Admonishing, Bullying, Compelling
Today is Mother's Day. My mom graduated from this life over 20 years ago. Do I miss her? Stupid question to ask. She was a mean mom-in all of her love, caring and sacrifice.
Is it right or wrong to admonish, bully, or compel your children to do one thing or another? Or to not do something they really ought not to do? I don't know. Another stupid question.
For example. Janele was only 2 and was climbing up onto the half-wall of the porch. On the porch side it was only a 3' drop. On the lawn side it was a 6' drop. I told her three times to get down. Wanting to let her have her agency I did not compel her to get down. The result? The most stupid and avoidable mistake of my young motherhood. She fell, on the wrong side and broke her little arm. Stupidity. Mine for not 'compelling' her to get down. I could have easily picked her up, taken her inside and got her interested in making lunch, playing with toys, etc. But me? I did the stupid thing and let her choose for herself.
Another incident. A son at age 13 said to me one Sunday morning, "I don't want to go to Church." What did I do? I said, I understand how you feel AND I feel that way too lots of times for the following reasons (insert list of your reasons here). I then explained I had made a baptismal covenant with Heavenly Father and part of that was to support my leaders and that meant to attend Church-whether I felt like it or not. What happened next? He went to Church and never brought the subject up again. Was I bullying him or admonishing him? Maybe he felt compelled. I'm not sure this is a compliment or not but he digitally dedicated a song to me, 'The Bible and the Belt", by Bucky Covington.
I don't know which it could be considered, but I do know this. Janele broke her arm and/or wrist at least two more times (once as an adult-therefore not on my watch-whew!) and my son is still active in Church-to this day.
All of this leads up to one thing. I am the Meanest Mom! Here's a poem to prove it:
"The Meanest Mother"
Is it right or wrong to admonish, bully, or compel your children to do one thing or another? Or to not do something they really ought not to do? I don't know. Another stupid question.
For example. Janele was only 2 and was climbing up onto the half-wall of the porch. On the porch side it was only a 3' drop. On the lawn side it was a 6' drop. I told her three times to get down. Wanting to let her have her agency I did not compel her to get down. The result? The most stupid and avoidable mistake of my young motherhood. She fell, on the wrong side and broke her little arm. Stupidity. Mine for not 'compelling' her to get down. I could have easily picked her up, taken her inside and got her interested in making lunch, playing with toys, etc. But me? I did the stupid thing and let her choose for herself.
Another incident. A son at age 13 said to me one Sunday morning, "I don't want to go to Church." What did I do? I said, I understand how you feel AND I feel that way too lots of times for the following reasons (insert list of your reasons here). I then explained I had made a baptismal covenant with Heavenly Father and part of that was to support my leaders and that meant to attend Church-whether I felt like it or not. What happened next? He went to Church and never brought the subject up again. Was I bullying him or admonishing him? Maybe he felt compelled. I'm not sure this is a compliment or not but he digitally dedicated a song to me, 'The Bible and the Belt", by Bucky Covington.
I don't know which it could be considered, but I do know this. Janele broke her arm and/or wrist at least two more times (once as an adult-therefore not on my watch-whew!) and my son is still active in Church-to this day.
All of this leads up to one thing. I am the Meanest Mom! Here's a poem to prove it:
"The Meanest Mother"
by Bobbie Pingaro
I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate
candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others
had Cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can
guess, my supper was different than the other kids' also.
But at least, I wasn't alone in my sufferings. My sister and two
brothers had the same mean mother as I did.
My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You'd
think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and
where we were going. She insisted if we said we'd be gone an hour, that
we be gone one hour or less--not one hour and one minute. I am nearly
ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each
time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was
used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy's pants. Can you
imagine someone actualy hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now
you can begin to see how mean she really was.
We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always
wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because
she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we
have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends?
I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate
candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others
had Cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can
guess, my supper was different than the other kids' also.
But at least, I wasn't alone in my sufferings. My sister and two
brothers had the same mean mother as I did.
My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You'd
think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and
where we were going. She insisted if we said we'd be gone an hour, that
we be gone one hour or less--not one hour and one minute. I am nearly
ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each
time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was
used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy's pants. Can you
imagine someone actualy hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now
you can begin to see how mean she really was.
We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always
wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because
she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we
have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends?
The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night
and up at eight the next morning. We couldn't sleep till noon like our
friends. So while they slept-my mother actually had the nerve to break
the child-labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make
beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she laid
awake at night thinking up mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and
nothing but the truth, even if it killed us- and it nearly did.
and up at eight the next morning. We couldn't sleep till noon like our
friends. So while they slept-my mother actually had the nerve to break
the child-labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make
beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she laid
awake at night thinking up mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and
nothing but the truth, even if it killed us- and it nearly did.
By the time we were teen-agers, she was much wiser, and our life
became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for
us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates
and friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a
girlfriend, can you imagine she checked on me to see if I were really
there. I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That is if I'd had a
boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention, while my friends were
dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old fashioned mother refused
to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is, if you
dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year.
Through the years, things didn't improve a bit. We could not lie
in bed, "sick" like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends
had a toe ache, a hang nail or serious ailment, they could stay home
from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends'
report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for
failing. My mother being as different as she was, would settle for
nothing less than ugly black marks.
As the years rolled by, first one and then the other of us was put
to shame. We were graduated from high school. With our mother behind
us, talking, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the
pleasure of being a drop-out.
My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four
children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us
have ever been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my
brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom do we
have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You're right, our
mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a
protest parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a
million and one other things that our friends did.
became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for
us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates
and friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a
girlfriend, can you imagine she checked on me to see if I were really
there. I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That is if I'd had a
boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention, while my friends were
dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old fashioned mother refused
to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is, if you
dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year.
Through the years, things didn't improve a bit. We could not lie
in bed, "sick" like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends
had a toe ache, a hang nail or serious ailment, they could stay home
from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends'
report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for
failing. My mother being as different as she was, would settle for
nothing less than ugly black marks.
As the years rolled by, first one and then the other of us was put
to shame. We were graduated from high school. With our mother behind
us, talking, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the
pleasure of being a drop-out.
My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four
children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us
have ever been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my
brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom do we
have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You're right, our
mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a
protest parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a
million and one other things that our friends did.
She forced us to grow up into God-fearing, educated, honest adults.
Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my three
children. I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my
children call me mean.
Because, you see, I thank God, He gave me the meanest mother in
the whole world.
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