My mom had three kids and was pregnant with the fourth when she became a widow, so by necessity she made sure we could function independently. Once the babysitter fell through when she had to get to a job interview, so she took us down to the corner and put us on a bus and told the driver “two round trips for all of them.” My older brother was 6, the youngest was 2.
When I was fourteen, my best buddy and I asked our parents if we could go to Europe the following summer “if we pay our own way.” My buddy’s parents and my mom both rolled their eyes and said “oh, sure, that’ll be the day.” I can’t remember how my buddy did it, but I got a job at a local hardware store ($1.65 an hour). She could have said no, but off we went, bought bicycles in London, rode around the Netherlands, Germany and ended up in Paris for a month.
To send me out to stay with my brother and his wife and kids for much of the summer for a few years. They lived in a tiny unincorporated town of about a dozen or so residents who mostly lived in trailers. My brother had an actual house, but no running water and an outhouse. I loved it there, but it also showed me what poverty looked like. I ran and biked and hung out with kids who didn’t have much, picked berries, fished and did target practice with a .22 rifle. I’m pretty sure my parents gave my brother a stipend for having to feed me. Every so often I went with my brother to fill up jerry cans with water from a local creek.
The other thing my mother did after my birth father deserted us was to task my sister with my care during the day while she worked two jobs to keep a roof over us. My sister taught me how to read before I ever started school and I’ve had a love of reading ever since.
When I was about nine or ten my grandmother got me bunch of VC Andrews books. For those not in the know, they are smutty incest rapey soap opera books.
I honestly probably wouldn’t have been allowed to read them but I don’t think my Mom knew any better. I actually loved them as writing practice. I used to take vignettes and rewrite them in my own words, fixing the parts I didn’t like.
I think they were wholly my introduction to the romance genre. There was a bunch of other drama so it wasn’t straight romance but the element was heavy enough that I could look at it, turn it over in my head, and figure out what I wanted to keep.
Now I’m a romance writer and I’m still trying to fix the parts I don’t like.
Now that I think about it, the thought of VC Andrews being influential on my work is frankly horrifying. They are really very terrible books.
QFFT, man. The rule in our house was absolute; TV was barely tolerated but commercials, not at all. To this day I’m amazed when I witness someone just placidly listening to a blaring ad. Some key brain-defense is utterly down, the tower guards fast asleep.
My mom (I’ve told this story before here) was a big reader, a lot of murder mysteries and ever-so-slightly racy stuff. One day she’d left out a funny-sounding book called The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, which I assumed was one of her adult mysteries. I was five. I asked her about it, and she said nonchalantely, “oh, you can read that one if you like, but it’s probably too old for you.” So devious. It worked.
Both of my parents instilled in my brother and I a very, very strong work ethic. And a do it your self attitude.
Tools, tools and tools. Use 'em. Hell, the house we bought was brand new when we moved. I was 9 years old. The interior needed to be painted.
My grandfather created a 240 lot mobile home park. I mowed all the empty lots. I was a busy, busy child. I’ll never forget the day I started to get paid. $1 an hour. A gold mine for a kid in 1970.
I was saving for a Browning BL .22 rifle. My dad knew this. Just when I had about enough money, I found it lying on my bed. The money, that I saved was mine to keep.
The rifle, that’s still in excellent condition is worth ~ $800. Speaking of which, another good lesson was “take care of your stuff”
So many girls walking around school with those books. If I’d only known at the time, because I found out many years later, that at home many of them were reading Frank Herbert and J. R. R. Tolkien, maybe I would’ve had something to talk to them about.
To the thread topic, two decisions:
If you ask me, getting me to the point of completing my education with a Ph.D. and not having any debt. Including credit card or other consumer debt. Being able to go right from graduation into a mortgage really was a huge head start.
If you ask my parents, it was buying a Franklin Ace 1000 (Apple+ clone) around 1982. Both my brother and I get paid to make computers do things, and having one around the house certainly increased our appetites for playing with computers, but if they hadn’t bought one, I’d have found another way to play with computers. I’d also probably have whined incessantly about not having one.
A lot of kids at school got taken to Disneyland, crossing the pacific to do so (At the time, it seemed like every kid except me). My parents without fail would go camping in some obscure part of the North Island every year. Still haven’t been to Disney and don’t have the slightest desire to, but I know my own country like the back of my hand. One day I’ll get to Greytown, Herbertville and Castlepoint, but I’ve been pretty much everywhere else.
Hard to say specifically. While not perfect obviously, I feel like I had a really good upbringing and try to apply those lessons to my own kids.
Both held stable, professional jobs.
Education was highly important
They were very social
Kept good relationships with our extended family
Supportive of my and my brother’s various pursuits and activities
Lots of trips and vacations
I mean I think my wife and I do a pretty good job, but my parents kind of made it seem almost effortlessness. Well, maybe my dad more than my mom. My mom spent a lot of time on her studies and career, so clearly put in a lot of effort.
After thinking about it, I’m come to the conclusion that, at least as it affected my life, the best decision they made was to buy a house shortly before my fifth birthday. I was the oldest child, and it meant that I was able to start elementary school at the local Catholic school. It was also in a good neighborhood in far northwest Chicago, and I grew up making a lot of friends, both at school and in the neighborhood.