【精选】我的妈妈英语作文3篇
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我的妈妈英语作文 篇1
My mother is a senior high school English teacher. Under standably, she wanted her daughter to pick up English early to give her an edge to later study, which I did not understand at the age of eight. I was so obsessed with fun and games that I hated to stay peacefully with all those strange phonetic symbols and odd words. I wondered what pleasure Mother seemed to have found in teaching me A,B, C. Wasn't teaching at school tire some enough for her? I went on strike, refusing to spell a single word no matter how tender or severe Mother tried to be with me. For the first time in my life, Mother beat me, imprinting on my mind.
The physical pain was gone long, long ago. But I have finally come to understand how it pained my mother to beat me for my obstinacy and disobedience, and I ache at her pain.
我的妈妈英语作文 篇2
My mother is 36 this year,but she looks young. She has two big eyes, a smally noose snd a smally mouth. Her hair is long and brown. She is a beauiful woman.
My mother is a nurse. She works in a People Hospital. She often wears a white uniform. No wonder people call nurses “white angle”. She works carefully and she is friendly to her patints. They all like her. She is busy. Every day, she works for eight hour in a day time. Sometimes, she is on duty in the evening. After work in the afternoon she goes back home. She makes a big dinner for father and me. It is a delicious meal, decause she is goodat cooking.
I love my mother, I think she is the best mother in the world
我母亲今年36岁,但她看起来很年轻。 她有两只大眼睛,小小的一个小嘴巴。 她的头发长而褐。 她是一个美丽的女人。
我的母亲是一名护士。 她在人民医院工作。 她经常穿着白色制服。 难怪人们称护士为“白色角度”。 她小心翼翼地工作,对她的病情很友善。 他们都喜欢她。 她很忙。 她每天工作八小时。 有时候,她在晚上值班。 下午工作后,她回家。 她为我和父亲做了一顿丰盛的'晚餐。 这是一顿美味的餐点,因为她很棒烹饪。
我爱我的母亲,我认为她是世界上最好的母亲
我的妈妈英语作文 篇3
1、I have bought food that I hope will please my mother, and that will be easy for her to eat: orzo salad with little pieces of crayfish cut into it, potato salad, small chunks of marinated tomatoes.
2、l have brought her a bouquet of crimson, yellow, and salmon-pink snapdragons. She likes the flowers very much.
3、 As I wipe my mother's face, I see that her skin is still beautiful I hold her chin in my hand and kiss her forehead.
My mother has no idea that her ninetieth birthday is coming up. She has no notion of the time of day, the day of the week. the season of the year, the year of the century. No notion of the approaching millennium. And no idea any longer, who I am. Her forgetting of me happened just a few months ago, after I had been traveling for more than a month and hadn't been to see her. When I came back, she asked me if I were her niece, l said no, I was her daughter. "Does that mean I had you?" she asked. 1 said yes. "Where was I when l had you?" she asked me. I told her she was in a hospital in Far Rockaway. New York. "So much has happened to me in my life." she said "You can't expect me to remember everything."
My mother was once a beautiful woman, but all her teeth are gone now. Toothless. No woman can be considered beautiful. Whenever I visit her in the nursing home, she is sitting at the table in the common dining room, her head in her hands, rocking. Medication has eased her anxiety, but nothing moves her from her stupor except occasional moments of fear, too deep for medication. This is a room that has no windows, that lets in no light, in which an overlarge TV is constantly blaring, sending images that no one looks at where the floors are beige tiles, the walls cream colored at the bottom, papered halfway up with a pattern of nearly invisible grayish leaves. Many of the residents sit staring, slack-jawed, open mouthed. I find it impossible to imagine what they might be looking at.
When I walk into the dining room on the day of my mother's birthday, I see that she has already been served lunch. The staff has forgotten to hold it back. Though I told them a week ago that I would be providing lunch. She hasn’t touched anything on her tray except a piece of carrot cake, which she holds in her hands. The icing is smeared on her hands and face. I don't want my friends to see her smeared with icing, so I wet a paper towel and wipe her. This fills me with a terrible tenderness, recalling, as it does. a gesture I have performed for my children. As I wipe my mother's face, I see that her skin is still beautiful I hold her chin in my hand and kiss her forehead. I tell her it's her birthday, that she's ninety years old. "How did that happen?" she asks. "I can't understand how that could happen."
l have brought her a bouquet of crimson, yellow, and salmon-pink snapdragons. She likes the flowers very much. She likes the name. "Snapdragons. It seems like an animal that's going to bite inc. But it's not an animal, it's a plant. That's a funny thing,"
I have bought food that I hope will please my mother, and that will be easy for her to eat: orzo salad with little pieces of crayfish cut into it, potato salad, small chunks of marinated tomatoes. I have bought paper plates with a rust-colored background, upon which are painted yellow and gold flowers and blue leaves.
My friends Nola and Gary come for my mother's birthday. When we are about to leave, I tell my mother that I'm going on vacation, mat I won't see her for three weeks, that 1 am going to the sea. "How will I stand that, how will I stand that's she says, but I know that a minute after I’m gone she'll forget I was there.
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