate - because I try singing: Hush, little baby, don't say a word Daddy's gonna buy you a . . . I stop - because why the fuck would any baby want a mockingbird? None of those nursery rhymes make any goddamn sense. I don't know any other lullabies, so I go for the next best thing, "Enter Sandman" by Metallica: Take my hand, We're off to never-never land . . . — Emma Chase

In the beloved community of 'Our Father,' the same desperate love that a mother has for her baby or that a child has for his or her daddy is extended to all our human family. Biological love is too small a vision. Nationalism is far too myopic. A love for our own relatives or the people of our own country is not a bad things. But our love does not stop at the border. We now have a family that includes by transcends biology and geography. We have family in Iraq, Peru, Afghanistan and Sudan. We have family members who are starving and homeless, dying of AIDS and living in the midst of war. This is the new family of our Father. — Shane Claiborne

I'd gazed into the abyss and the abyss had gazed back, just like Daddy always said it would: You want to know about life, Mac? It's simple. Keep watching rainbows, baby. Keep looking at the sky. You find what you look for. If you go hunting good in the world, you'll find it. If you go hunting evil ... well, don't. — Karen Marie Moning

Sleep tight in the secure arms of your daddy. I know I have. He'll be good at making you feel safe.
When you're scared, let him remind you that he's right there, always ready to hold you when you need it.
More than anything, I want to tell you this: You are a fighter. You are strong. You are brave. You can accomplish anything you set your mind to. This world is yours to make the most of, and I believe you will live a life so full of happiness that I will feel it from above.
Never let others bring you down. Their words don't change who you are. You are in control of who you are. You, my sweet Lila Kate, are your mother's daughter. We fight for what we want and what we believe in. We don't listen to others, and we are secure in who we are. Show the world how amazing Lila Kate Carter is, and climb mountains, baby girl. Climb them all. — Abbi Glines

While I was looking into Olivia's mad eyes and dreaming, my son left his game and his place by the fire. I didn't even notice as he went toward what I had thought was a bundle of rags. I didn't notice as he turned it over and drew back the blanket, lifted it carefully in his small arms.
I only noticed when he spoke.
"Look, Daddy!"
Then, too late, I turned around. I did not know what I was seeing, but even then I felt a sudden lurch of shock and dread. I felt as if I had looked away at a crucial moment and my child had fallen into the fire and been burned horribly.
I saw my son, my Alan, my darling boy, and in his arms a creature with staring, terrible black eyes. Something that had not stirred or cried out even when Olivia threw it on the floor.
"Daddy," Alan said, glowing. "It's a baby. — Sarah Rees Brennan

Jersey chasers are a dime a dozen, always willing to take a ride on the football side, but you've got to be careful with the overly eager ones, the ones who aren't just trying to make a trophy outta you, but a fuckin' Lifetime Achievement award. As in, poking holes in condoms and look at that, you're a baby daddy. I don't know if Josie falls into that latter category, but she's a little too eager for my taste. — Jen Frederick

My name is Jasmine Lewis, and this is my story. It's a cautionary tale about money, sex, and power, but I guess those words are redundant.

Money is always about sex and power.

And sex is always about power.

And why have power if you can't have sex and money?

But anyway, this is a story about money, sex, and power. This is the story of The Sugar Baby Club. — Teresa Lo

Summertime And the living is easy Fish are jumpin' And the cotton is high Oh, your daddy's rich And your mama's good lookin' So hush little baby now don't you cry One of these mornin's You're gonna rise up singin' Then you'll spread your wings And take to the sky But til that mornin' Ain't nothin' can harm you With your daddy And your mammy standin' by. — George Gershwin

Cohen starts smiling and nods his head. "This is good, Daddy. I knew my angels would give me sisters. I asked them." Melissa stops laughing and grabs my hand. "What do you mean, baby?" she asks on a whisper. "I asked Nana, Mommy Fia, and Auntie Grace to give me a sister. I said I wanted a sister more than anything in the world so I can look out for her like Daddy looks out for you. — Harper Sloan

Rachel paused. "Do I need to get your mom? Did you just find out you're pregnant, and you don't know the baby daddy?" "No! And you really need to lay off Sixteen and Pregnant." "It's a train wreck. You wanna look away, but you just can't," Rachel said in defense of her reality show obsession. — Calia Read

Thank you. There were three of us kids, all right together. I'm the oldest, she was the knee-baby, and my brother Henry came last. Funny, I miss her all the time, but I miss her most when I'm reading Austen. We'd been fans since we were in the seventh and eighth grade, two Creole girls gigglin' about marriage proposals gone bad. Our daddy teased us about reading each other passages during a Fourth of July crawfish boil, so he named the biggest one Mr. Darcy and threw him in the pot." She looked up, a smile fighting the tears in her eyes. "We refused to eat him. — Mary Jane Hathaway

Are you ready, baby?" I asked her. "I'm ready, daddy." "Follow my lead," I said. "Like old times." "Like old times," she said. The — J.R. Rain

Are Cleo and Zadie beautiful?" I asked his throat in an uncontrolled utterance because even if I already knew, I still had to know, and felt his fingers bunch my hair reflexively. "They are," he rumbled. "So, so beautiful, baby." "I gave you them," I told him, fading, finally fucking fading. "You did, Millie," he agreed softly. "I gave you them. I gave you that Daddy they call you that warms you to your bones." He pulled me deeper into his arms, shifting into me, taking me to my back, smothering me with his weight and heat, drowning me with his scent, but he said nothing. Still fading, I murmured, "I gave you them. — Kristen Ashley

Yeah, go ahead and try to be your daddy, baby," the guy eggs her on. "You fall short!" "Haven't you heard?" she shouts out the window at him. "I'm a mama's girl!" And she speeds up even more. "Dylan! — Penelope Douglas

Another story Momma liked to tell was about how once she and Daddy went to visit the Middletons when Momma was pregnant with me. Daddy and Mrs. Middleton were laughing at Momma, because she was a little older and was surprised that she could get pregnant. I think Momma was thirty-seven at the time. Both she and Mrs. Middleton had children around the same age, and Mrs. Middleton sort of indicated that Momma should've quit while she was ahead. Well, it turns out right after that visit, Mrs. Middleton got pregnant. "I think she got pregnant that same night," Momma would say, adding, "Don't mess with karma, Cannie Middleton." Nine months later, Mrs. Middleton also had a baby girl. — Robin Roberts

Silvia told Jarvis how she had walked in on her baby daddy having sex with their young babysitter and she had beaten him in the back with a hammer, paralyzing him. — Aleta L. Williams

Daddy is jive talking
and showering the stripper
Mommy is sleepwalking
while changing baby's diaper — Casey Renee Kiser

In December, at the darkest time of the year, Olenka delivered triplets. Mother-in-law came by and called Benedikt in to come look at the brood. She congratulated him. He lay there, empty and heavy-hearted, waiting for the signal; and there wasn't any. All right then, he'd go take a look.
There were three kids: one appeared to be female, she was tiny and cried. Another seemed to be a boy, but it was hard to tell right off. The third
well, you couldn't figure out what it was
to look at, it was a fuzzy, scary-looking ball. All round-like, but with eyes. They picked it up in their arms to rock it, and started singing: "Bye Baby Bunting, Daddy's gone a-hunting ... " and with a shove it pushed away, jumped on the floor, rolled off, and disappeared into a crack in the floor. They all rushed to catch it, their hands outstretched. They moved stools and benches
but no luck. — Tatyana Tolstaya

Will none of the powers that be realize what Brian Wilson did with the chords. Deftly taking from all sources, old rock, Four Freshman, he got in his records a beautiful hybrid sound - Let Him Run Wild, Don't Worry Baby, I Get Around, Fun, Fun, Fun - 'and she had fun, fun, fun 'till her daddy took her T-bird away.' — Lou Reed

As she watched, he examined the can intently, read the ingredients, then returned it to the shelf and chose another, repeating his thorough study of it.
The contrast between his rough, tough-guy appearance and the domestic act he was performing did funny things to her head.
She had a sudden, breathtaking vision of a dark-haired little boy sitting in the seat of the cart, laughing up at Cian, grabbing at his swinging braids with chubby little fists, while his daddy inspected the ingredients on a jar of baby food. Her mind's eye
picture of sexy, strong man with beautiful, helpless child made something soft and warm blossom behind her chest. — Karen Marie Moning

I had so looked forward to her walking." Maud carried her thirteen-month-old sister a few steps away and put her down on her feet. "Walk to Daddy," Maud said, and the baby threw out her arms and took the few steps across the space to her father's chair. — Katherine Paterson