Join Date: May 2012
Location: New Hampshire
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That's the ironic thing - I was basically a good kid. Sure, I gave my parents *some* trouble, but in the grand scheme of things, I was pretty tame.
Looking back, I mostly wish that my parents listened more. They weren't bad parents (when I say parents, I mostly mean my mother), but the trauma's that I recall seem to have been made up of what felt like injustices. As if she was under so much stress as a base line, that it was easier to just punish us than it was to try to sort out what REALLY happened. I mean, there were times when I totally broke the rules and got in trouble, but there were times when it was not so cut and dried.
Anyway, I want my kids to know how to work and play hard, and I want them to stand up for themselves, and I hope that they will be honest with me. I hope that I will always have the patience and trust to listen to them, at least to hear them out.
Having two little girls, part of me hopes that they will never get in a fight at all. Of course, as I write that, I am reminded of a day...
My three year old was playing in the yard at my mother's house. We were all there, celebrating my nephew's birthday. Well, one of the boys, a five year old, decided that he wanted the toy that my girl was playing with. So, he simply grabbed it and tried to pry it from her hands. Tried. By the time it all came to my attention, she and her chair had fallen over sideways on the deck, and he was still trying to pry it from her hands, but she was hanging on for all her worth. He was not only a couple of years older, but she was small for her age.
I say I don't want my girls to wind up in fights, but seeing her stand up to him and not give up made me proud, even if it was not rational.
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