Creative Title

A glimpse into the brain of a writer-momma-nerd.

Looking Backwards

Posted by nattya61 on October 9, 2009

10 points to anyone who knows where I stole that title?

The older I get the more thankful I am for my upbringing. My parents were not perfect, but they were the most amazing parents I could ever have had. I grew up with basically one rule, don’t do something stupid. My parents trusted me from a very young age, birth essentially, to make my own decisions and to make smart ones and I think that gave me a better sense of myself and a trust in myself that not everyone has.

I remember once when I was at Dad’s house (during one of those times he moved out…that’s another story), I was talking to the two little neighbor girls through the wall we shared with them at the duplex. Dad didn’t care. I wasn’t bothering anything. These little girls weren’t so lucky. Their step-dad told them to quit talking to me. I don’t know why. I don’t know if he was annoyed they were talking through the wall, or if they had homework to do or what, but I remember Dad coming by and telling me that I may want to stop or they might get in trouble. Well, I didn’t, and what I heard next was them getting spanked, loudly, and crying. I felt so bad. I remember thanking Dad right then and there, as an eight-year-old, that he wasn’t like that.

As long as I wasn’t hurting anyone or breaking the law my parents pretty much let me do what I wanted. They let me watch what I wanted on television, the let me dress how I wanted, they let me express myself how I wanted. There were no “off limits” words in our house unless they were directed towards each other. That was a no no. My parents instilled in me a sense of respect enough for me to know what was appropriate and what was not. I would never have worn a mini skirt to school not because I would have gotten in trouble but because, even if I would have had the body for it, I wouldn’t have wanted to go to school looking like a tramp. I did my homework because I wanted to get good grades, not because my parents would have punished me if I would have made less than an A.

My parents always just said that I was a “good kid” so they didn’t really have to work at raising me. I picked out my own potty chair and stood around waiting for Dad to put it together. Right when he was finished I used it and was instantly potty “trained.” Even so, I think for any intelligent kid this method should work. Teach respect, not fear. Those are two very different concepts, but a lot of people don’t seem to understand that. Bryan was raised differently than I was, but I’m glad that he agrees with my philosophy. We want our home to be a place where Nicholas can feel comfortable, not a place where he feels stifled. I couldn’t imagine raising him any other way.
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