Wednesday, June 10, 2009

The Meanest Mother in the World!

My Mother clipped this out of Ann Landers column years ago and gave it to us to read. As much as I hated it , I loved it.
I added my two cents ! If you want to read the origional just do a search for the title, its all over the internet.

I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast, or nothing. When others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich, or nothing. As you can guess, my supper was different than the other kids' also. My tantrums didn't work, I did not get my way.

But at least, I wasn't alone in my sufferings. My sister's and brother (brother's) 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. I did, but not enough. She had to know who our friends were and where we were going. She even checks my myspace and looks at all my friends pages, she is so nosy. She does NOT respect my privacy. If someone has bad stuff on their myspace page , she won't let me hang-out with them. How rude is that? 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 actually hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really was.
I finally got a cell phone at 15 , but she has the audacity of using it as leverage for example, if I don't move fast enough or if I talk back she actually takes it away. None of my friends mothers do that. That is nearly child abuse in my book.

We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. I have to wear shirts that don't show cleavage. How rude, you'd think it was the 60's instead of 2009. The other kids always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because she made our clothes herself,( Ive threatened it) just to save money (and to be decent). Why, oh why, did we have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends?
My mother has even shopped at resale shops or (gasp) the goodwill for some of my clothes, and she is proud of her "bargain", while I am so ashamed. She will not let me wear a bikini, instead she shops online for hours trying to find me a bathing suit that "covers" me. Can you imagine covering up all your curves, how in the world are you gonna get a boyfriend if they dont see your six pack and how fine you are! My mother says that girls wearing bikinis is like putting them on a serving plate for all to get a peek. How stupid she is.

The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine o'clock ten thirty each night and up at eight nine (see I'm not as bad as I should be) 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.
Ive had to start working on Saturdays to save for a car, can you believe they are going to make me pay for some of my car. My friends parents would NEVER dream of making their high schoolers work. Don't they know we are here to have fun and parents are to insure we have good teenage years...My friends parents are all taking out loans to buy them cars and getting them really nice new ones. I may even have to drive my mothers old one and pay her for it. That is just not right.
My parents hate me.

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. I even have to have boys come over here if they want to see me and then my mother is in and out of the room, no privacy at all what-so-ever. My mother has even compared teenagers to dogs in heat. 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 16. Fifteen, that is, if you dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year. She says that when I show maturity and responsibility, I can date. Isn't that horrible.

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. The red marks altho NOT ok, were excepted if we were trying, but proving to her I was trying was like walking through fire.

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. NONE of us including you Whitney.

My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four (eight) 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. I have to add here that my boys ( excluding my scholar MATT, and honest JESSE) have made some bad choices and have served time in jail. I love them even still and I pray that they learned from it.

She even makes me go to church, my friends all decide if they want to go. She insists I sit up straight and if I don't, she pokes me or does a reminding "T" sign if I'm not within her poking range, how embarrasing.

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.


This is in fun but I actually found it because Whitney says I'm the worst mother in the world. I'm so-so far from being the good mother I'd like to be, and I know it, but the things I do and the way I go about things is FOR HER own good. I love my daughter so much and I realize that I'm not a "cool" mother. I told her this morning I am way more concerned about her soul that her being popular.
Lord I pray she loves me , but I want to spend eternity with her and I don't have much more time with her here at home, so I'll continue in the ways that the bible tells me are right.


7 comments:

Carol said...

You got a cell phone at 15??? I didn't even know they made cell phones back in those days!!

Glenda, saved by grace said...

funny... I'm writing this as if it were Whitney talking.
Back in those days I was outside turning the antenna to get local TV programing, o but you know that, you taught me how to turn it.

Washer Mom Val said...

I admire your resolve with Whitney and will learn from your journey. I liked your prior post too with the decency dressing article. Yes, she loves you.

Ryan Ashley Scott said...

Sometimes we all feel like the worst mother in the world - and we've probably all felt like our own mothers were SO mean. I figure if my kid doesn't like me by the time he's a teenager, I'm doing my job. Even if I hate it when he doesn't like me. Love your additions. :)

Mamaw 2 6 said...

Good Post!!! Don't you know that if you're a good mother your children won't like you while they're young. They aren't supposed to!! It's not cool to like your mother if she's doing her job raising her children to be respectable, respectful, moral, dependable, independent young people with good judgment. They won't be this unless you teach them this. Remember, you are not raising children to be children, you're raising children to become adults. Then when they become adults and possibly parents they will know how to act and raise their children.

All this said, Whitney does love you with all her heart and deep down she knows you do what you do because you love her with all your heart. Children need and want boundaries they just can't tell you that. She's just doing what her flesh thinks it needs to. It's cool to let your friends think you tell your mother off.

I Love You both very much,

Dee said...

I am so glad your mom was a mean mom and that you are now a mean mom your self. I am also a mean mom. :) Dee

bringing up boys said...

why is it the meaner the mom, the more likely it is that she is right? If only I could be so mean! thank you for your comments on why I hate my mother. I love your site. Wisdom of the aged, and all that stuff. I am muddling through this teenager stuff with only my mothers wisdom keeping me alive.