Single~Parents; Anna's Family... (Can of worms)

 

Good Morning... 

As promised, here is that proverbial can of worms...

I am hoping that you have an opinion for (and OF) me when you finish reading this all.

In advance I need to apologize for being in such a foul mood. (But to counter that, I only need to think of my children and grandchildren; and the "family" that I have)...

Yes, this is wordy, but where my children have the propensity of being hurt, there are never enough words...

There is such a negative connotation that "parent~alone" cannot possibly raise decent, God~Loving, respectful, and responsible children...
(Falling back on the love I received from my own parents, I would still move heaven and earth to dispel that notion).

This is my family....

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(Right from my living room wall)!

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Some of you have asked plenty of questions of myself; others have not.
(Know that a few who don't bother to ask have been terribly wrong within their assumptions).

Please know that I would rather answer a question honestly, than to have anyone 'think' they might 'know' me; forego their questions, and be wrong enough to cause pain.

Now, (you know who you are)... Written in response to your ignorant rantings within my friends comments...

Forgive me ma'am, for knowing that you have only lashed out because of the ignorance of your own assumptions.
I shall try to correct that for you.
Strangely it occurs to me that I am also "assuming"... But where you could not have been further from the truth, I am thinking what I have to say might be a bit more accurate.

Oddly enough, I have my own questions too.

I have been fighting the inane and assinine attitudes toward single parenting since my eldest was 3 years old, and my then husband decided to leave for Germany with his betrothed to escape his child support responsibilities. I only state this to give you a bit of background; surely now it would fail to be important for any other reason.

Me now... more backgound...

I am, PROUDLY, a single mother.
My children have given me that pride; for I would not have it if not for their own love.

Both of my parents are deceased.

Having been adopted young, both of my "birthparents" are still alive and kicking; though not together.
(Hey, they were, er, 'together' for the most important day of my life; and that is all that matters). hehehe

I am thinking that there are plenty of single mothers out there who will care to share with me... their own experiences, their own thoughts and perhaps their own questions and answers.

Or perhaps you know a single parent family...

Or maybe you have a bit of both compassion and comprehension to offer.

I believe it was G.K. Chesterton that said one of the worst things you can do is misunderstand what someone has written. (along those lines anyway).

I hope you do not misread this; or not understand it as I mean it to be written.

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And now the 'inspiration' for my post here...

*I tried to stick up for a friend of mine who needs her sleep. That backfired when another person had responded, not knowing the 1st thing about me, and completely misunderstanding what I had said.
I had simply explained that when people are sick, to send everyone to bed with a Ziploc bag to put under their pillows so nobody has to be cleaning up vomit in the middle of the night. (Yes, I have done this nasty task more times than I care to remember, and have even tossed bedsheets because I had no more energy to deal with it all)...
I did not have to be there to watch my children barf...
Really I didn't; not after they had reached a certain age anyway.

This does NOT make me a bad mother. (Crap, did I forget to mention that my bedroom was attached directly to the bathroom)?

And yes, I have "been there," repeatedly, for my grown children as they have been taken seriously ill.

This blog began because my friends daughter (17 years old), had woken up in the middle of the night with a 24 hr. flu~bug of sorts.
Not having a land line in her bedroom, this gal had used her cell phone to call her mother, (asleep with her husband in the other bedroom), to tell her she was going to be sick.
I ('assumed' the family was well~off enough to have indoor plumbing.
That established, I further) stated I would lay good money betting on the fact that if this girl had time to make the phone call, and then wait for the connection, then wait even longer for her mother to answer, and then through a conversation, (no matter how short), that she had MORE than enough time to get her backside to the toilet. (It was just a guess).

Instead, she woke her mother, asking her bring a wastebasket to her room. (It just seemed a little selfish, silly and disrespectful to me).
I was told that the hubby would probably agree with me 100%, but that my friend did not.

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I have to share a few 'Q & A' of my own...

How hard is it to be a single mother?
(This is usually the greatest question of all)..

• It is neither hard nor easy.

You do what you have to do; your family lives through it with plenty of prayer, humor, hormones and life.
Because I have known no other way to raise children, I would have nothing to compare it to. -With the exception of how I was raised by two parents.

I tried to incorporate what my parents taught me. ie: how I was raised.
My parents, the while they lived, helped me all they could; and so did my wonderful babysitter "Little Lisa" who practically lived with me to help me out at times.

My parents were born in 1912 and 1916...
To say I was raised "old school" would be very accurate.

Was I ever beaten/abused by my parents?
Absolutely not.
Hindsight (and maturity) have brought a bit of wisdom; I did deserve every punishment I ever got from them. Whether I was backhanded, spanked, cussed out, grounded, slapped or kicked in the butt, I received only what was coming to me.
(More, to this day, I have YET to hear better sermons)!

And so I was, and remain, motivated to keep trying to be a decent human being.

We were completely cherished and loved, but we were NOT ever molly~coddled.

When we fell down, we were told simply to "get up".
Picking ourselves up, no matter how bloody our knees or elbows or faces were, taught us to stand on our own two feet.

When were were sick, we either saw a doctor for an RX, or we got better on our own.
Honestly, I cannot recall even once expecting my mother or father to watch me throw up. (Nor did they ever offer to)!hehehe

My children got spanked when they were little. (Some a few times more than others).

Yet they have grown into self~sufficient, and capable adults.

Does that mean that they do not "need" me now?
Absolutely not. (I would like to think that sharing my own experiences with them on an adult level would account for much).

I believe that my parents taught me a deep and abiding respect for them. And yes, maybe I didn't always respect them as I should have; but you can bet your bottom dollar that I knew the consequences of my actions.
(And I firmly believe to this day this is the only place where the elements of "respect" and "responsibility" are learned).

Much like science, every action has an equal and opposite reaction.
This applies to parenting as well.

"Good" parenting anyway. (And no, I did not "beat" my children).  Truth be told, 99.99% of the time, a simple "LOOK" from me worked just fine. hehehe

I have been known to make a mountain out of a molehill.
That is just the way I am...
(Perhaps this is one of those times, but my heart tells me otherwise).

Having had my daughters each go on their 1st dates/proms/dinners, I could imagine every possible scenario of any bad/good situation.
I raised them to KNOW how to deal with those same scenarios too.

Was I tough? I was.
I had to be; simply because I was the Mom and the Dad too.
They never heard 'just wait til your father gets home' because after the divorce, he chose not to be involved in their lives.
I never had the luxury of passing the buck on to someone else. (I would not have done so anyway).

I was their confidante, and I was their "heavy" too.
I never backed down from a challenge, whether that challenge came from my children or their friends, or the neighbors kids, or the neighbors themselves. 

We had one telephone line, and one toilet. They learned patience, practicality and perseverance early on. (Hopefully, they still "knock" too).

We are a team.
We are 'family.'

They all 'worked' too.

• They knew how to vacuum, and to sort and DO laundry.
• They knew how to start the weedwacker and the lawnmowers.
• They knew how to shovel snow (and sometimes even had fun doing it).
• They were responsible enough to care for the dog and the cat.
• They knew what were weeds and what was a keeper in our gardens.
• When they were younger, they were each given an alarm clock for the Christmas or birthday before they went to kindergarten.
• They all knew how to read by the time they got to kindergarten, and yes, they all knew how to use their alarm clocks to make the very best use of their time in the bathroom.
• They each ate a hot breakfast before they got on the bus.
• They all knew how to cook that same breakfast by the time they were 7 or 8. (My oldest knew how to cook that breakfast before she was old enough to even go to school).

Did they know how to take care of themselves?
You bet they did; (and they still DO)!

As they grew, I always had my old medical reference books nearby, and any questions were then discussed, if/when they had any.
From a very young age, they ALL read these books many times over. A little knowledge goes a long way.

As a single parent, I was always aware of how short life can be cut for some; and it was with that fear, that I raised my kids. (Losing my step~daughter has only reinforced what I already knew about life being short, and leaving small children behind).

What would have happened to my children had I died?
Would they have been intelligent enough, kind enough, capable enough, and smart enough to carry on? I wanted to make sure that they were. (Know please, I am not "dissing" those of you with a spouse; I am only relating MY life).

As a single parent with no other parent around, these are the questions that I needed to know the answers to should that have ever happened...

So was I strict?
Probably more~so than most other parents; single or otherwise.

With respect to my childrens hard work, successes, kindnesses and intelligence, we have raised each other "right" ...(Thank you kids)!

Having been both mother and father; yes, I still cherish every single one of those Fathers Day cards that I have received over the years too!  hehehe

• Have I made mistakes?  Of course I have!

I am only human.
But as we grow, we realize that the mistakes we make are our own learning experiences as well.

• Have my children screwed up? Of course they have!
  Do I love them any less for that? Of course not! (And yes, a note to the faithful, I know my own progeny hold no animosity toward my own screw~ups either).

In closing. I would like to point out that I received these words from an uninvolved 3rd party in response to how I handled my own barfy children...
(And I quote):

"I’m a Mom and I believe Mom’s are there to care for (your) kids.

That is the problem with the world today…

I think some just shove off the kids letting them be little adults.

Care for themselves… nope.
So then we have a bunch of detached non-caring, no emotions types walking around."

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I cannot begin to tell you what an UGLY statement that is to me, and how very deeply it has affected me these past couple of days. *** Should my four daughters read these words, they will be hurt; and highly offended as well...

I just don't think that "detached" or "non~caring" and "no emotion" are adjectives that could possibly be used to describe my children...

I am wondering what everyone else thinks; and would welcome your input on this all.

Could this woman/mother possibly be right in her thinking about how to care for children?

I know I am not the very best mother around.
I know that there are many that are much better. (Sadly we all know of worse ones too). But I didn't think I was all that bad.

• There is a proper time for pampering, and a proper time for allowing the child to care for themselves.

Without learning to care for themselves, what a rude awakening we would leave our children with as they go off to college, to live elsewhere etc etc etc ...
What will they fall back on if their parents die?

Yes. I am their mother/father.
I love each of my children "something awful"
(But no, I am still not gonna watch them puke). Methinks there are much greater, and more important, ways to be needed anyway.

But that's just me.

Please let me know what YOU think just so I can put this one away.

Have a great weekend. (I am going to try to go back to bed for a while)...

XOXO
Anne

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PS
* If there are young men around, please know that your mother is not doing you any favors by coddling you if you have already reached puberty.
I also know for a fact that there are at least 4 young ladies in this world that will have nothing to do with a Little Mama's Boy who cannot even make his own bed, clean his own laundry, or cook his own sensible dinner.

• At best, that is an archaic way of thinking.
• At worst? Hmm... (nope, NOT going there)...

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Some of you may remember reading this at an earlier date.
It is a repost, but having read a comment elsewhere that gave NO respect to the work that a single parent is responsible for, I thought to repost it.
As you can see by the counter, almost 1400 people have read it already.
Sorry too that my most precious comments TO this blog did not transfer from my 360

XOXO
Me

Betrayal and Babies. A "No Yahoo" Blog!

Back to the Blog!!!
MINE!

...I promise not to even THINK about all the garbage going on in our little 360~World this morning. (Like my danged fat~foot~pain, I have grown WAY too tired of it all anyway)...

Good Morning Everyone, (well, to those of you who are still here)...

Off on a wild tangent here. Was exploring a bit, and also found a few more pictures of my own here. had to fight with my HP Scanner to get them all in, and edited too. Alls well that ends well though...

Oh, and you'd probably want to grab a cup of coffee, it's a long-ish blog...

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I am going to write today of betrayal, guile and deceit. And a few of my own experiences thereof...

de·ceive
VERB:
de·ceived , de·ceiv·ing , de·ceives

To cause to believe what is not true; mislead. Archaic To catch by guile; ensnare.

V: intr.
To practice deceit. To give a false impression.

One of Angies recent blogs dealt with her own problems with a friendship she had come to cherish. Click her name for her story.

I have recently learned of deceit by a once~close family member who has forgotten that one of the commandments is "Thou shalt not steal".
I am deciding whether to press charges against this person.
(It is none of my offspring).

...Life. Yeah, it's kinda like that...

Having a conversation with Richard the other day, he had brought up something that I hadn't thought about in years. And that Casey had never known about. Was she shocked or surprised? Not. But the fact that I was surprised when he had even recalled it has given me moments to think on it awhile.

Scenario: Married. Separated. Back together. Separated. Divorced.
All in a 4 and a half year time span.
Less than 1/10th of my entire life, it still bears importance to me; (maybe just because at the time it was 20% of my whole life).

At one point we had moved our married life and two small babies to Holland, Michigan; and then a few months later, to Zeeland Michigan.
It was at that point in Michigan that our marriage was over for me.
No car of my own, I carried the kids, to secure a UHaul... And then packed that truck while "he" was at work. I packed up an entire house, two little babies, and was bound and determined to drive that truck home to Flintville that night.
BUT... (lady luck)...
He came home early that day; and I made the mistake of saying that I was leaving, and that he was "welcome to join me."
(Hindsight being what it is, he wasn't; but he did).

When we got back here, we stayed here at Mom and Dads for a while; just until we could find a place of our own... In the meantime, one of my friends had come over, and had asked me to join her softball team.

But of course I would join!!! I was thrilled to have something, other than tending babies, to do.
Hmmm... Nope, that does NOT make me a bad mother to say that; rather it keeps me honest. (Those babies were born not even 14 months apart).

Another close friend, Cindy VerVaeren (sp), and I spent lots of time together too. She was my confidante. She was my rock. She had an apartment on the west side of town, (the place we had found was on the east side).
We shared our trials with respect to life. She was to be married to a classmate of ours, and asked me to be matron of honor. YAY!
(And once more to reiterate that I was SO happy to be back HOME)!

I played softball... fast pitch, slow pitch, and every other kind. (And I was damn good at it too)! hehehe My "wonderful" husband actually was thrown out of the ballpark at Bay Beach for cursing each and every decision the umps made. Banned from all my games too. I was embarassed that he was there acting like that, and further embarassed at that decision too.

It was during that time that I had met Richard.

Having taken a season off because I was pregnant with Roberta, I still had many friends from my teams. One of the teams I played for was The Surf Club. A quaint, but rather large old "mom~and~pop" type club; owned by Johnnie Johnson and his wife.
One month after Roberta was born I filed for divorce. After going to the shelter, I then moved with my three babies to my parents home; until the idiot was court~ordered to vacate our apartment.
Weeks/months (whatever) later, I was joining some friends at The Surf Club. While they drank or played darts, or shot pool, I was playing at the pinball machine. The door to the club was directly behind me by about 3 feet, if that...

I remember that I had an excellent game going, and had been given TONS of extra games already. My points just kept adding up... (I was sure getting my quarters worth)! hehehe
All of a sudden, to find myself down on the floor, and thrown into the wall at my side.
Hurt.
And there were many people yelling.
Scared, but to turn a bit, and open my eyes after the impact with the wall, I saw my (still then) husband standing there and cursing.
He was over 6' tall, and "Little Mark" as we called him, was 'telling him off'. Mark was maybe all of 5'7" tall. I remember Johnny Johnson yelling too, and telling my idiot husband to "get out and stay out"...
(No one could have stopped it, or barely even seen him come in. It all happened so fast).

Rick had recalled this event the other day... We had been talking about how things had changed during the course of ones lifetime.
He was there that night, and had seen it happen too; but shooting at one of the pool tables at the other end of the place, he had not gotten there fast enough either. (The idiot had already been forcibly removed from the club).

I called Cindy to come and get me. There was no way I was going back to Mom and Dads and have to share this with them. (At that point still, I was still too embarassed to tell them about everything)... And I spent that night at Cindys, along with many more, (in "hiding" if you will, in her security~locked building).
Like I said, she was my rock...

She got married, and I was her matron of honor. Not too very long after that, she came to my townhouse and declared that divorce was wrong. She told me if I went through with the divorce that all of my kids would be stupid juvenile deliquents and wind up in jail. (Things to that nature)... And she told me that a divorced woman alone was useless etc etc etc. And that she didn't care to be friends with me.

I couldn't believe the contempt that came from her. Only a few weeks before having watched her be married, having signed her marriage license.

Asking her to repeat it all, and doubly asking her if this is what she truly believed, I told her, in no uncertain terms, to leave my house, and my life. She did.

I was shattered completely; for I had always honored my friends too. And for the first time in my life, (save for the brutal marriage I'd had), I knew what betrayal felt like. It burnt all the way through... And it cut deep.

Fast forward a few years to our 10 year class reunion. Her husband had come to me asking to 'bury the hatchet'. (Over my dead body).
She'd simply pulled up anchor and had left me.
I didn't want any part of that. Not again. "Fool me once" was enough.
I do remember at that reunion having a glass of lambusco in my hand, and I also remember toying with the idea of tossing it at her cream colored dress. But I didn't. (I think I regret that to this day). Oh well.

The things that have changed during our lifetimes here. Rick is older than I by 10 years. He grew up to do his tours with the Marine Corp in Vietnam. He said when he was a kid that the husbands that beat their wives were scorned a bit, but everyone had a tendency to look the other way. Then came the stick up for a few wives mentality... And then the wives began to stick up for themselves too.

Yet, with respect to domestic violence, the role the police had was only to separate the husbands and the wives; if only to tell them to go cool off for an hour or so!

I swear that with respect to what I went through, my own ex might still be in jail if the laws we have now could somehow be made retroactive.

Now if only we could make our children understand.

Have a great Tuesday.

Love to all.

XOXO
Anne

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Free Counters

Mother Alone/Woman Alone...

Good Morning Everyone!

Yes, my hand is still the size of a small pineapple... And yes, I went and bought some benedryl; taking it for the first time in my life. (And going "nightie~night" very shortly thereafter too)!

Now if any of you know what I am trying to say here, or how maybe to say it better; PLEASE leave me a comment. This blog really does NOT only pertain to mothers; but to anyone else that might have seemingly not been given a wee bit of credit for WHO they really are... inside...

Very recently one of my children said to me that she believes me NOT to be the person I portray myself to be within my pages here... And that has gotten me to thinking.

I have "thought" myself only to one obvious, and simple, conclusion.

She is wrong as "wrong" can be.

She is a woman in every sense of the word. Bright. Capable. Strong. (Just as I raised her to be). Entering her 4th decade of life as it is.

And yet, she has only given me credit for being a mother. Perhaps it is only because she is my child? And I am thinking that there are too MANY children in this world that, unfortunately have only/will only see their mother as a mother.

I assure you this is not the case.

Our mothers, and YOURS, were women first. Born daughters of someone else who gave birth to them. When your mother was young, she never believed that her mama ever would "do" such a thing to create new life. And if she did, it was once, (and only once), to bring forth life. Mmmm~Hmmmm

"When I was a child I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child..."

And yet, your own mother grew to know all the love, the glory, the resounding successes (and the heartbreaking failures) that came to her even before you did. She knew freedom. She knew life. She loved all animals. (She hates spiders).

She had/has many many friends that have shared almost every experience she has ever known.

Then came her children.

"...When I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways" (1 Cor. 13:11).

Since I recently have entered my own fourth decade of being a mother, I can assure you that once that heartstring has been pulled that nothing else will ever be that important to me. And so with that very first delivery, I put aside most of those dreams I may have had. I did this freely and without any coercion, (save for those tiny fingers that clasped my own).

And those tiny fingers quickly grew to a woman.

You have accused me now of being less than honest.

As I have said you are quite wrong.

You have known me only to be a mother. (More specifically YOUR mother).

There was a different 'life' before you came along.

And there is a different life now that you have gone on...

This is the 'woman' I always was, and always will be. I promise you that my friends, and even my elders, will all attest to this; almost as well as my own heart can. For they knew me then, and they know me now.

These are the people that have given me the strengths, (or even the escapes) that I needed many times.

The people who knew, (and know, and respect, and love), the woman inside my skin. The people for whom the song was written, whether they were friend, lover, employer, or employee.

And yes, they have seen me 'become' my own mother in so very many ways; as you yourself will "become" one day.

I am always to be your mother. Good. Bad. And yes, every degree conceivable inbetween.

I have never lied to you. And I have not chosen this moment in time to begin to do so.

I am the same person, the same spirit, with the very same soul, that I always was.

I am determined.

I am strong. With credit due my own many experiences in life, and my own understanding of human nature, that simply makes me stronger than you. But just because I am stronger does not mean that I want to be so, it is simply the way it is.

And this is not only to be applied with respect to my lifetime, or my mothers; it is for all time.

Mother? Yes.

Invincible? Hardly.

Woman? Always.

"Yeah, it's kinda like that"

XOXO
Anne

for more on Anna's Family, click here...

*****of course if you were already on my friends list when I wrote that blog, you might NOT want to revisit it. .... hehehe

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She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes.
And she can ruin your faith with her casual lies.
And she only reveals what she wants you to see.
She hides like a child, but she's always a woman to me.

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She can lead you to love, she can take you or leave you.
She can ask for the truth but she'll never believe you.
And she'll take what you'll give her as long as it's free.
Yeah, she steals like a thief, but she's always a woman to me.

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Oooh, she takes care of herself.
She can wait if she wants, she's ahead of her time.
Oooooh, and she never gives out, and she never gives in,
she just changes her mind.

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And she'll promise you more than the Garden of Eden.
And she'll carelesly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding.
But she'll bring out the best and the worst you can be.
Blame it all on yourself, cause she's always a woman to me.

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Oooh, she takes care of herself.
She can wait if she wants, she's ahead of her time.
Oooooh, and she never gives out, and she never gives in,
she just changes her mind.

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She is frequently kind and she's suddenly cruel.
But she can do as she pleases, she's nobody's fool.
And she can't be convicted, she's earned her degree.
And the most she will do is throw shadows at you,
but she's always a woman to me.

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Billy Joel

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Single~Parents; Anna's Family...

This entire blog is reposted here:
http://flintville.multiply.com/journal/item/821
Please click should you like to comment, or to read what others have said.

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Good Morning... (Yes, it is still snowing)...

As promised, here is that proverbial can of worms...

I am hoping that you have an opinion for (and OF) me when you finish reading this all.

In advance I need to apologize for being in such a foul mood. (But to counter that, I only need to think of my children and grandchildren; and the "family" that I have)...

Yes, this is wordy, but where my children have the propensity of being hurt, there are never enough words...

This is my family...

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(Right from my living room wall)!

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Some of you have asked plenty of questions of myself; others have not. (Sadly a few who didn't bother to 'ask' have been terribly wrong within their assumptions)...

Please know that I would rather answer a question honestly, than to have anyone 'think' they might 'know' me; forego their questions, and be wrong enough to cause pain.

Now, (you know who you are)... Forgive me ma'am, for knowing that you have only lashed out because of the ignorance of your own assumptions. I shall try to correct that for you. Strangely it occurs to me that I am also "assuming"... But where you could not have been further from the truth, I am thinking what I have to say might be a bit more accurate.

Oddly enough, I have my own questions too.

I have been fighting the inane and assinine attitudes toward single parenting since my eldest was 3 years old, and my then husband decided to leave for Germany with his betrothed to escape his child support responsibilities. I only state this to give you a bit of background; surely now it would fail to be important for any other reason.

Me now... more backgound...

I am, PROUDLY, a single mother. My children have given me that pride; for I would not have it if not for their constant and abiding love.

Both of my parents are deceased. Having been adopted young, both of my birthparents ARE still alive and kicking; though not together. (Hey, they were 'together' for the most important day of my life; and that is all that matters).

I am thinking that there are plenty of single mothers out there who will care to share with me... their own experiences, their own thoughts and perhaps their own questions and answers.

Or perhaps you know a single parent family...

Or maybe you have a bit of both compassion and comprehension to offer.

I believe it was G.K. Chesterton that said the worst thing you can do is misunderstand what someone has written. (along those lines anyway)... Therefore, I hope you do not misread this; or not understand it as I mean it to be written.

And now the 'inspiration' for my post here...

I tried to stick up for a friend of mine who needs her sleep. That backfired when another person had responded, not knowing the 1st thing about me, and completely misunderstanding what I had said. I had simply explained that when people are sick, to send everyone to bed with a ziploc bag to put under their pillows so nobody has to be cleaning up vomit in the middle of the night. (Yes, I have done this nasty task more times than I care to remember, and have even tossed bedsheets because I had no more energy to deal with it all)... I did not have to be there to watch my children barf... Really I didn't; not after they had reached a certain age anyway. This does NOT make me a bad mother. (Crap, did I forget to mention that my bedroom was attached directly to the bathroom)???

And yes, I have "been there," repeatedly, for my grown children as they have been taken seriously ill.

This blog began because my friends daughter (17 years old), had woken up in the middle of the night with a 24 hr. flu~bug of sorts. She had used her cell phone to call her mother, (asleep with her husband in the other bedroom), to tell her she was going to be sick. I ('assumed' the family was well~off enough to have indoor plumbing. That established, I further) stated I would lay good money betting on the fact that if this girl had time to make the phone call, and then wait for the connection, then wait even longer for her mother to answer, and then through a conversation, (no matter how short), that she had MORE than enough time to get her backside to the toilet. (It was just a guess). Instead she woke her mother, asking her bring a wastebasket to her room. (It just seemed a little selfish, silly and disrespectful to me). I was told that the hubby would probably agree with me 100%, but that my friend did not.

But like I said though I have a few 'Q & A' of my own...

How hard is it to be a single mother? (This is usually the greatest question of all)..

It is neither hard nor easy. You do what you have to do; your family lives through it with plenty of prayer, humor, hormones and life. Because I have known no other way to raise children, I would have nothing to compare it to. With the exception of how I was raised by two parents. I tried to incorporate what both of my parents taught me then. ie: how I was raised. My parents while they lived helped me all they could; and so did my wonderful babysitter "Little Lisa" who practically lived with me to help me out at times.

My parents were born in 1912 and 1916... To say I was raised "old school" would be very accurate.

Was I ever beaten/abused by my parents? Absolutely not. Hindsight (and maturity) bringing a bit of wisdom, I did deserve every punishment I ever got from them. Whether I was backhanded, spanked, cussed out, grounded, slapped or kicked in the butt, I received only what was coming to me. (And to this day, I have YET to hear better sermons).

And so I was, and remain, motivated to keep trying to be a decent human being.

We were completely cherished and loved, but we were NOT ever molly~coddled.

When we fell down, we were told simply to "get up". Picking ourselves up, no matter how bloody our knees or elbows were taught us to stand on our own two feet.

When were were sick, we either saw a doctor for an RX, or we got better on our own. Honestly, I cannot recall even once expecting my mother or father to watch me throw up. (Nor did they ever offer to)!

My children got spanked when they were little. (Some a few times more than others).

Yet they have ALL grown into wonderful, self~sufficient, capable adults.

Does that mean that they do not "need" me now? Absolutely not. (I would like to think that sharing my own experiences with them on an adult level would account for much).

I believe that my parents taught me a deep and abiding respect for them. And yes, maybe I didn't always respect them as I should have; but you can bet your bottom dollar that I knew the consequences of my actions. (I believe this is where the elements of "respect" and "responsibility" are learned).

Much like science, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. This applies to parenting as well. Good parenting anyway. (And no, I did not "beat" my children). Truth be told, 99.99% of the time, a simple "LOOK" from me worked just fine. hehehe

I have been known to make a mountain out of a molehill. That is just the way I am... (Perhaps this is one of those times, but my heart tells me otherwise).

Having had my daughters each go on their 1st dates/proms/dinners, I could imagine every possible scenario of any bad/good situation. I raised them to KNOW how to deal with those same scenarios too.

Was I tough? I was. I had to be; simply because I was the Mom and the Dad too. They never heard 'just wait til your father gets home' because after the divorce, he chose not to be involved in their lives. I never had the luxury of passing the buck on to someone else. (I would not have done so anyway).

I was their confidante, and I was their "heavy" too. I never backed down from a challenge, whether that challenge came from my children or their friends, or the neighbors kids, or the neighbors themselves. (But that's a whole 'nother blog)! hehehe

We had one telephone line, and one toilet. They learned patience, practicality and perseverance early on.

We are a team.

We are 'family.'

They all 'worked' too.

They knew how to vacuum, and to sort and DO laundry. They knew how to start the weedwacker and the lawnmowers. They knew how to shovel snow (and sometimes even had fun doing it). They were responsible enough to care for the dog and the cat. They knew what were weeds and what was a keeper in our gardens.

When they were younger, they were each given an alarm clock for the Christmas or birthday before they went to kindergarten.

They all knew how to read by the time they got to kindergarten, and yes, they all knew how to use their alarm clocks to make the very best use of their time in the bathroom, and each eating a hot breakfast before they got on the bus.

They all knew how to cook that same breakfast by the time they were 7 or 8. (My oldest knew how to cook that breakfast before she was old enough to even go to school).

Did they know how to take care of themselves? You bet they did; (and they still DO)!

As they grew, I always had my old medical reference books nearby, and any questions were then discussed, if/when they had any. From a very young age, they ALL read these books many times over. A little knowledge goes a long way.

As a single parent, I was always aware of how short life can be cut for some; and it was with that fear, if you will, that I raised my kids. (Losing my step~daughter last September has only reinforced what I already knew about life being short, and leaving small children behind).

What would have happened to my children had I died? Would they have been intelligent enough, kind enough, capable enough, and smart enough to carry on? I wanted to make sure that they were. (Know please, I am not "dissing" those of you with a spouse; I am only relating MY life). As a single parent with no other parent around, these are the questions that I needed to know the answers to should that have ever happened...

So was I hard on them? Probably more~so than most other parents; single or otherwise.

There is such a negative connotation that "parent~alone" cannot possibly raise decent, God~Loving, respectful, and responsible children... (Falling back on the love I received from my own parents, I would still move heaven and earth to dispel that notion).

With respect to my childrens hard work, successes, kindnesses and intelligence, we have since raised each other "right" ...(Thank you kids)!

Having been both mother and father; yes, I still cherish every single one of those Fathers Day cards that I have received over the years too! hehehe

Have I made mistakes? Of course I have. I am only human. But as we grow, we realize that the mistakes we make are our own learning experiences as well.

Have my children screwed up? Of course they have!

Do I love them any less for that? Of course not! (And yes, a note to the faithful, I know my own progeny hold no animosity toward my own screw~ups either).

In closing... (as you are wondering WHERE this is all going)... I would like to say that I received these words from an uninvolved 3rd party in response to how I handled my own barfy children... And I quote:

"I’m a Mom and I believe Mom’s are there to care for (your) kids.

That is the problem with the world today…

I think some just shove off the kids letting them be little adults.

Care for themselves… nope. So then we have a bunch of detached non-caring, no emotions types walking around."

~~~~~~~~~

I cannot begin to tell you what an UGLY statement that is to me, and how very deeply it has affected me these past couple of days. Should my four children read these words, they will be hurt; and highly offended as well...

I just don't think that "detached" or "non~caring" and "no emotion" are adjectives that could possibly be used to describe MY children...

I am just wondering what everyone else thinks; and would welcome your input on this all.

Could this woman/mother possibly be right in her thinking about how to care for children?

I know I am not the very best mother around. I know that there are many that are much better (and sadly we all know of worse ones too). But I didn't think I was all that bad.

There is a time for pampering, and a time for allowing the child to care for themselves. What a rude awakening we would leave our children with as they go off to college, to live elsewhere etc etc etc ... What will they fall back on if their parents die?

Yes. I am their mother/father. I love each of my children "something awful" (But no, I am still not gonna watch them puke). Methinks there are much greater, and more important, ways to be needed anyway.

But that's just me.

Please let me know what YOU think just so I can put this one away.

Have a great weekend. (I am going to try to go back to bed for a while)...

XOXO
Anne

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PS

* If there are young men around, please know that your mother is not doing you any favors by coddling you if you have already reached puberty. And I know for a fact that there are at least 4 young ladies in this world that will have nothing to do with a Little Mama's Boy who cannot even make his own bed, clean his own laundry, or cook his own sensible dinner. At best, that is an archaic way of thinking. At worst? Hmmmm... (nope, NOT going there)...