Parenting the good ol' fashioned way

I have to say that I read this and realized there was a LOT of truth in it. I hate to snatch posts from the Common Room so often, but this is one that MUST be passed along. What do you think?

More for My Children

A friend of Granny Tea's grew up in Mexico where she washed the family laundry in a stream using rocks. She grew up, came to America, made the American Dream, getting a good job in the Space Industry, making good money, bought an amazing house in a wealthy neighborhood and good schools. She didn't want her her kids to suffer like she had.
They never wore used clothes. They never lacked for a single thing. They had no chores, not even making their own beds. They were, consequently, lazy, unappreciative, and took the good life for granted. She came to work in tears sometimes because they were so rude. She would acknowledge that somewhere, somehow, she'd given them too much and it hadn't been good for them, but she couldn't bear to give them less, either.

Thank you, DHM!
I want 'more' for my kids, too, sometimes. And sometimes, that 'more' is selfish. I want things to be different for them so that I don't feel bad about them feeling bad. Mostly, as my Progeny will attest, I squelch that impulse, and they 'suffer' anyway. In a good way. Like this:

These Things I Wish For You
-- By Lee Pitts


We tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse.

For my grandchildren, I'd like better. I'd really like for them to know about hand me down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover meat loaf sandwiches. I really would.

I hope you learn humility by being humiliated, and that you learn honesty by being cheated. I hope you learn to make your own bed and mow the lawn and wash the car. And I really hope nobody gives you a brand new car when you are sixteen. It will be good if at least one time you can see puppies born and your old dog put to sleep.

I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in. I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother. And it's all right if you have to draw a line down the middle of the room, but when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he's scared, I hope you let him. When you want to see a movie and your little brother wants to tag along, I hope you'll let him.

I hope you have to walk uphill to school with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely. On rainy days, when you have to catch a ride, I hope you don't ask your driver to drop you two blocks away so you won't be seen riding with someone as uncool as your Mom.

If you want a slingshot, I hope your Dad teaches you how to make one instead of buying one. I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books. When you learn to use computers, I hope you also learn to add and subtract in your head.

I hope you get teased by your friends when you have your first crush on a girl, and when you talk back to your mother that you learn what ivory soap tastes like.

May you skin your knee climbing a mountain, burn your hand on a stove and stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole. I don't care if you try a beer once, but I hope you don't like it. And if a friend offers you dope or a joint, I hope you realize he is not your friend.

I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch with your Grandpa and go fishing with your Uncle. May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the holidays. I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through your neighbor's window and that she hugs you and kisses you at Christmas time when you give her a plaster mold of your hand.

These things I wish for you - tough times and disappointment, hard work and happiness. To me, it's the only way to appreciate life.

Isn't it sad that so many times, in trying to 'save' our children we curse them?