I had her. . . .
While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others had coke 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 at all times. 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. We always had an 11:00 curfew. Not 1:00 or 2:00 like everyone else. Now can you begin to see how mean she really was?
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 at all times. 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. We always had an 11:00 curfew. Not 1:00 or 2:00 like everyone else. Now can you begin to see how mean she really was?
We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. 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 off the phone and in bed by nine each school night and up early for seminary the next morning. On the weekends, 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 teenagers, 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. Let me not 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 16.
My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to smoke and drink, wear 2-piece bathing suits or tank tops, nor go to wild parties where the parents were out of town, and a million and one other things 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 [six] 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. -adapted from an essay originally written by Bobbie Pingaro
"The real source of a mother's unparalleled influence [is]the power of her love. The significant influence of mothers is not realized in perfectly orchestrated enrichment activities for children, but in a million small acts of care and responsiveness. When all is said and done, it really is through the hundreds of diaper changes, baths, nose wipes, late night conversations, car rides, meals, and questions about feelings and friends that her love becomes a powerful source of influence."
-Jenet Jacob Erickson Source
So go ahead - be a mean mother!